Hercules Bound Chapter fourteen: Blowing the Winds Evan Andrews 2021
This is a fan fiction.
Given how convoluted Hercules' story has become in myth, legend, and modern drama, don't expect this to fit cleanly into any version you know. It's its own story with its own continuity. And its own style. Xena ruined me for serious Greco-Roman fantasy. I admit it.
To make things easy for me, I imagined certain people in certain roles. This chapter, unlike previous chapters, has an extended cast, though only a few are major. I imagine Herc being played by Kellan Lutz, Iolaus by WCW wrestler Evan Karagias, Ares by Xena's Kevin Smith, and Eros by Karl Urban. The Erotes are played by a selection of professional wrestlers and an mma fighter (Sheamus, Finn Balor, Pac when he was Neville, Drew McIntyre, Conor McGregor, Adam Maxted, Kip Sabian, Liam Slater, and PJ Black when he was Justin Gabriel) and Priapus by gay porn star Logan McCree. Boreas the north wind is played by straight porn star Erik Everhard, Euros the east wind by bodybuilder Stan McQauy, Notos the south wind by bodybuilder Ulisses Williams, and Zephyros the west wind by model Martin Sensmeier. This story should in no way be considered a true representation of the sexuality of either the actors or the characters.
The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If this offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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After returning from Knossos, Herc was a different man. Iolaus had no idea what precisely had happened to his buddy there, and Herc refused to speak of it. Instead the demigod just went about whatever sexually demeaning tasks Ares set him. Automatically, methodically, quietly, and chastened.
This morning found them both once more in Ares' bedroom, in his bed. Herc was restrained lying naked on his stomach, chained spread-eagled leaving his ass open to invasion. Ares didn't need to use the chains, of course, but it amused the war god to accentuate Herc's subservient status this way. Iolaus, naked and as usual chained, kneeling, to the headboard, arms stretched wide, could only stare. Eros had already been in and given both of them their morning dose of his love sap. Herc was immune thanks to Dionysos, but he didn't let on. Iolaus on the other hand was sporting a fine erection when a naked Ares strolled into the chamber.
Wasting no time, the dark god climbed onto the bed, straddled Herc's ass, and forced his rigid rod straight into the hero's asshole. "Argh!" Herc groaned as the blood-engorged organ rode over his prostate.
"Still tight after all this time and all those cocks, Brother? I'm impressed. Let's see if I can help you loosen up," Ares preened at his fuck slave, and immediately he began vigorously to plow the fertile soil of his brother's bowels.
"Ungh ungh ungh!" Herc grunted with each thrust, then seemingly broke.
"Fuck me, Ares. Fuck me!" Herc cried, "Give me that dick!"
Iolaus, who should have been appalled, instead watched -- entranced, eager and jealous. He'd had Ares' cock, and thanks to Eros' not so secret sauce he craved more. His cockhead glistened with pre-cum, and a runnel of saliva ran from his mouth as he watched Ares delivering that virtuoso fuck. As Ares got closer to seeding the hero's fuck-hole, he, with a wave, released Iolaus' right hand.
"Pump that cock, little mortal. Cum on my bitch's face!"
Together, the god and mortal worked towards completion, Ares double-time pounding heroic ass and Iolaus flogging his only slightly less heroic cock.
"Oh fuck, Brother!" Ares cried, "I'm cumming!"
As the horny god dosed Herc's hungry hole with sperm he grabbed his brother by the hair and pulled his face up so that it was even with Iolaus' slimy rod. Herc's face bore traces of involuntary ecstasy, and as the hero blew his own wad into the sheets his mouth opened to let him cry out. As soon as he had done this, though, Iolaus took advantage of the circumstances and shot his own wad. The first rope of white goo painted his buddy's cheek, but Iolaus finished his orgasm by pumping out the rest of his load into his uncle's mouth. Herc choked and swallowed what he could, but some jizz still dripped out and caught in the stubble of his beard.
Ares slapped his brother's ass and said, "Well done, Brother. You ready for more?"
Herc nodded weakly, but the orgasm had weakened the effects of Eros' love-sap and Iolaus could only stare in disbelief. After all this time did Ares really think that Herc had any choice but to submit to his brother's whims? Did he for a moment imagine that Herc wanted any of this?
"Good," Ares said, "Up! And let's get ready for a field trip."
"Field trip?" Herc thought as his chains fell away.
"Up already!" Ares said impatiently, "We haven't got all day," then he yelled out the door, "Eros, get in here!"
By the time Herc had gotten to his feet, he suddenly found himself clothed in a blood-red loincloth and red leather knee-high sandals. A golden slave collar circled his neck, and his hands were chained with gold links behind his back. Iolaus was clean as well, but he was dressed in nothing more than his everyday page's loincloth. Eros rushed into the room and came to an abrupt halt at what he saw.
"Really, Dad?" he asked Ares who was making a show of getting into his tight leather leggings, "Clothes? What does Uncle Hercules need with clothes anymore, let alone such fine ones?"
"When you want to make an impression, my son," Ares said, "You do what has to be done. My brother here needs to make a very favorable impression on some important friends, and he won't be able to do that naked and reeking of cum."
"Okay," Eros said, "Then why isn't my cousin here dolled up too?"
"Today, my son, I need to travel fast and light, and that'd be all the harder if I dragged Iolaus around with us. So, instead I'm going to leave him in your custody. After all, though you haven't said as much, you've wanted to get your hands on him for a while."
"Busted," Eros laughed.
"So take him, have fun, and make sure he gets a good workout. I think our pet mortal needs to work on his fucking endurance."
"Dad, you know, I think I may have just the thing for that," Eros said, "Let me help you get your boots on and you can drop us off on Samos on your way."
Iolaus looked wary, and Herc was concerned. Love was cruel, and Eros had demonstrated he was capable of exquisite cruelty.
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Once Ares had dressed, he gathered his band and led them out the bedroom door –into the colonnaded courtyard of a Greek palace. It almost had the air of a gymnasium. "A fucking gymnasium," Herc thought, and he was not far wrong.
Out from the shadows of the colonnade, a cadre of muscular naked men appeared and bowed, first to Eros and then to Ares. Herc appreciated their manly forms, but Iolaus, still feeling the effects of Eros' precum, was drooling from both mouths and staring in raw lust.
"Welcome back, lord Eros," the largest man, acres of milk white skin and brilliant copper red hair, said.
"Thank you, Kokkinomallis. It's good to be home. I hope you all have been keeping in practice."
"We have, lord," another said, "But it's been a little difficult of late. Ever since Uncle Priapus came to visit, we've had trouble recruiting willing playmates."
"By Great Grandmother Gaia," Eros groaned, "Where is the troublemaker, Wanax?"
"Probably jerking off in a corner somewhere," another redhead, shorter and darker but just as cocky, said.
"Priapus," Eros yelled, "Get your balls out here before I come and roast them."
Priapus' cock proceeded him, of course, followed by a pleasantly fit body.
"All present and accounted for, junior," the cocky godling said.
Herc would have started at Priapus (something that would have been natural as the godling's body was covered with indecipherable tattoos), but he was still staring at the corps of muscular men.
"Who are they?" Herc asked.
"They, Uncle, are the trainers of my gymnasium, champions of fucking," Eros said proudly, "Dad, May I present my Erotes: Wanax the prince, Kokkinomalis the ginger, Aeroporos the flyer, Gigas the giant, Thymomenos the angry one, Platys of the broad shoulders, Arouraios the rat, Pontiki the mouse, and Lykos the wolf."
Herc's eyes goggled. These men, spirits, whatever were broad in shoulder, narrow in waist, and muscled like gods. Clearly they could only be part of Eros' crew. The only thing chubby about them were the swollen erections that jutted up from their crotches. Even Priapus, who was always ready for action, glanced at them, interested, and Herc was shocked to see that the fertility god's tattoos extended all the way down his rigid shaft to the corona. But whatever they were, they couldn't be Erotes.
"Wait. What do you mean Erotes?," Herc said, "I don't have much truck with priests, but when they talk about the Erotes I always got the impression they were talking about fat flying babies. And the artists agree."
"Fat babies!" said Lykos as he pulled at his thick erect cock, "I've got your fat baby right here, hero boy, and he can hardly wait to..."
"Back off, Lykos," Eros interrupted, "Uncle Hercules is not on the menu."
The disappointment was obvious all around.
"True," Ares said, gesturing at Iolaus, "Erotes, where I go now I cannot take this mortal. So I needs must leave him in the tender care of "responsible" parties like you and my son. I charge you all; look after this man. Keep him safe, and make sure he's where I can find him later if I want him. Do you understand me?"
The only answer was a group leer, the massaging of rapidly swelling dicks, and a ragged Greek chorus of "Fuck yeah!" They were so intent on Iolaus' hard young body that only Wanax remembered to add "Lord Ares."
"Then take him," Ares laughed, and with that the war god pushed Iolaus into the midst of the fuck spirits.
Herc winced as the Erotes bundled around Iolaus. A moment later the young hero's loincloth flew through the air. Iolaus was now absolutely at their mercy. Leaving Iolaus to the mercies of these personifications of male lust would not have been possible before the man-boy had become the sometime sex plaything of two spiteful gods, but their sperm, not to mention Herc's, had hardened him, making it now possible for him to survive the rough treatment that marked couplings with immortals.
An "Aw!" sounded from the mass of men, and Herc knew that sound well. It was the sound Iolaus always made when a shaft slid into his ass, but the cry was suddenly muffled, and the sounds of an all-man orgy ensued.
"See they don't break him, Son," Ares said as he took hold of Herc's shoulder again.
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When Herc looked around, he and Ares were no longer in Eros' gymnasium of lust but in the middle of a round colonnade centered on a circular altar. From the thinness of the air, Herc surmised they must be on a high mountain, but this didn't look like Olympus to him. He shot Ares a questioning glance.
"Welcome, Brother, to the Place of the Winds at the crest of Mount Taygetus."
"The Winds? Really, Winds as in the Anemoi Winds?"
"Watch and learn, hero boy," Ares said.
Ares stepped to the altar and held his hands high.
"You, whose wintery blasts tear the bosom of the deep surrounding air, hear me! You, whose cold icy power takes the misty station of the air and brings snow and ice, Boreas, north wind, you I summon to this place!"
Herc felt a cold wind rise, and he shivered. He hoped Ares realized what power he was fucking with.
"You, sea-born, aethereal, blowing from the West, hear me! You, who gives to wearied labor vernal rest, Zephyros, west wind, you I summon to this place!"
The cold blast met warm wet air, and dark clouds rose high into the air. Herc just stared at Ares. Everyone knew the winds didn't get along, summoning two of them to a single place was folly. But of course, Ares was only getting started.
"You, of the wide coursing gales, hear me! You, whose lightly leaping feet with rapid wings the air's wet bosom beat, Notos, south wind, you I summon to this place!"
Hot air joined into the free-for-all, and the clouds began to twirl.
"Fuck fuck fuck," thought Herc, "Is Ares trying to get us both killed?"
Apparently he was.
"You, soft breathed, who sends cool and faithful breeze over the fields at harvest's end, hear me! You, who brings garlands of golden shafts of grain and fiery tempered leaves, Euros, east wind, you I summon to this place!"
The final cool wind joined the fray which was by now nearly cyclonic. Power charged the air all around them now. Herc was sure that if he could reach out a hand he would feel the brush of the winds' aethereal wings.
"Get on the altar, bitch," Ares said, "And kneel."
With his hands still cuffed behind him, Herc struggled up onto altar and then clambered up to his knees. Knowing what was expected, he spread his legs wide to show off his bulging loincloth, and his head he bowed in submission, waiting.
Three times the size of a man, the gods of the tempests now walked out of the dark clouds and stood before Ares. Boreas was tall, wide, and powerful, and his golden hair fell to his shoulders and a beard framed his mouth. Euros and Zephyros, clean-shaven, looked not like brothers, but like close cousins. Zephyros had long black hair hanging down to his shoulders while Euros' hair was cut short and neat. Notos, the last wind, was the most striking. Bearded as Boreas was, Notos had rich dark skin, and his hair hung in matted locks down his back. Herc was captivated by the raw masculinity parading before him and especially by the pronounced bulges in their loincloths. Eros' cadre had exuded lust, but these four exuded power, wild power, and it frightened the hero even as it drew him. He desperately wanted to satisfy these gods.
"What do you want, Ares?" Boreas demanded.
"Winds, I am come because you have been sorely wronged."
The towers of masculinity seemed surprised by that.
"Go on," Zephyros prompted Ares after a moment of silence.
"You blow, and yet you are never blown in return. I am here to rectify that -- at least a little."
Notos grinned wickedly and said, "Really, Ares, you never struck me as..."
"No!," Ares backpedaled, eyes wide in surprise, "I meant to offer you the services of my brother here. Gentlemen, the mighty Hercules."
Herc felt the Winds' gaze wash over him, and he shuddered.
Boreas approached Herc first, losing height with each step as he strode towards the sacrifice and stepped up onto the altar. Now man-sized, the blond vision took his erection in his hand and stroked it. Herc gasped and watched eagerly as the shaft approached him. The delicious-looking plum of a cockhead was followed by a shaft of respectable girth that turned obscenely thick at its base. It was the most beautiful dick Herc thought he'd ever seen. Without a word, Boreas grabbed Herc's head to hold it steady. With no warning he forced his length and girth into the hero's open mouth and immediately start fucking his face. Herc gagged as the massive dick pounded the top of his throat and demanded entry. Herc could only retch until Ares released his brother's hands. Once free, Herc began to run the hands over Boreas' body, relishing the swell of his broad muscles and trying to distract him from his relentless oral assault. Eventually Herc managed to relax, and he and Boreas fell into a rhythm. Herc was even able to let Boreas fuck fully into his throat without gagging. He had never been as thankful as he was now for the oral training he'd been forced to endure. If not for that, this face-fucking would have killed him. Instead, he thought now he could go on forever. And then a firm hand pulled him off Boreas' shaft and, pushing on the back of his head, forced him down on another.
On Boreas' dick, Herc had tasted cold clean unalloyed power. On Zephyros' shaft, on the other hand, he tasted warmth and mercy after a siege. The west wind proved to fuck more gently too. Where Herc thought he could take Boreas' face-fucking forever, he now longed to do the same for the west wind's cock. Looking up the wind's sleek muscular frame, Herc was please by what he saw. This immortal, as opposed to his brother, was not built to overpower but to seduce, and the angular face that ought to have frightened Herc, instead was washed with concern. Small wonder that Herc immediately warmed to the wind and did his best to surprise and satisfy him. And then, suddenly, another cock appeared beside Zepyros'.
Eruos' body was powerful, but also sculpted, and his cock, once Herc got it into his mouth, tasted of the last fruits of the harvest. At the same time, though, he also tasted exotic, like the rich spices Herc had experienced in Minos' palace. Euros shared Herc's mouth back and forth with Zephyros for a while before taking over entirely. The east wind's fucking was precise, measured, calculated, but his technique was still beguiling. It was as though he was trying to get the maximum out of each thrust as he could.
Finally, Herc was pulled off Euros' shaft and turned to face the remaining wind, Notos, the south wind. Herc had heard of dark men from the far south, beyond Egypt and Libya, but he had never actually seen one. If Notos was an example of the men to be found there, then Herc had to journey south someday. Until then he could only gape at the wind's magnificent body until he worked up the courage to reach out for it. Notos caught Herc's hand and directed it to the long dark cock.
"Stroke my dick, Hercules," the south wind said, "Get familiar with it before it drills into your mouth."
Herc licked his lips and ran his closed hand up and down Notos' length. A pearl of liquid welled up at the piss slit, and Herc could resist no longer. He licked the dribble of lust up and proceeded to worship the south wind's cockhead.
"Yes," Notos breathed, and taking Herc's head in his two hands drew him down the length if his cock.
Herc had so relaxed by this time that he was able to take the shaft easily, and he stared up the wind's body imploring him silently to use him fully. Notos met the hero's gaze and smiled as he watched his meat slide in and out of Herc's skilled mouth.
"You blow well, mighty Hercules, " Notos said, "Who would have thought it."
The winds traded Herc's mouth back forth between them, and the hero warmed to his task. If task was the right word for it, that was. More and more, Herc had been forgetting that he had a life that ever went beyond sucking cock and taking it up the ass. He took men's loads however and whenever; it was as easy as that. He never even noticed that at no time did the winds make a move towards his ass. Apparently blowing was what the related to and what they desired, and they rewarded their prey by giving up many loads to fill his stomach. Until, that was, Herc could take no more.
Sperm drooled down onto Herc's chest after Boreas' latest orgasm, and Ares stepped forward and cried out, "Enough!"
All eyes turned to Ares, even Herc's.
"Winds, lords of the air, are you blown?" Ares demanded.
"We are well blown, god of war," Boreas laughed, "Better blown than we have been in years," and his fellows nodded their agreement, Notos reaching down to ruffle Herc's hair.
"Then I ask of you one boon."
The winds conferred in a tongue older than mankind and then turned back to face Ares.
"Ask," Boreas said, "And if it be a right and proper thing and within our power to grant then it shall be yours."
Ares asked his boon; Herc couldn't hear what he said, though. Or at least what he said made no sense. Why would Ares want a storm? It made sense to the winds, apparently, since they agreed and, so pledged, became once more a whirlwind.
Herc was blown down onto his back as the maelstrom howled through the colonnade before the winds went their separate ways and disappeared into their own quarters.
Ares now stared at his brother and smiled a smile that made Herc shudder.