Hades and Persephone Ch. 01

My apologies to Greco-Roman scholars, first of all. This is a story of Persephone and Hades. In this story, they do not meet until modern times because Demeter took Persephone away from Olympus shortly after her daughter was born. To avoid incest issues, Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades are brothers and sons of Cronus and Rhea. Hera, Hestia, and Demeter are sisters and daughters of Helios. That way, Persephone and Hades are not related. If you are looking for an incest story, this is not it. I did take some liberties with their mythos to allow for things to work in the narrative. Yes, there will be BDSM elements in future chapters; for the purpose of this chapter, I left it in the BDSM category because of a scene that appears shortly.

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

Several miles above the Earth and above the heavens, on a luxurious silver silk draped bed-albeit now quite rumpled, lay one of the most famous couples of all time. Their skin bronzed in the firelight, they both gave the appearance of a couple long together and aged appropriately.

To outsiders, the man appeared to be fit, fiftyish, with a neatly trimmed beard of mostly gray with a few flecks of pepper to keep things interesting. His wife of millennia reared back over him, a smile of triumph on her burgundy-slicked lips. Her breasts that had nursed two sons and one of her husband's by-blows held the admitted manwhore king of the gods transfixed.

With a smirk, she curled her burgundy-tipped fingers, nearly the same hue as Dionysus's most prized wine, beneath her breasts, plumping them, offering them to her husband as she felt his engorged cock harden beneath her dripping cunt. Moaning, she plucked her nipples, strumming them as her husband, the voyeur, observed, his attention rapt.

"So, you see," Hera, queen of the gods, murmured, "all I want is to meet my niece, our niece. It is time that she and Demeter return so that Persephone can meet and marry a god, so that they can again take their place on Olympus." Sliding higher to her knees and removing her hand from her breast, which now bobbed and swayed for his perusal, she curled that same hand tight around his cock as her husband enjoyed most.

"Besides," she offered, "shouldn't everyone be as happy in matrimonial bliss as we are?" With each word, she slid back until the "are" was breathed millimeters away from his throbbing, veiny dick. Her hazel eyes taunted him for long seconds before her lips parted, her tongue sweeping out to taste the salty sweetness of his cock's head.

With a shiver, Zeus nodded, sliding his fingers through her ebony waves, to pull her mouth down over his cock, where her throat began to deepthroat his dick.

Slurps and gagging noises heard usually in porn filled the room. The sensual visual feast Hera's blowjob presented Zeus almost made him lose control. As much as he loved the variety of other women and, frankly, the chase, his wife's vibrancy and inventiveness in the bedroom always made him return home to be satisfied anew.

Her bare breasts cradled his balls, cushioning them as her tongue and lips and yes, even her grazing teeth, expertly guided him to orgasm.

Sure, he was going to grant her request. Why wouldn't he? If Hera was distracted by preparing her niece for marriage and then for re-joining the Pantheon, Zeus could then go sample other mouths, other pussies, other asses-possibly even enjoy a romp or two with his sister-in-law Demeter again.

Thoughts of the more free-spirited sister merged with his wife's mouth doing just that-oh, she remembered to lick him just there-and he spurted copious streams of salty cum on her tongue, coating her taste buds that she swallowed as if it was the sweetest nectar.

********

Back on Earth, in his mansion, their son Hephaestus tested out his most recent creation on his erstwhile wife. Long used to Aphrodite's encounters with others: man, woman, mortal, immortal, Hephaestus turned a blind eye to what he considered inevitable.

A god married to the literal goddess of love, sex, and beauty had to expect such things, the rational blacksmith figured. After that messy encounter where he punished his wife and his brother Ares for fucking behind his back, he learned a few things.

First, he had sadistic tendencies. The sight of his wife in the bondage the net provided, of her being immobile, at his mercy, stirred up cravings and desires he had never known he had. Second, he could not control who and when she fucked. He might as well not even try. Third, he saw the telltale wetness that revealed Aphrodite's arousal from her predicament, a result of being in her husband's thrall (and not from Hades's cock).

Hephaestus had long thought himself asexual as his uncle Hades was thought to be. To know that he could become aroused by punishing his wife, by keeping her restrained while he used her, tortured her even, made his dark heart warm slightly and his cock go rigid. Before this, his releases into her amounted to more of a perfunctory fuck to keep the juices flowing and himself from being distracted away from his work, than a true sensual experience.

To know that he could give his wife something no one else could (because her other sexual partners were too enraptured by her beauty to take control), kept him in a state of constant arousal whenever she visited him.

Just now, he had thin, wrought gold coils encircling the tender skin of his wife's slender wrists and ankles. Reaching for the stiff quill pen feather that drove his wife particularly wild with lust, he observed the tableau she presented.

Sheets of a soft seafoam green, rather reminiscent of the Botticelli painting, framed her lush form on the bed. Softly sensuous reddish-gold hair that spilled over the pillow, with eye-stopping curves-both tits and ass-that moved enticingly as she squirmed to test the bonds that held her securely at his mercy, her mutinous blue eyes glared up at him while her lips held none of their usual, sexual smirk. Key among his accomplishments when he punished her was his ability to send her straight to disgruntled befuddlement and then to extreme pleasure.

"So tell me, Wife," his gravelly voice made excitement skitter down her nerves, "why am I punishing you today?"

Aphrodite struggled to gain the upper hand although bound spread-eagle to the bed pretty much rendered that impossible. "I fucked Ares right here in this bed."

"Did you orgasm?"

She smirked. "Yes."

Probing fingers, roughened deliciously from his work at the forge, spread the tender, drenched folds of her pussy. One lingering caress to her clit that made her gasp with pleasure was replaced instantly with the maddening stroking of the feather's tip on that most sensitive spot. Her tender thigh muscles contracted as she involuntarily strove to close her legs to the torment.

"How many times?" Hephaestus's hairy chest transfixed Aphrodite; between that and his torment of her clit, she could barely think to squeak out an answer. The muscles built from centuries of working metal made her cunt gush with molten need, every time. Especially when she was bound and could not touch them.

Striving to refocus his attention on her breasts, breasts that no one, man or woman, could ignore, she wiggled her shoulders slightly. Hephaestus's gaze merely remained locked with hers, calmly waiting for her answer. "Once," she intoned quietly.

"Only once? Why?"

She stared at him mutely. He kept slowly stroking her clit with that evil feather. Because of that, she could not think, could not form a response other than the truth. "Because he wouldn't tie me up and fuck me."

Fingers scarred from demonically hot fires ripped open his pants to reveal an erection that made Ares's seem puny in size. Her cunt watered still more in anticipation of its girthy length.

Rough growling whispers chided her, "I should make a chastity belt to keep you here, to drive you wild with need and want, the cold metal against your dripping hot gash, keeping you ready and wanton with need for me. Cum, slut," he ordered, almost indifferently. Her pussy convulsed around his cock as it plundered her depths. Mewling cries that she never loosed for anyone except he cheered his thrusts on.

His hands grasped the overflowing handsful of her breasts and squeezed hard enough to bruise, watching her eyes grow bright with a masochist's wild desire. The pads of his fingers rasped over budded nipples, sparkling with the nipple rings that he had created for her. Incoherent whimpers leading to a crescendo escaped her throat. As his cock began to paint her womb with his orgasm, he slid his new devious device into her ass-a vibrating pewter butt plug to keep her aroused until they met again.

******** Coals in the fireplace, long forgotten to be stoked, glowed sullenly, barely illuminating the black-clad form slouching in the monstrously huge chair.

Hades was immune to the cold. He was immune to most things: humor, happiness, pleas of the tormented, disease, cold, and death. Lust, however much his friends and family thought, he was not immune to.

The king of the Underworld sipped a bit of the bitter red wine that Dionysus had supplied. At his feet, Cerberus slept, each head lightly snoring.

Suddenly, Cerb sat up at attention, all three heads growling at something behind Hades. Only one entity ever entered his private sanctum and library.

"What is it, Hermes?" As usual, Hades preferred his solitude to the intrusion of the gods, particularly his brothers.

The messenger with his winged sandals flashed his easy grin, the one that spoke volumes to Hades about his intent. "Zeus and Hera have a request."

"What kind of request?" Hades, with the world-weary tiredness of centuries, rubbed his face with its blackening jawline. No matter how he shaved-or attempted to grow his beard-he was stuck with a five o'clock shadow. Eyes and a face that revealed him to be only in his early forties at the oldest stared coldly up at Hermes's laughing blue gaze.

"They need you to convince Demeter to return with Persephone. It is long past time for Persephone to find a partner and marry. And Demeter needs to return to her rightful place on Olympus," the messenger relayed.

Hades's rough, humorless laugh escaped thinned lips. "Let me see if I understand correctly. My brother and his wife want me to convince Demeter who hates their guts to return with her daughter to their den of iniquity? Shouldn't you be doing that?"

"Not me. I might have tried to get Persephone drunk with some of Dionysus's best red. And I might have tried to seduce her. Aphrodite suggested it! It's all her fault!" Hermes explained when Hades slid an askance glance at him.

The stare that could bore through to the souls of the damned barely fazed Hermes. Cerberus, however... "Ugh, get your hellhound away from me!" Cerberus's heads snuffled at the god, licking their lips in mouths that watered for a bite of the immortal.

"Why me, again?" Hermes was pleased that Hades had not dismissed the idea of the request out of hand. If anything, he appeared a bit...intrigued. Impossible!

"Because you are the only one of the children of Cronus who does not instantly antagonize Demeter. Probably because you are the only one she has not slept with."

Hades appeared to consider that. "And, if I am unsuccessful, I can return here? Because I don't hold out much hope. I was there the day Demeter said a big fuck you to Olympus and left with Persephone at her breast."

Toying with one of his curls, Hermes remembered as well. "Well, to be fair, Hera and Zeus claimed that Zeus had to be Persephone's dad. Poseidon insisted he was the father. And Demeter kept insisting that Persephone's father was one of a group of fauns she fucked at a party one night."

"Yeah, yeah. And Apollo kept trying to talk, but they all simply yelled over him. To be fair, Demeter had been chafing at even the loose rules of Olympus for at least a century before that. She simply seized the opportunity they provided her," Hades further explained.

The king of the dead shook his head; not even that jerking movement could disarray the close cropped dark hair perfectly kempt to his head. Everything about Hades screamed rules and order and responsibility. Perhaps that is why, of Helios's three daughters, Demeter was the one he related to the least. Hestia and Hera understood responsibility; Demeter with her chaotic whimsy rarely did so.

Maybe it was time for her to return to Olympus. While he had never seen the girl, as he thought of Demeter's daughter Persephone, he had heard of Demeter's continued free love and whimsy and wondered what wild harridan the harvest goddess had raised.

He nodded, causing Hermes to feel relieved. Yes, he owed it to this child to ensure she could have a more stable upbringing that overwatch from the Pantheon would allow. In his mind, Persephone was still a babe at her mother's breast, not a goddess full-grown requiring a mate.

"Fine, I'll go," he acquiesced on a grumble. "I'll stay with your brother Hephaestus and bring Cerb with me."

Hermes glanced down at the demon hound who still wanted to eat him. "Are you sure about that, Uncle?"

"Cerb goes or I don't go. Don't worry; I know mortals would be petrified of a huge hound with three heads. He will wear his public best."

With an uneasy glance at Cerberus, Hermes backed away to return to Olympus to share the news with Zeus and Hera.

********

The sedate black Mercedes Benz sedan purred behind the slate gray Hummer and candy apple red Camaro in the circular drive. From behind the darkest possible sunglasses, Hades watched his niece-in-law slam the front door of Hephaestus's manse and stomp down the steps. In a smooth motion, he exited the car and hailed Aphrodite. "Hephaestus home?" he asked blandly.

The glare did little to mar the beauty of Aphrodite's features. "Yes. He's here." She appeared to be very put out, and then Hades heard the reason why. A gentle buzzing seemed to center-oddly enough-from her ass.

Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, tugged self-consciously at the body-hugging red slip dress that matched the shiny hue of her car. Muttering under her breath, she opened her car door and slid in, wincing, he was sure from the pressure the seat applied to the plug humming in her ass.

Chuckling to himself for his nephew's ingeniousness and the squealing of tires revealing Aphrodite's discomfort, he whistled, causing a smaller, calmer Cerberus with only one head to exit the luxury sedan. "Good boy," he muttered to him, patting his flank.

He quickly climbed the stairs and lifted and dropped the heavy door knocker three times. For all of his nephew's interest in technology and science fiction, in some ways, he was as much a traditionalist as Hades himself.

Without so much as a whisper of a creak, the door slowly swung open. Hephaestus blinked, almost mole-like, unaccustomed to the bright sunshine as he spied Hades. "Uncle!" he called, his mind still clearly on the work at his forge. "Did you come for the manacles that you commissioned?"

Hades removed his sunglasses, folding them before tucking them in the collar of his black tee shirt. Like most of his peers, he hated mortal clothing. Give him his robes anyday. But, when on Earth, one behaved as mortals do. Always fastidious, he smoothed down the zipper on the black leather jacket that surrounded the wash-softened tee shirt.

"No, nephew. You said I could stay here while I tried to convince Demeter to return to Olympus with Persephone. Remember?"

His nephew nodded absentmindedly. Whenever he was working on one of his projects, which was most of the time, Hephaestus had been known to forget about...everything else. It probably did not help his and Aphrodite's contentious relationship. Speaking of Aphrodite, "I saw your wife leave a few minutes ago."

Hephaestus nodded. "Yes, she probably was upset. I gave her such a lovely gift, but she did not appear to appreciate it."

"Uh huh." Sometimes he wondered if his nephew had the same proclivities he did. He knew (from Hermes gossiping about Zeus's exploits) that his brother's sensual appetites, though, hungry, tended to the vanilla rather than the spicy.

Hephaestus looked down at the growling mastiff. "And you brought Cerberus." While Hephaestus disliked the dog just as much as Hermes did, his work-absorbed mind would not mind the mastiff's visit.

Shaking his head to clear some of his mental cobwebs, Hades's nephew appeared to remember something. "You said you were here to make Demeter go back to Olympus? She won't like that. She loves it down here. And Persephone, while she knows from where she comes, has no memories of our home."

"You see them often, then?" Hades was shocked that Hephaestus was in such close contact with the goddesses.

His nephew cracked a rare grin. "Of course. We all have booths at Athena's bazaar and farmers' market, the Owl's Roost. Just a few miles up the road."

"All?" Hades rubbed his temples. He could feel a stress headache coming on, and he had a bad feeling that the mission Zeus had requested he complete had just become much more complicated.

"Well, yes. Didn't Hermes tell you? Dionysus has a wine stall; he even sells some of his personal vintages, well, Jessica, his CFO does. I do some custom blacksmith work. Athena, of course, has her textiles. Demeter sells organic produce and her preserved goodies. Persephone has a flower stall. Hermes pops in from time to time to create mischief. To tell you the truth, I think he wants to marry Persephone, but Demeter has put her foot down. I'm surprised he didn't tell you all of this," Hephaestus explained.

Hades groaned. "He told me that his botched seduction of Persephone was why I had to go drag Demeter back instead of him doing so. Are you telling me that I have to deal with everyone in order to convince Demeter to come back?"

His usually oblivious nephew nodded.

The god of the Underworld was well and truly fucked. And not in a good way.

********

"Of course the rose vase will be ready for you this afternoon, Mr. Seward. My mother agreed to include some of her special passion fruit jam with it for no extra charge. I remember how much your wife loves it," Persephone, called Seph by many of her friends and customers, assured one of her regular clients over the phone.

Luckily, she was hands-free, so she could wave at her best friend Jessica at Dion's stall next door while putting down her tote bag that doubled as her purse on her work desk.

Jessica mouthed, "Mr. Seward?" to which Seph nodded. The CFO, of whom Seph had heard Dion's Maenads refer to as dowdy and homely but who Seph knew to be absolutely gorgeous when she dressed up, held up a bottle of wine. Even from where Seph stood, she could see that it was one of Dion's best vintages. Her "cousin" had a special soft spot for the long-married couple who spent their weekends perusing the stalls at the Owl's Roost.

Having ended the call, Seph walked over to Jessica. It was still a few minutes before Athena would open the bazaar, and she wanted to hear how her friend's date went the night before.

"So?" the blonde asked her friend?

Jessica Drivas shook her head ruefully. "He stood me up."

"What?" The normally pacific eyes blazed blue. "What do you mean?"

Her friend's gaze darted around, clearly uncomfortable. "I mean, he didn't show. Probably because I told him in the last phone conversation that I don't put out on the first date. I mean, it's Tinder; I should know better."

"Besides," she said, with a smile that didn't quite reach her hazel eyes, "it could be worse. I could have been on a date with Dion."

Persephone pursed pink lips unadorned with lipstick. While she suspected Jess had feelings for Dion, she never pressed the issue. "So, what now?"