This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. Some Chapters (including this one) contain graphic descriptions of sexual activity--which may not always be between consenting adults. If reading material of that nature disturbs or offends you then please click away now. Likewise, if reading something of that nature compromises either of us legally, please leave by the way you came in. You know your laws better than I so I can't make the decision for you. If you choose to keep reading I hope you enjoy this story.
A BRIEF NOTE
One of my Readers commented that Brad was doing a lot of shouting; this wasn't what I intended. The exclamation points were intended to show excitement or frustration. Likewise, words written in all caps aren't shouted. I can't do italics in a plain-text file and I don't know any other way to show emphasis. If you have suggestions I'd be happy to hear them.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Godhood 101
"Fuck me, oh God--FUCK me!" Brad arched to take even more of Dennis's long, thick rod into his tightness as gray, morning light illuminated the newly-redecorated bedroom. Dennis, hard-bodied and hairy, "long-dicked" his newest conquest with increasing speed while the young man beneath him squeezed him tightly with his strong young legs and stroked his broad muscular back.
"Yes, lad, take it!" Dennis grunted as he began thrusting even harder. "Take it all, me lad!" Brad grabbed the big man and pulled his face down so he could give the new Dionysus a deep, passionate probing kiss. Dennis settled his weight on the younger man's body, returning the kiss with interest as his hips pistoned in and out of the willing and eager hole.
"FUCK that ass, big guy!" Corey encouraged. He was watching with hot eyes as Dennis ravaged Brad's nearly-virgin hole. "He loves your cock! Give him everything you got! Just give me a little room so I can grab his cum when he shoots!" Dennis pried himself away from Brad's embrace, which allowed the satyr to come down and grab the blond gymnast's bouncing erection as Dennis found a new gear and began to pound even harder. Sweat was pouring off the muscular redhead as he drove deep into the younger man's eager hole.
"Fuck! Fuck! FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Brad arched, and Corey deep-throated his cock as volley after thick volley of the young blond man's "manjuice" shot out; the other young man swallowed every drop. A few strokes later Dennis exploded directly over Brad's prostate, causing another "mini' orgasm, but this time the young man was enough of himself to feel "Power" flow out of the new Dionysus into him, and Brad knew he'd been forever changed. "Did you just make me a satyr?" he asked accusingly.
"No, lad," Dennis replied. "I made a few changes in yer body so ye can keep up with us! Ye know ye were fast asleep HOURS before Corey an' me were done wi' ye..."
Brad stretched even though Dennis's still-erect cock was buried deep in his guts. "Yes, I know that--now..." he confessed. The young man took stock of himself and realized his purely-average cock had grown in both length and girth--and somehow acquired a foreskin. He also knew he now had enough stamina to keep up with the God of Wine as well as his satyrs. Most importantly, his ass would always be virgin-tight, but he'd never hurt, no matter what went into his back door. All in all, it was a good gift.
"Are you EVER going to let your whores get up?" Mitchel Blaylock had silently slipped into Dennis's bedroom. He wrinkled his nose and gave Corey and Brad a cold, disapproving glance. "Well, I see you two sluts didn't waste any time!"
"D' ye have REASON tae be in me room?" Dennis asked, turning his own disapproving gaze on the still-smooth satyr, "or did ye just come in ta be disagreeable?"
"I am EVER my Lord Dionysus's loyal servant..." The sarcasm was so thick you could dole it out with a spoon. "The first of your supplicants has arrived. Shall I show them in?"
"Supplicants?" Dennis looked confused.
"Probably people who are looking to get Bonded or want a favor," Brad told him. "It happens with every new God. People who aren't already Bonded or are looking to jump a few rungs on the social ladder will come flocking in hopes you'll either Bond them or grant them a divine favor..."
"One of the downsides to being a God," Corey observed.
Dennis reluctantly pulled out of Brad's warm yet tight tunnel and turned to face Mitchel. "Get `em coffee an' breakfast pastries," he instructed. "Tell the supplicants I'll see them AFTER I've showered an' eaten!" The new Dionysus reluctantly climbed out of bed. "Come on, lads!" he said. "We need tae get cleaned up so we can face the rabble..."
Dennis looked with dismay at the heavily-loaded six-egg omelet, pound of hash browns, dozen fresh biscuits, quart-size glass of orange juice, and 36 oz. mug of coffee. "What is this?" he exclaimed, glancing at the younger men's plates, still large by any standard but miniscule by comparison.
"Gods eat A LOT!" Brad told him. "Doing all those stunts you did takes energy! Your body needs to refuel, so eat up before it gets cold!" The new Dionysus took a bite of the omelet and a drink of the coffee. "Don't be surprised if you want `second breakfast' in a couple of hours!" the young man informed him. "Most Gods get used to it--eventually..."
"What can ye tell me about the folks waitin' tae see me?" Dennis asked.
"It's probably best if I let you get your own opinion of each of them," the young blond man replied. "Just remember--if you Bond any of those people out there, you Bond them for life! Yes, they owe you loyalty, and, yes, you can command them, but you'll be part of them as well! By Bonding, you obligate yourself to protect those people and see to their welfare--and that obligation doesn't end with your death! The next Dionysus will be just as obligated, so think about that before you casually Bond someone. You don't want another Mitchel..."
"Well--I--like--THAT!" Mitchel, who had been peeking around the dining room door, came storming in. "You SEE!" he shrieked. "That WHORE is trying to make trouble!"
Brad sighed and rubbed his temples. "That is the best object lesson' I can provide for thinking long and hard before Bonding someone or admitting them to your Inner Circle'!" he commented. "You're stuck with him!"
Now it was Dennis's turn to sigh. "An', there's no way I can get rid o' tha blighter?"
"You can send him off the island," the younger man replied. "Dionysus Entertainment has plenty of tentacles all over the world! You could order him to go work in a club you own in Dubai--but he'll still be mentally connected to you, and I doubt you could trust him to respect your mental privacy..."
Mitchel threw an apple at Brad's head. "Asshole!" he screamed. "I'll scratch your EYES out, BITCH!"
"Bitch--I'm from CHICAGO!" Brad snarked back. Mitchel didn't get the reference.
"Um--I thought you were from the OC!" Corey said.
"Bradley is sayin' he's a `fierce Queen', laddie-buck!" Dennis said. "Mitchel would do well ta' remember that boy took out a GOD with a single shot!"
"You wouldn't let him HURT me, would you, my Lord?" the satyr boy whined.
"Don't give him reason..." Dennis said before addressing himself to his breakfast. Brad watched in silent amazement as the newest Olympian consumed the entire meal before everything could get cold. "I think I may NEED a second' breakfast!" he allowed. "Ah well--let's get on wi' the supplicants', shall we?"
Dennis had elected to leave a few pieces of memorabilia the previous Dionysus obtained over the years but insisted on redecorating the place before he would allow Mitchel to show in the first supplicant. "You know the first one," Brad informed the new Dionysus. "Cassandra Quinn--she's one of the servers at Bacchanal..."
"Oh, Lord..." Dennis sighed. "Ah, well, lad, show her in! Let's get this over with..."
Cassandra Quinn was bustier than Janet Carpenter, but she didn't have the same basic sweetness. Her breasts were firm and high, but she didn't have the ass to balance them out, and they were clearly much younger than her face. The woman's platinum-dyed hair was over-processed and brittle, her makeup was plastered on nearly as thick as any drag queen, and she was "cinched for the Gods." "Cassie--I'd like tae say it's good t' see ya again..." Dennis commented. The insult went over the woman's head, but Brad caught it and smiled to himself. "So--what can I do for ye, lass?"
"Seeing how we're `old friends' and all..." she cooed, "I thought you could just Bond me! The Bacchanal needs a new manager! Now that you're going to be the new Dionysus I don't imagine you'll want to keep your old job..."
"What do you think, Bradley?" Dennis asked.
Way to throw me under the bus, dude! Brad thought. But, oh well... "Since you asked..." he said bluntly. "The other servers hate Ms. Quinn, and the customers aren't too fond of her either! She steals tip money from the other girls, and she has a bad habit of not coming in to work for no good reason. If she wasn't blowing the floor supervisor, she'd have been out long ago! He made sure complaints never reached you..."
"You little SNITCH!" Cassie bared her teeth and tried to claw Brad's face, but Dennis blocked her. "Surely you're not going to believe that lying slut over an old friend..." she said to him.
"Athena sent Bradley tae help me wi' me new role," the handsome redhead told her. "Sadly, th' young man dinna tell me anythin' I didn't already know--or at least suspect! No, me lass, I don't think I'll be Bondin' ye--not anytime soon at least..."
"Well, I like THAT!" Cassie stormed. "You get a little TASTE of power, and all of a sudden you think you're better than the rest of us!"
"He's a GOD," Brad told her. "By definition he IS better than the rest of us!"
"Go home, Cassie!" Before the woman could say another word, she vanished out of the office. "Where did I send her?" Dennis asked, turning to Brad.
The young man cast about until he located Cassie. "She's on the boardwalk," Brad told the new Dionysus. "You really need to be careful about tesseracting people--especially if you don't know where you're sending them! It would be all too easy to send them to `null' space, and it would be damn difficult to get them back! Hermes or Iris MIGHT be able to locate them, but I wouldn't put money on it..."
"Noted, me lad!"
"Next time you want to give someone the `bum's rush,' try sending them to just outside the front gate," Brad advised. "Once they arrive there, you can prevent them from re-entering your Demesne. It's safer that way for everybody..."
"Ye should make sure that goes in tha book when ye write it!" Dennis said.
"I will," the young man agreed. "I think there will be a whole chapter on the pleasures and perils of the Tesseract."
"Who is the next supplicant then?"
"He's not a supplicant..." Brad responded. "Cadwallader Phipps-Ponsonby is Queen Hera's personal secretary. I suspect he's here on some sort of `official' business! Her Majesty likes to send people rather than pick up the phone or send an e-mail..."
"Then, by all means, send him in!"
Cadwallader Phipps-Ponsonby was a typical "Heran:" band-box neat with every crease pressed to perfection. His posture and mannerism were as starched as his underwear. He stood erect and proud in the presence of Dionysus and didn't seem to be at all uncomfortable in his seersucker "summer" suit--which would have looked right at home in a "Great Gatsby"-themed party. (Hera DID like her "retro"-themed clothing.) Somehow, stiff and formal as he was, the man managed to carry off the look with aplomb. "My Lord Dionysus..." he said in a pleasant, British-accented baritone. "I bring you greeting from my Lady, Queen Hera!"
"An' what can I be doin' fer ya--or her Majesty--Mr. Phipps-Ponsonby?"
"My Lady requires to know when you have scheduled your opening reception?" the man replied.
Dennis turned to Brad. "Openin' reception? Oh shite--I completely forgot about that!"
"Considering you're the God of Wine, your fellow Olympians will be expecting something particularly grand..." Brad informed him after scanning Prometheus's memories. "Once a new Olympian is Elevated, it's expected of the new God or Goddess to invite the others to their home so they can look over their newest member. Usually, though, they wait until the new Olympian has had time to settle into his or her role. I need to make sure I include this in my book..."
"Since Athena lent you the services of her newest acolyte, her Majesty thought you wouldn't require so much time..." Phipps-Ponsonby informed Dennis. "However, she DID instruct me to offer whatever assistance may be needed to pull the party off as soon as possible..."
"Tell her Majesty `thank you' for her most kind and GENEROUS offer..." Brad swiftly interjected. "Mr. Hardy is more than capable of hosting his own party, and he will--IN HIS OWN GOOD TIME!"
Phipps-Ponsonby looked decidedly miffed but turned his attention to Dennis. "Are you going to allow this--this--UNDERLING to speak thus?" he groused. "How rude!"
"He saved me the trouble of speaking to an UNDERLING..." Dennis replied, drawing his Godly dignity about him. "Thank Queen Hera for me, but I'll no' be needin' her kind assistance..." The new Dionysus reached into one of the large drawers on his ornate desk and drew out a bottle of Fume Blanc. "I believe this is Hera's favorite...?" he said. "You WILL see it reaches her safely, won't ye, Mr. Phipps-Ponsonby?"
"Yes, Milord..." Phipps-Ponsonby's expression was unreadable, but Brad knew the man was secretly impressed with the new Dionysus. Hera's personal secretary left with a spring in his step.
Dennis looked askance at Brad. "Mitchel let Hera's personal secretary cool his heels while he let some twat in ahead of him? Is he REALLY that stupid?"
"In Mitchel's defense, Mr. Phipps-Ponsonby didn't identify himself as an agent of Hera. Why Mitchel didn't notice that clothing style coupled with Hera's Bond-mark on his wrist is a question I can't answer..."
"Can we expect trouble from her Majesty o'er this slight?"
"I hope not..." Brad replied a bit hesitantly. "It's never a good idea to piss off either of their Majesties, but at least Hera can be a bit more forgiving! If we can pull off the party without any serious disasters, it will go a long way to restoring her good graces! I'll make sure the kitchen has prepared her favorite dishes and be sure the bar is well-stocked with her favorite potables--potent and otherwise!"
"Good lad!" Brad felt a thrill shoot through his body as the new Dionysus gave him a quick hug.
"When do you want to hold the event?" the young man finally managed.
"We'll host this feckin' party on Saturday night," Dennis informed Brad as soon as the door closed. "Let's get that bit o' nonsense out o' th' way!"
"Are you sure that's wise?" Brad asked. "That's going to be a lot of work for everybody in a very short time!"
"How DARE you question our Lord Dionysus!" Mitchel thundered from the doorway.
"Oh, you're back..." Dennis wasn't happy to see the return of the satyr. "Bradley questions, lad, because that's what he's SUPPOSED tae do! I don't want tae make a mistake, an' my Lady Athena doesn't want me tae put me foot in it! Bradly is an excellent resource--one I intend tae make full use of!"
"You REALLY don't need him..." Mitchel protested.
"I think I'll be the Judge o' that!" Dennis snapped. "Now--send in th' next supplicant..."
"Well, that was--interestin'..." Dennis had seen (and dismissed) half a dozen Supplicants without Bonding anyone or granting a divine favor. "Have we got anyone else wantin' somethin', boyo?"
"Just one..." Brad replied. "His name is Jean-Jacques Perreault, and he has an interesting story to tell..."
"Let's have a look then, shall we?"
Brad opened the office door to let in the final supplicant (for today at least). He was a tall, very well-built black man with hair in tight braids that nearly reached the middle of his back. His eyes were tawny, and his features strong and well-sculpted in a way that bespoke a mixed ancestry. The man moved with a surprising grace that belied his bulk.
"Lad, d' ye work at Le Bon Nuit?" Dennis asked.
"Yessir," the big man replied. "I'm a dancer and secondary bartender..." There was a decided Caribbean music in his deep bass voice. "It's a good job--but..."
"But--you want more?" Dennis said.
"No, Sir," the man replied. "It's..."
"Would you rather I tell him?" Brad asked.
Jean-Jacques looked surprised. "Are ya a Loa then?"
"Sort of..." the young blond man replied. "I was gifted with a special ability by one of the Olympians that lets me discover things that I couldn't otherwise know. It really WOULD be better if you told him..."
"I'm in trouble..." the big black man rumbled. "Big trouble!"
"Go on..." Dennis encouraged. "I can't help ye, lad, if I dinna know yer situation!"
"For starts, I'm not here legally..." the man admitted.
"That's easily enough remedied," Brad told the two men. "Human Resources can fake documents that will either give him a green card or make him a naturalized citizen. That's not a problem."
"Citizenship won't protect me from Ezili Ge Rouge, though," he said.
"An' who would that worthy be?"
"Ezili Ge Rouge is the Voodoo Loa of Rage," Brad supplied. "She's the personification of unreasoning anger, so, as you can probably guess, there's no reasoning with her!"
"I was desperate!" the man exclaimed. "I didn't realize what I'd done until it was too late." Jean-Jacques sighed. "I've been running for the past three years..."
"How do I help him then?" Dennis asked Brad.
The young man thought hard, considering every option. "There's no guarantee you can help him..." Brad finally said. "You could Bond him, but that won't end the Red Lady's Rage! Probably the best thing you can do for him is to make him one of your satyrs. Of course, there's no guarantee Ezili Ge Rouge won't transfer her rage to Olympus Island."
"What happens if we don't help him?" Dennis wanted to know.
"He's a dead-man walking," Brad replied bluntly. "When Ezili Ge Rouge finds him, she'll kill him--and God knows how many others! Her `rage' isn't unidirectional..."
"But if Jean-Jacques were a satyr, his connection to th' Red Lady would be severed?" Dennis asked.
Brad nodded. "Ezili Ge Rouge is--occupied--with `other' issues right now..." he agreed. "Her eye isn't on Jean-Jacques. Changing him might be enough to break the chain, but there are no guarantees."'
"An' there are no other choices then?" Dennis asked.
"I can only see two options," Brad replied. "Bond Jean-Jacques and make him one of your satyrs or send him off the island. Prometheus, being older and far wiser, might have some other ideas, but I doubt it; I got my info directly from him."
Dennis turned his attention full on Jean-Jacques. "I can send ye tae one o' me off-island properties," he told the man. "Ye'll be safe there--fer a while at least. Of course, the Red Lady WILL catch up to you one day--an' there's no tellin' who else she' take out when ya go down."
"And mah other option?" Jean-Jacques queried.
"Ye'll enter me service as a Bondsman," the new Dionysus told him. "Truthfully, it's a sort o' slavery; ye'll be loyal tae me, will ye or nill ye. If I command ye, ye'll do as I order--ye'll have no choice! Furthermore, tae protect ye from the Red Lady I'll ha' tae make ye a satyr, so ye'll no longer be human."
"On the other hand," Brad put in, "you'll have a lifetime of protection, excellent health until your death--which will likely be postponed for a quarter-century or more. You'll be immune to a host of diseases from the common cold to pretty much every STD and most cancers. As a satyr, you'll develop certain psychic abilities and have enhanced strength and stamina. In the end, you'll have to decide whether the one is worth the other. You'll also gain a `Bond Gift'--which is sort of a limited wish; I'd explain more about that, but it's super complicated. I'm just giving you the pros and cons of your situation. Dennis can't make that choice for you; neither can I..."
"An' what about mah immortal soul?" the big black man asked.
"I don't deal in souls," Dennis told him. "That's Hades' bailiwick! Most Olympians don't need worship; you can attend Mass on Sundays, go to Confession, say yer Hail Marys' r whatever makes ye' happy! Ye just ha' tae be around when I need ye..."
Jean-Jacques turned his attention back to Brad. "Why don't you wear his Bond?" he asked.
The young blond man showed him his right wrist. "I'm already Bonded to Prometheus, Hephaestus and Athena," Brad told him. "That means, I'm pretty much owned lock, stock, and barrel by three different Gods! Luckily for me, those three aren't competing, so I'm not being pulled in multiple directions at the same time!"
"Then why are ya here?" he asked.
"Because Athena sent me to tutor the new Dionysus, to help him into his new role," Brad replied. "Since she lent my services to Dennis, he has the same power over me as my other Patrons. So far, he hasn't been capricious..."
"Do a hundred push-ups, boyo!" Dennis ordered.
Brad dropped to the floor and began doing the exercise. "I am so hating you right now, Den-Den!" he growled.
"Ye can stop now," the new Dionysus said. "Jean-Jacques needs tae see what Bonding meant..." He patted Brad's nicely-sculpted ass. "Ye looked mighty fine down there though, lad..."
"Thanks for the compliment," Brad said sourly. "You know I'm going to find a way to make you pay for that later..."
"Oh, I do, lad!" Dennis agreed. "An' sure an' I know `twill be most inventive!"
Jean-Jacques stood silently for a while, considering all he'd seen and heard. Finally, the big black man extended his right wrist. "Bond me, Sah," he said. "If I'm Bonded to you, innocents won't suffer because of me foolishness..."
"Good lad!" Dennis agreed. "Give me yer right wrist if ye please..."
"You might want to change his shape when you make him a satyr," Brad offered. "Make it just that much harder for Ezili Ge Rouge to find him..."
Dennis stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I have an idea..." A wine-red bracelet appeared on Jean-Jacques's wrist, and there was a brief blur as the man changed shape. He was still just as tall and broad, but his dark skin was now a tawny gold, and his black hair was now more of a light brown and wavy. It was still very long, but now it wasn't confined into the corn rows; it just fell in thick waves down his back. His eyes were still the same green-flecked gold as before, but now the newest satyr's features were even more sculpted than before, and there was a decidedly Asian cast to his eyes. "You like?" Dennis asked.
"He's fucking GORGEOUS!" Brad opined. "He's going to be very sought-after once he makes his debut. But the important thing is--what do YOU think, Jean-Jacques?"
The newly-transformed man looked into the large mirror over the ornate fireplace. "Not bad," he replied, running his hands down over his own body. "I'm still the same size and build, so I guess there won't be any problem adjusting to this new body. I know I've got a lot more body hair than I used to--and I like that! My voice has changed though..." The accent was still Caribbean, but the music had subtly changed.
"Your new `back story' is your father is French Polynesian, and your mother is African American," Brad told him. "Dennis found you working a club in Charlotte-Amalie on St. Thomas and brought you here. Since you are already a U.S. Citizen, you won't need dual citizenship or a green card; that'll make things somewhat easier for Human Resources, and they won't hate us as much."
"Good lad!" Dennis said to his newest pledge. "I'm going to miss Bradley when Athena takes him back. Now--let's get ye settled in, shall we?"
Mitchel Blaylock slipped into his new bedroom, locking the door behind him. He brought out the "burner" phone he'd been given and dialed the one pre-programmed number. He waited impatiently as the phone rang several times. "Hello?" grumped a deep voice on the other end. "This had better be important!"
"I have news, my Lord Zeus..." the young man said. "I did as you asked, holding Hera's personal secretary, but he didn't come out of the meeting looking angry! Sir--he looked kind of SMUG..."
"Well, shit..." the voice on the phone sighed. "I was hoping the slight to one of my wife's `favorites' would put the Queen on my side, but I suppose that troublemaker Bradley Fox massaged his ego. Ah, well..."
"I suspect it wasn't just Mr. Phipps-Ponsonby's ego' that got massaged!" Mitch told Zeus. "Dionysus didn't Bond' Brad, but he gave him some sort of gift! It's NOT fair..."
"No, boy, it's not." Zeus carefully massaged Mitchel's jealousy to make sure the satyr would continue to serve his needs--even at the risk of Dionysus's displeasure. "Do you have any further news?"
"Yes, Sire," Mitch said. "My Lord Dionysus created a new satyr today..."
"That is his right..." Zeus said suspiciously. "Is there more?"
"Yes, Sire, LOTS more!" the young man told the King of the Gods. "His name is Jean-Jacques Perrault, and he somehow got himself mixed up with Ezili Ge Rouge--who is some sort of Voodoo Goddess of Rage. Brad persuaded my Lord Dionysus to `Bond' this guy--even though it risks the security of Olympus Island?"
"Did he really?" Zeus finally sensed an opening. "Don't worry, Mitchel--the information you gave me will be enough to take Brad Fox down once and for all! I'll be paying Dionysus an unannounced visit this afternoon! You should probably be nowhere in evidence--just to make sure that little shit Brad doesn't' start suspecting and turns his attention on you!"
"Yes, my Lord!" Mitchel smirked. "And you'll reward me for this?"
"Don't worry, young man," Zeus assured him. "I'll make sure you get everything that's coming to you--and more..."
Since Mitchel had disappeared, Dennis ordered Campbell Bishop to take Jean-Jacques to Human Resources to get the complex hiring process started. The experts at HR would have to hack into various data bases to give the man a back story that would check out should anyone feel the need to investigate. A few "doctored" photos and the judicious application of cash would ensure that Jean-Jacques Perrault would never be found out.
Brad watched the new Dionysus consume a massive lunch while he and Corey had smaller, yet still generous, portions. He scanned to see if there was anything he needed to know and came across something interesting. "Zeus has cleared his schedule for the afternoon and is planning to pay an unannounced visit to The Arbor," the young man said out of nowhere.
"Why?" Dennis asked between bites of his third pulled pork sandwich.
"Mitchel has been working with Zeus," the blond man replied. "He admitted stalling Phipps-Ponsonby to cause trouble with Hera, and he also told Zeus about Jean-Jacques! Since Mitchel told Zeus I was responsible for the decision to Bond Jean-Jacques, he plans to use that to gain leverage on me--and you..."
"Dude! You are SUCH a Narc!" Corey teased. "Remind me never to do anything against Dionysus!"
"Athena ordered me to help Dennis out..." Brad replied bluntly. "That's what I'm doing! You don't want me tattling to the boss about the wrong stuff you do--don't do anything, and I'll have nothing to report!"
"So--what shall we do tae spoil His Majesty's day?" Dennis asked.
"I have a plan..." Brad said mysteriously.
"Mr. J. Peter Zeusmann to see you, Sir..." Whitehead intoned. Rather than waiting to see if Dionysus wished to speak with the King of the Gods, the butler and major domo had brought the man out to the poolside where Dennis, naked but for his smart watch, was being massaged by equally-naked Brad and Corey. All three were glistening with suntan oil and clearly very comfortable in their nudity.
"Ah--ahem..." Zeus didn't look to pleased at the spectacle he was confronted with. "I--ah--just dropped in to see how you were getting along in your new role! I--understand you had your first group of supplicants this morning..."
"Word gets around quickly here, doesn't it?" Brad said archly as he began working Dennis's beefy buttocks with expert hands.
"So `twould seem..." Dennis agreed. "Would ye care for a wee drop o' the Tullamore Dew?" he asked Zeus. "That IS yer drink o' choice, is it not Majesty?"
"Why--yes it is!" Zeus agreed. He was looking everywhere but at the show going on in front of him.
"Take off yer clothes an' stay awhile!" Dennis encouraged, He used one of his Godly powers to project a relaxing, happy vibe, and it hit Zeus strongly (since that's where it was squarely aimed). "Me boys give a most excellent massage!"
"Ah--I'd really rather not..."
"What's the matter, Zeusy-poosy?" Corey teased. "Afraid you can't compete with our Den-Den?"
"I am King of the Gods, you insolent whelp!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Corey agreed. "That and $14.95 will get you a small cup of coffee at Starbucks!"
"To what do we owe th' GREAT pleasure o' yer visit, Majesty?" Dennis asked. He elaborately writhed under the two young men's expert ministrations. "Ya sure you won't let one o' me hearties work th' kinks out o' yer back, Majesty? Yer lookin' e'en more tight-assed than usual!"
"Your Rancelman has clearly been tattling when he should have kept his damn mouth shut!" Zeus thundered.
"Me `Rancelman', as ye so delightfully put it, is merely dischargin' tha duty yer own daughter Athena gave him!" Dionysus replied calmly. "An', if I do say so meself, he's been doin' a damn fine job of it!"
"You're making an enemy of me, Bradley Fox!" Zeus thundered.
"No, Sire, I did that when I freed Prometheus!" the blond man replied coolly. "It's not my fault you decided to fight dragons that don't exist!"
"I WILL destroy you--Mortal!" Zeus exploded angrily, and a bolt of lightning shot across a clear blue sky.
"And thereby spell your own doom--Majesty..." Brad replied coolly. He didn't jump when the lightning flashed and the thunder pealed. "Even YOU have to follow the Covenants that govern Olympus Island. If I've done wrong--take me to trial!"
"But ye won't do that, will ye, Majesty?" Dennis said, "fer ye know as well as I that Bradley has done NOTHING tae deserve death or exile!"
"Really?" Zeus said, turning his wrath on the new Dionysus. "What would you call inciting the wrath of a rival pantheon?"
""Twas no' Bradley, Sire..." Dennis replied. "Twas me an' me alone! A young an' foolish mortal desecrated a sacred shrine! Was it stupid? Indeed it was! He offered restitution, but the Houngan would ha' none o' it, so she called upon Ezili Ge Rouge--Loa of Rage tae vent her wrath! Tha Jean-Jacques Perrault who committed that sin is no more! The decision tae Bond him was mine and mine alone! All Bradley did was provide information--WHICH I ASKED FOR! There's nothin' wrong wi' that, Majesty--an' we both know it!"
"The two of you endangered the security of Olympus Island..."
"One MINOR Demigoddess with power concentrated in a small area FAR from here isn't much of a threat," Brad replied. "If the combined power of our ultratech, magic and divine strength can't protect us from a single pissed off Loa, we don't DESERVE to hold the power of Olympus!"
"So--MORTAL!" Zeus thundered. "You're counting yourself among the Gods now?"
"Can you be any more tiresome if you tried?" Brad sighed dramatically. "I'm well aware of my own mortality! But I am equally aware that I was Bound to Olympus Island against my will! Weirdly enough--I don't mind that--although I would have preferred to be consulted! Yes, I was given a helluva Gift--one I hope can benefit ALL the Gods! My services were offered to Dionysus, and I have been doing my best to serve his needs to the best of my abilities! Yeah, I got something wonderful in return and I'm truly grateful! I'd just as happily serve you--if you'd let me..."
Brad stood up so Zeus could see the entirety of his nearly-smooth, hard-muscled gymnast's body. The young man took his cock and stroked it until it was fully hard. "On your back, Den-Den!" he said. "I'm gonna make Zeus's head explode!"
Dennis obligingly did so, rolling onto his back, raising and spreading his legs invitingly. "Fuck me, lad!" he growled. "I know ye want to!"
"Oh, I do!" Brad agreed. His slipped first one then two fingers into the grasping red hole. "Yes, you big bull! You want my fat boy-cock in there. Doncha, big guy?"
"Disgusting!" Zeus rose. "I will not stay and watch this tawdry exhibition!"
"HE wants to be the one fucking Brad!" Corey informed the room. "He wants to rip him open and make him scream like a little bitch!" Then, "This new satyr power could be kinda cool--but that image was, like, totally gross!"
"So Zeus will happily fuck mortals--but he can't stand to watch a God get his ashes hauled?" Brad quipped. "Double standard much?"
"Fer sherr, dude!" Corey agreed.
"If yer leavin', take yer bad weather wi' ye!" Dionysus said. Then: "no more teasin' lad! I want yer cock inside me!"
"Your wish is my command my Lord Dionysus!" Brad said as he removed his fingers than moved his rampantly-erect rod into position and thrust slowly into Dennis's grasping pink pucker. Slowly but surely the tight tunnel yielded to Brad's relentless pressure until he bottomed out against the man's tight outer anal ring. "How's that feel, Den-Den?" Brad asked.
"Glorious, boyo!" he panted. "Now--fuck me slowly at first. Let's build up th' heat a bit before we go fer th' gold!"
Brad planted his feet on the ground and brought Dennis's strong, red-furred legs over his shoulders to give the young man a little deeper access to the new Dionysus's tight tunnel. The young man began a slow thrust, gaining confidence with each in and out push. Dennis was enjoying the experience as much as Brad; the big man caressed the young man riding him with large hands, encouraging him with writhes and moans.
"Fuck me, lad! Fuck me deep, fuck me long!" Dennis encouraged.
"Umnh--oh God, YES!" Brad panted. "I don't know how long I can hold out! You're so fuckin' tight!"
"This is fucking HAWT!" Corey said. He was watching the show with great interest as he stroked his massive boy-cock with increasing rapidity. "Wow, dude, when you commit--you COMMIT!"
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Brad howled as he dumped his load deep in Dennis's tight hole. The shot directly over the big redhead's prostate caused his cock to release a small load of thick white sperm that gathered in glittery pearls on his chest and belly. Brad collapsed on top of his lover and gave him a sweet kiss. "Thank you for letting me do that, Dennis..." he finally whispered.
"An' thank ye fer doin' it, lad!" the big man under him replied. "Ye'll be a truly fine cocksman one day!"
"Oh---my--GOD! You let that murderous WHORE mount you? How could you dishonor yourself like that?"
"Mitchel's back!" Corey quipped. "This is gonna be fun!"
"What do you mean?" The young man suddenly looked scared.
Brad pulled out of Dennis, and the big man sat up on the lounge. "Mitchel, me lad, ye have some explainin' tae do..."
"W-what do you mean, my Lord Dionysus?" The satyr was desperately trying to pretend ignorance.
"I had a visit from King Zeus this afternoon..." Dennis said. "Ye wouldn't know anythin' about that, would ye?"
"No, Lord!" Mitchel lied. He pointed an accusing finger at Brad. "Whatever that whore told you, it's not true!"
"So--yer tellin' me ye DIDN'T purposefully hold up Colin Phipps-Ponsonby? Are ye tellin' me ye didn't know who he works for?"
"Zeus MADE me do it!"
Dennis sighed. "An' did Zeus force ye tae lie about what ye overheard in me office?"
"I--I..." Mitchel knew he'd been caught and there was no way out. "I did it to protect you, my Lord!"
"That kind o `protection' I can do without!" Dionysus said. "Boyo--I need ye tae pack yer stuff..."
"WHAT? You can't send me away!"
"Ah, but I can, me lad!" Dennis said, a trifle sadly. "I'll no' take a viper tae me bosom! A club Dionysus Entertainments owns in Miami needs an assistant manager; I think ye'll do just fine in that role..."
Mitchel was in full panic mode. "No, my Lord--you can't!"
"Don't make me ORDER ye, Mitchel..." Dennis said. "Ya need tae go before I do something we'll both regret!"
"I WON'T go--and you can't MAKE me!" Mitchel screamed.
"Oh, but I can, lad!" Dennis said sadly. "Look at your bracelet..." Everyone saw the wine-red Bond mark fade to a charcoal gray. "Mitchel Blaylock, I repudiate you! I repudiate you! I repudiate you! My hand is no longer o'er ye, an' I no longer hear yer cries! Now--GO FROM MY SIGHT!" Mitchel burst into tears and fled.
"Wow, I didn't know they could do that..." Corey almost whispered.
"Mitchel is still `Bonded' to Dionysus," Brad told the other young man, "but Dionysus has withdrawn his favor. He has all the disadvantages of being Bonded but none of the perks! I almost feel sorry for the poor sod..."
"Don't be," Dennis said, turning back to the other two young men. "He was a tiresome little twat who should ha' ne'er been Bonded! We're well rid o' him! Know ye, I dinna do that lightly; once a God has `repudiated' the Bond, it can ne'er be replaced!"
"That's definitely going to be a whole chapter in my book!" Brad said.
END CHAPTER SEVEN
AUTHOR'S NOTE
As always, shout out to my "editorial staff" "Marko the Magnificent", my chief Critic and cheerleader, "Midwestern" Mark, grammarian supreme and "Jer-bear" my leather-clad Proofreader. Shout out also to "Sive Dom" for his nice note and list of suggestions. I tried to implement a couple of them in this Chapter.
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