This story was
written by my friend and beta-reader Tol.
I found it so interesting that I wrote a prequel to the story -- LESSONS LEARNED.
By Tol
“Hail, fucking
Ares, fucking God of War!” Snarled the powerful king on bended knee before the
black altar. “I’m fucking here. Where the fuck are you, you -!” Words failed
the king. “You sod.” Finally he sighed and stood up but the next moment his
fist crashed on the flat stone. “You hear me Ares?!” he cried. “This is – this
is the last time I come here and wait for you! You promised! Didn’t I do what
you wanted? Wasn’t I good enough? Where are you?!”
“He won’t answer. When are you going
to get it through your thick skull, Iph?” Hercules asked conversationally from
the darkness before he stepped forward into the torchlight. His brother, the
King of Corinth, flushed darkly with rage at the unwelcome intrusion. “He used
you just like he uses everyone. Then he threw you away. He isn’t coming back.”
“Gods, I hate it when you start
moralizing!” Iph taunted savagely. He knew as only a brother could what buttons
to push. “What’s the matter? Is your little cock sucker on his knees for
someone else?”
“You shut up about Iolaus!” Herc
told him flatly, coming close enough to menace his smaller older brother. “He’s
worth two of you. He never – Ares is my enemy! How could you?!”
“Oh, grow up, Hercules! It’s always
got to be about you, doesn’t it?”
“You let Ares fuck you!” The
horrifying scene Hercules had stumbled across the month before was indelibly
imprinted on his brain. Nights it returned to haunt him, the images making
sleep impossible. A naked Ares mocked him with laughter as he thrust into
Iphicles perfect golden ass. Herc hadn’t been able to move, to turn away, not
even close his eyes or ears to how Iph, like a slut, had begged Ares for more.
“I’ve got news for you, Herc, so did
Iolaus,” Iph took great pleasure in telling his brother. “Yeah, and we both
loved it. You’re too much the fucking prig to be enough for -”
Iph had time to wonder if at last
he’d gone too far as a howling Hercules grabbed him by his leather tunic and
spun his body across the temple as if he was made of straw. Iph scrambled to
his feet after landing hard against the wall.
“That’s like you, isn’t it?”
Iphicles said bitterly. “The whole world thinks you’re this great hero. They
didn’t have to grow up with you. You’re just a murdering bastard.”
“That was an accident! You know I
didn’t mean to do it!”
“You could have broken my neck
flinging me like that,” the king told him, pressing his advantage as he closed
in on his brother. “You need to be punished again. Remember what mother told
you?”
Aghast Hercules whispered weakly,
“I…I’m sorry, Iph. You’re ok aren’t you?”
“What did she say?” demanded his
brother ruthlessly.
“We’re grown up now!” Herc
protested.
“What. Did. She. Say?”
Hercules face burned. “But-“
“Give me your belt.”
Speechlessly Hercules stared at his
brother who it turned out was perfectly serious. “Iph…” he pled.
Iphicles put his hand out. “Now.”
Slowly Hercules unfastened his belt
and handed it to his brother before turning his back. In a heartbeat, Iphicles
savagely ripped his brother’s vest down his arms and tossed it away. Next he
dragged Herc’s leather pants down around his knees.
“On the altar. Let’s get this over
with,” Iph said briskly. “Bad boys have to be punished.”
Hidden in the deep gloom of his
temple, Ares smothered a laugh.
TOL – October 2003