Be Quiet, Iolaus


As usual - they aren't mine, I just mess with them a little bit, I'll give them back. No monies made.

NC-17 for m/m sex.

Tang, Ting, Tang, Ting.

Hercules listened to the sound for hours as Iolaus beat his anger out on the plowblade and the anvil. He had followed his lover to the forge, knowing it was where he would be. However, when he had gone in, Iolaus had told him in no uncertain terms to get out.

"It's over, Hercules. You went too far this time." The hunter's voice, usually full of cheer, carried a sharp edge of anger.

"Iolaus, let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," the other man said, pausing in his work. "You went too far. Now get out." He reached down to pick up the plowblade.

Hercules saw him struggle with the unwieldy piece and bent to help, but Iolaus would have none of it.

"I said 'Get out'!" he repeated sharply.

"Iolaus --"

"GET OUT, DEMIGOD!" Iolaus screamed. "I don't need you, or your cursed strength, your calm insight, your wisdom," he hissed, advancing on Hercules. "Now take your tight ass and get out of my forge, get out of my house, get out of my sight, get out of my life. I don't need you!"

Although Hercules knew the reason for his friend's uncharacteristic anger, the intensity of it had surprised him. He had meant only to help. With a heavy heart, he left the forge.

Now, Hercules sat under a tree not far from the forge, listening to the sounds and wondering how he had let things get so out of hand. His mind drifted back to the festival in Corinth, almost a week ago. They had both gotten drunk and Iolaus was flirting. Well, in all honesty, it was the women who had been flirting with Iolaus, but this time the hunter wasn't turning them away and it was getting under his skin.

Hercules sat in a corner as woman after woman had walked up to the gorgeous blond, touching him, kissing him, stroking his hair. The angrier he got, the more he drank; the more he drank, the angrier he got. However, the entire situation had gone to Tartarus in a reed basket when the redhead showed up.

She sashayed over to the hunter, picked up his mead, took a drink and then kissed him, allowing the warmed alcohol to drain back into his mouth.

"Hello, handsome," she purred. "Felicity."

What really got under Hercules' skin was that Iolaus had neither complained nor pulled away from the impudent woman. No, in fact, he had just as seductively introduced himself to her and then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Hercules had crushed the cup he held in his hand when he saw the buxom woman rake her nails up his lover's chest. When she went on to insinuate her leg between Iolaus' legs and fed him a sip of wine, Hercules felt a bitter rage and jealousy rise up in him.

The demigod ran a hand through his hair, remembering the rage that had filled him that night. That was why he didn't usually allow himself to drink very much. Luckily, no one had gotten hurt.

He shook his head, as the scene flashed before his eyes. Iolaus had kissed Felicity deeply and Hercules knew all too well where this was headed. He and the blond hero had traveled together too long for him not to know that Iolaus would soon get a room. He watched angrily as the blond warrior ran his fingers into the woman's fiery tresses and whispered something in her ear.

Hercules stifled a feral snarl of jealousy. At the redhead's sultry laugh, he rose to his feet, determined to pull the offensive female's hands away from his lover.

As he approached the pair, Felicity slid a hand between their bodies. Hercules saw red.

Luckily, Iolaus had noticed his friend striding angrily towards them and stepped in between the irate demigod and the hapless woman. The redhead turned, strangely unperturbed at the other man's approach.

"Get your hands off him," Hercules growled.

"What's the matter, love? He seems willing enough," Felicity responded, with her hands on Iolaus' shoulders. She blew in the hunter's ear and ran a fingernail up and down his neck.

Hercules' temper reached a hotter stage as he watched Iolaus shiver at the caress.

"I have no problems with taking on the two of you," she offered, extending a well-manicured hand towards Hercules' chest.

Hercules intercepted her hand. It took all his control not to snap the slender wrist. "I said get your hands off him," he reiterated, through clenched teeth.

She looked up and at last recognized the controlled rage in the big man's eyes. Uncertainly, she lifted her other hand from Iolaus' shoulder and took a step away from him.

Satisfied, Hercules released her.

"Herc, come on," Iolaus coaxed, trying to calm the other man's rage. "We were just flirting. No harm done."

"You didn't tell me you had a jealous lover," Felicity said, unwilling to give up quite yet. She pinched the hunter's shapely butt. He jumped and giggled at the intimate touch.

Hercules was fondly contemplating how good it would feel to rip her head off her shoulders when a calm deep voice sounded from the shadows.

"Oh, it isn't him you need concern yourself with, my dear." Ares stepped into the torch light. "It's me."

It had been almost six months since the blond hunter had freed Ares from Hephestus' manacles, setting in motion the chain of events that had Hercules, Ares, and Iolaus in their current love triangle.

"Ares, Herc," Iolaus said, glancing between the two angry men. "We were just flirting, that's all."

"Be quiet, Iolaus," came the too calm voice of the dark god. He bent his stare upon the redhead, and she went pale.

"You're -- you're Ares, god of war," Felicity stammered.

Ares paused in his slow stalk, held his hands out, slightly away from his body and bent at the waist in a shallow bow. "In the flesh." He looked the woman up and down.

Disconcerted, Felicity turned to Iolaus. "Two jealous lovers? I can understand why, love, but you are dangerous. Sorry." She beat a hasty retreat out of the tavern.

Iolaus looked at the two men, and Hercules saw the hunter realize he was in trouble.

"Iolaus," Ares purred, approaching the blond. "What are we going to do with you?" Hercules stood on the other side of the hunter. Sharing a glance at his half-brother, he nodded once in understanding. Then the two sons of Zeus herded Iolaus against the wall.

"I was just flirting!" he protested.

"Iolaus, you were going to take her upstairs. Admit it," Hercules accused.

"We had an agreement," Ares said, reaching out to stroke the side of the hunter's face.

Iolaus had no intention of taking this lying down. "Now, hold on," he began, anger flaring in his voice.

Grasping his chin, Ares firmly turned the blond head to face his dark visage. "Iolaus, be quiet," he growled.

Hercules watched as his brother lifted Iolaus' face, the full lips claiming and possessing Iolaus' mouth. The dark god pressed the smaller man's body against the wall with his own, his thigh pressed against the bulge in Iolaus' pants. The hunter surrendered to the strength and domination of the kiss. Hercules shifted to ease his own growing need, as Iolaus' hands came up to touch the hard, black leather covering the war god's chest.

"Ares, please. Someone will see us," Iolaus whispered, after Ares broke the kiss.

The War God made no reply, merely rocking his leg against the other man's groin. Iolaus moaned, his hands clutching at the black leather vest. Ares leaned against the wall, trapping the blond against it. The dark god caught his own full lower lip between his teeth and then dragged it loose with a look of sympathy on his face.

"Aw," Ares commiserated, as he ran his hand down Iolaus' face to his neck. Iolaus shivered. "But then again, you love it!" Then Ares' raised his hand to Iolaus' jaw, lifting it so the hunter had to look up into his eyes. He stared for a moment, his thumb stroking the hunter's chin as his hand still covered Iolaus' throat.

"I was just flirting," Iolaus defended himself weakly.

"Perhaps a lesson is in order." Ares looked over at Hercules. He stood up abruptly, leaving Iolaus leaning against the wall. "What do you think, brother?"

"We all agreed," Hercules answered. "To prevent jealousy, no going outside the three of us."

"That was your idea, not mine! "

"Iolaus, be quiet," Ares said, distractedly. "You're right. We all agreed." Then he looked down at Iolaus like the hunter was a cluster of ripe grapes. He lowered his head again and once more claimed Iolaus' lips. As the kiss grew more intense, the god and mortal were enveloped in a bright light.

Hercules saw Iolaus wrap his arms around his brother's neck and he watched as Ares straightened up, pulling the blond hunter fully against him. The demigod loved to watch Iolaus surrender to Ares' domination. It excited him. He readjusted his pants as Ares' hand closed over the hunter's ass, grinding their groins together. Then the light faded and Ares set the hunter on his feet, releasing him. Iolaus slumped against the wall and Hercules got a look at what Ares had done to him.

Iolaus was almost glowing. The hunter looked up, panting from the kiss. His hair reflected the torch light, shimmering gold and white. The tangled mop begged to be smoothed, touched. The heavy purple vest had been replaced with a light blue silk shirt that wrapped around the hunter's body, moving with him. It made Iolaus' blue eyes stand out, a perfect match. The shirt outlined every muscle, every rib, and made the bronzed skin glow. Hercules noticed how the shirt practically begged you to reach out and touch its smoothness, and that of the body beneath it. As the hunter tried to slow his breathing, he felt the burning stare of his best friend. Hercules watched as the shirt both displayed and hid the hardened nubs of Iolaus' nipples.

"Hercules," Iolaus panted, but he saw the demigod's eyes dip lower.

The pants were -- sinful. They were a thin black leather that displayed the hunter's erection, the muscles in his legs, everything. They clung to the hunter's body like a second skin.

Iolaus straightened up and looked down at himself. "What have you done?!" he cried, looking first at Ares and then at Hercules. As Iolaus looked left and right, Hercules noticed the earring in Iolaus' ear. It was Ares' symbol, the sword. A gold version of the one in Ares' ear.

"What do you think, brother?" Ares questioned, with a dark laugh.

"I want him."

"Oh wait, you haven't seen the best part." Ares moved behind the hunter. He pulled Iolaus back against him with an arm around his shoulders. Then, with a stroking hand, Ares pulled the shirt aside. In the torchlight, Hercules saw on Iolaus' left pec, very clearly emblazoned a black sword.

"No!" Iolaus protested as he looked down at himself.

"Be quiet, Iolaus."

"No one will touch me if they see that."

"That," Ares whispered, in the hunter's ear, "is the general idea, Golden One." Then the god of war chuckled. "And those pants? Well, let's just say they're special." He slid his hand over the laces of the pants.

Iolaus twisted at the caress. "What have you done to me?"

"Your need will only increase, lover."

"No!" Iolaus cried, still being stroked by Ares.

Catching on, Hercules chuckled at the punishment Ares had chosen. "We've warned you, Iolaus."

"But I was just flirting!"

"Have a good night, Golden One. We'll see you in the morning," Ares said, moving away from the hunter. The god of war held his hand out to Hercules.

"Guys? Don't do this to me, huh? Iolaus begged. "Okay, I'll stop flirting, I promise. Don't leave me here like this." He found himself talking to thin air. The sons of Zeus had zapped out, and left him standing in the middle of the crowded tavern, acutely alone.

Iolaus pounded at the plow blade, vainly trying to take out his anger on the heavy metal.

Okay, he thought, maybe he had gone too far with the redhead, but Hercules was being so sullen and he had wanted to flirt. He had tried to flirt with the demigod, and gotten dirty looks for his efforts. He had been drunk, he rationalized, but his honest conscience reared its head. Okay, he had pushed Herc too far, but he had mostly just been hoping that the demigod would come claim him. Then that redheaded minx had shown up.

He paused in his rhythmic beating on the anvil. By the gods, she had been warm, soft, obviously experienced and more than willing. That was more than Herc had seemed to be, at the time.

Iolaus quickly diverted his thoughts. So fine, he had promised, and he was more than happy with Hercules and Ares. Especially Ares. The war god could bring out the submissive side of Iolaus with a single kiss. He loved it when Ares went studs and hard leather.

Hades! he cursed, as his dick began to stir. He threw the hammer against the far wall of the forge in frustration, anger, and pain.

That night at the tavern had been a night in Tartarus. When Ares changed his clothes, they had literally caressed his body, making him even harder with every move he made. He had tried to take the earring out of his ear, but it was solid. He would have had to wake a blacksmith or rip his ear to get it out. Neither had been an option at that time.

He reached up to touch the piece of gold still in his ear. Maybe! maybe he didn't really want to take it out, after all.

He thought of Ares' other gift, that symbol on his chest. He had tried to wash it off, but that hadn't worked. Absently, he rubbed the prominent mark above his left nipple, then cursed as he felt himself swell inside the tight pants.

"Damn you, Ares! " he screamed to the empty forge. I won't beg!

"Suit yourself, Golden One," came the disembodied voice of the god of war.

At the festival, he had tried to bandage the mark, to hide it, but the bandage erupted into flames. Then he had wisely decided a retreat was in order, and tried to make his way out of the city. Unfortunately, every time he turned around, there seemed to be some gorgeous woman rubbing against him. He had been so hard.

Then there was the woman who had done more than flirt, but as she pushed his blue shirt open, she had backed away from him in fear.

"Sorry, handsome, you belong to Ares. No way!" She left quickly.

In thin-lipped desperation, Iolaus had decided to stay where he was and take care of the situation himself. He began to unlace the pants, only to discover that they wouldn't open. "Great! What if I have to piss?"

"They'll let you do that," came the dark laughing reply.

Iolaus spun around to see Ares standing in the corner.

"Okay, you've had your fun. You've made your point. Let me go," Iolaus gritted, in a controlled rage.

"Oh, but Golden One, you love to flirt so much. Go have fun," the dark god replied, clearly enjoying the entire situation.

The hunter found himself suddenly back in the middle of the festival again.

As Ares approached him, Iolaus knew he was the only one who could see the god. "Rules, Iolaus. You are stuck in this festival until tomorrow morning and if you can get one of these mortals to fuck you, you can get out of those pants." Ares towered over the blond. "But if you can't get them to ignore these --" and the god's hand stroked the mark under his shirt and the earring -- "then you have to apologize to Hercules and me. Only then will you be freed."

Iolaus' mouth got the better of him. "Never!" He stared defiantly into the dark eyes, which for some reason sparkled. "I am a free man and can do as I please!"

"Then bear the consequences of breaking your promise, free man." Ares disappeared in a flash of light.

Immediately, another hand had stroked Iolaus' ass. He spun to face a woman who obviously wasn't looking for directions.

One person after another had approached the golden hunter, not all of them female, but each had backed away from him, after seeing either the earring or the mark on his chest. Iolaus had tried to leave, but ran into an invisible barrier. He was stuck in the central part of the festival. As the night wore on, he got madder and more uncomfortable, until finally at sunrise he was transported to Ares' temple, where the god and the demigod reclined comfortably together in a large bed.

"You sorry bastards!" Iolaus said furiously. "How dare you? That wasn't funny!"

"I thought the drunk just before sunrise was pretty amusing." Ares chuckled, egging the smaller man on.

"Take the pants off!" he demanded.

"Apologize, and it's over," was the calm response.


Iolaus had stormed out of the temple. He made his way to the forge, but the pants continued to rub and caress him, so by the time he got there, he could barely walk. He had tried everything. Yeah, he could take care of bodily functions, but as soon as he finished, the trousers closed themselves up, not even allowing him to touch himself long enough to assuage his desire. He had tried stroking through the leather, yet it somehow prevented him from feeling the friction. He had finally sat on his bed and through training he had received in the East, put himself into a trance-like state. It had taken forever to clear his mind, but it had worked. His aching shaft finally softened.

During the next few days, he had to return to that trance several times to ease the ache in his groin. A simple thought, a dream, a cool breeze on his overheated body, was enough to set him off.

Then Hercules had come to the forge, and Iolaus had cursed at him and driven him away.

"Oh, Hades," Iolaus said, frustrated. He picked up a file and began to sharpen the plow blade.

By the time he was finished, the simple farm instrument could have been used as a weapon of war.

Hercules appeared in the doorway. "Iolaus."

Iolaus ignored him as he lifted the heavy blade off of the anvil.

"Ares is being stubborn," Hercules said, not moving any nearer. "Just apologize and he'll let you go."

"Apologize for what? For holding a woman in my arms and enjoying it?" Iolaus said angrily. "For enjoying myself?" He straightened up and looked at Hercules. As he looked at his lover, desire arrowed through him. "Oh, Tartarus!" the hunter gasped, as his cock sprang to life. "Herc, just go away." He felt strong hands on his arms, as Hercules came over to him. "Don't touch me!

"Love, I don't care about Ares' marks on you," the demigod murmured, as he helped Iolaus sit down.

"Help me, Herc. I'm hurting," Iolaus begged.

"I know you are. Come on into the bedroom with me."

"Uh, uh, uh," Ares corrected, sparkling into existence in the doorway between the forge and the house. "Sorry, brother, but you aren't just a mortal. The pants won't open for you," the god of war explained. "I knew you were going to go soft on me."

"Let him go, Ares. He's had enough."

"Nope. My Golden One must learn his lesson. If I back off now, he'll be twice as bad the next time. He was teasing you, and he broke his word."

"Screw you, Ares!" Iolaus hissed, angrily.

"Oh," the god said, with a hurt look on his face. "Are you hard again, and hurting?" He approached Iolaus and lifted his face, kissing him.

Iolaus whimpered as Ares' tongue sought and gained entry to his mouth, finding himself greedily sucking on it. "Please, Ares, take them off," Iolaus begged, pulling the dark head to his again.

"You are the one denying yourself, my sweet," Ares whispered, as he held the desperate hunter to him. He claimed the offered lips once more and then whispered, "Two words. That's all it takes."

"I won't!"

Ares shook his head in mock sadness. "Wrong two words, Iolaus.

"I really wish you'd stop being so stubborn," Hercules quietly interjected. "That was your last chance to come to your senses."

Iolaus blinked once and was surprised to find himself standing in the middle of Ares' bedroom with his arms chained above his head. He saw Hercules in front of him, but felt Ares behind him. The war god rubbed up against him, running his hands down the hunter's arms and then his sides and waist, until the hands rested on the waistband of his pants.

"Please, don't," Iolaus pleaded, as Ares continued to rub against him. Hercules came closer and stroked his face, a gentle caress, but the War God's hand slid to the front of the hunter's pants.

"What's wrong, lover? Aren't we enough for you?" the demigod asked, as Ares bit at the exposed inside of the hunter's arms.

"Of course you are," Iolaus groaned. "You know you are!" He watched as Hercules caressed his own burgeoning erection.

"Beautiful, brother," the dark god whispered from behind him, pausing in his torture of Iolaus' body.

"Then why do you flirt that way?" Hercules asked, sounding almost plaintive.

"I wanted your attention, but you were just sitting there!" Iolaus exclaimed sincerely, as he watched Herc continue with his self-gratification. He groaned as Ares pinched his nipples just hard enough to make him jump. "Please, Ares, stop. Free me or stop."

"Hardly, Golden One," came the purred response. Then Hercules had stepped up, and the hunter was sandwiched between the two brothers. He could only feel the masses of hot muscle rubbing against his body, and as they kissed, both the god and the demigod began to push, and rub against him.

"You know the rules, Iolaus," Hercules replied, drawing his brother out from behind the smaller man. "Come here, Ares." Iolaus watched as the two mouths met, he tried to look away, but was unable to. Dark and light meeting together, beard and smooth, black leather and braided leather.

"Oh gods, stop, please! I won't flirt anymore!"

"Not enough, Iolaus," Ares whispered. They kissed again, but the god looked at the desperate mortal, and sighed deeply. He touched Hercules' arm. "We need to finish with him first, brother."

Both god and demigod approached the helpless mortal. Iolaus tried to pull away, but the effort was wasted. Ares pulled the slight man's hips against him, forcing Iolaus to arch his back and exposing him fully. The dark god ran a hand over Iolaus' chest. He bit and sucked at the mark he had placed there. The hunter's head dropped back in a groan, as he felt Ares' teeth graze and bite at him. He fought, but all he ended up doing was exciting himself more, as his entire lower body rubbed against the god's body.

Then Hercules kissed him, drawing on Iolaus' tongue, his hand controlling the hunter's head. He was stretched out between the two of them like a bone between two dogs, and he loved it. He jerked as Ares hand closed firmly over the laces of the pants, and began to rub up and down his throbbing shaft.

"Please, stop," Iolaus begged, still determined not to apologize for his innocent fun.

"One of the women was a trap," Ares casually informed the mortal, meeting his eyes.

Iolaus froze, his need momentarily forgotten. "Which one?"

"Guess," Hercules invited.

The hunter thought for a moment, and then it all made sense. "The redhead. Felicity."

"First guess. Very good," Ares said, releasing the mortal's body and allowing him to stand.

But Iolaus hadn't quite given up yet. "You're lying, trying to make your point."

"Golden one, I may manipulate and use, but I don't lie." The dark god laughed.

"That's why Ares showed up when he did, Iolaus. To protect you from yourself. That's what I wanted to tell you at the forge," Hercules added. "Now, Iolaus, you have a choice. You can either apologize and get this over with, or you can be quiet while we torture you until you do apologize."

Neither of the sons of Zeus gave him a chance to answer, they both moved close to his restrained body. Ares' hands returned to his chest, pushing him back against Hercules, whose large hands began to stroke the hunter's belly and lower. He groaned and twisted, trying to thrust into the friction.

"I can't stand this!"

"Fine," Ares said, pulling Hercules to him. Then they began to battle for dominance.

Iolaus couldn't contain the groan as their hands sank into each other's hair and their hard cocks strained against each other. He could see their muscles strain, their lips, their tongues dueling for the edge, hands sliding over sweat-slicked bodies. Then Hercules twisted Ares' arm behind his back. He wrenched Ares' head back and kissed him brutally.

"So that's how you want it, huh, brother?" Ares said with a knowing smile. "I always knew there was a bit of the Sovereign in you."

"Cute," Hercules growled in his face. His hand slid down the smooth black leather of his brother's thigh. The god struggled, but Hercules drew him tighter and thrust his groin against his. Ares was breathing hard.

"Come on, you started this. You gonna finish it?" The challenge was evident in the war god's voice.

"Oh yeah," Hercules promised darkly, still restraining his brother against his chest. The demigod ran his hand over the smooth black leather covered ass. "Anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, brother?"

Iolaus squirmed and moaned as he watched the other two men.

"Be quiet, Iolaus," Hercules growled, as he claimed the war god's lips.

Iolaus watched in amazement as Ares allowed it. He struggled a bit, but used none of his powers. It was obvious that he wanted Hercules to handle him this way.

The demigod lifted his head and smiled ever so slightly. Then he pushed Ares away, and ordered, "Loose the vest."

Ares stood up and collected himself, throwing his hair back in that 'I am still in control of this situation' fashion. He looked tauntingly at his younger brother.

"This vest?" he asked pointing to his chest.

Hercules nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and hooking one leg over a convenient table.

Ares paused, then met his brother's eyes and slid his hand down the edge of the black leather vest. The god moved one hand to the front of his pants, sliding his hand slowly up, caressing himself for just a moment before unbuckling his sword.

"Ares," Iolaus whispered.

Ares whole attitude changed from seductive to irritated. "Be quiet, Iolaus," he instructed sharply. "You'll ruin the mood."

Then his hands returned to his own body and made the removal of a simple piece of clothing into an erotic striptease. His left hand went to the right side of the vest and slowly came up the furred chest, pushing the leather away from his body, stopping to tweak his own nipple, and slowly turning his head as he pushed it past the curve of his shoulder. Then his right hand followed the same path, after first traveling across his belly and back up the magnificent chest. He dropped his head back and shook that unruly mass of curls. With his chest fully exposed to his brother, Ares pushed the vest completely from his shoulder.

"Is that what you want, Hercules? Hm?"

"Oh yeah," the demigod answered, his voice rough and low. Hercules stood, moving to close the gap. Before he got there, Ares brought his hand to his own chest to excite himself for his brother.

"Oh, gods," Iolaus whimpered.

Ares pointed an angry finger at him, and the blond hunter found himself with a gag in his mouth.

"I told you to be quiet!"

"Very nice," Hercules said.

"I do have my uses," Ares responded, seductively. The demi-god pulled him up tightly and attacked his neck. Ares groaned and turned his head as Hercules' teeth drew blood.

"Oh, yeah, little brother, let it go."

Iolaus could only watch as Herc's hand fumbled at the lacings on Ares' pants. The demigod lost patience and ripped the leather. His hand sank out of view. Ares' groan and thrust told the blond that Hercules had that delicious piece of meat in his hand and was stroking it.

"I want you, Ares."

"Ah arry," Iolaus tried to say past the gag, but his apology went unheard as Ares groaned even louder.

"Yessss, Hercules, go, little brother! I want it!"

"Suck me," Hercules instructed.

"Oh, you're really pushing it."

"Do it!"

Ares sank to his knees and unbuckled his brother's belt He took Hercules' straining member in his mouth. Hercules grunted and leaned over, supporting himself on his brother's shoulders.

"So good, Ares!" he cried, as Ares took him deep.

"Ah arry!" Iolaus cried, but it was lost to the two sons of Zeus. Iolaus could only watch as Hercules began to stroke deeply into Ares' mouth. Faster, harder, and Ares taking every bit of it, his own burgeoning erection standing hard from the remnants of his pants. Then Hercules pulled roughly away. Ares stood up.

"Hot for me, brother? I love to go down on you. You taste so good."

Iolaus realized Ares was in control, even now. He pushed Hercules' vest from his shoulders, the god's hands caressing the newly exposed expanse. "I may be beautiful, but you are magnificent. Come on, little brother, finish it."

Iolaus struggled against the chains, rubbing his wrists raw, as he watched the scene unfold. Hercules claimed Ares' lips again, grinding, using his strength, while Ares sucked on his brother's tongue. They began to thrust and push at each other. Hercules enclosed both of their cocks in one of his huge hands. Iolaus groaned again, then tried desperately to speak around the gag filling his mouth.

"Iolaus, be quiet!" they both ordered.

They began to thrust, but Hercules released their straining cock, getting an angry glare from his brother. The demigod grabbed Ares by the back of the neck and pushed him over the table he had just been sitting on.

"Ready, brother?" he snarled, as he ripped the remains of the black leather pants from the god. "Oil, Ares." A small pot appeared in Herc's hand, he set it down and began to stroke it over the god's ass.

"Ah eely arry," Iolaus pleaded, fighting with the chains. He watched as Hercules opened the god, holding him down with the other hand.

"Come on, Hercules, do it. Fuck me!"

"Patience, patience."

Then Hercules drove himself hard into the other man.

Ares' head twisted. "Yesss. Fuck me hard, little brother."

Iolaus twisted, fighting the chains that bound his wrists. He felt the blood dripping down his arms as Hercules buried himself over and over into the god's willing body, to Ares' obvious enjoyment. When the demigod began to stroke Ares cock, the god grunted inarticulately and began to counterthrust, breathing hoarsely.

"Come for me, Ares," Hercules growled, as his face reflected the ecstasy.

All three were covered in sweat, twisting and straining. The god was breathing in harsh gasps, thrusting back and forth, as his brother drove himself deeper and harder into him. Ares' head twisted, his rhythm frantic. Iolaus could see Herc's hand milking the god, hard.

"Give up control, Ares. Come!"

With a cry, Ares came hard in Herc's hand, followed by his brother burying himself deeply over and over.

Iolaus leaned against the chains, wishing he could come himself, but the accursed pants wouldn't let him. As the sons of Zeus separated, he regained his feet, ready to do anything to get free of this unbearable torment.

Slowly, the other two men stood up. Ares cleaned them both and reappeared his own pants, as Hercules closed his. Together, they walked over to the restrained mortal.

Ares disappeared the gag. Anything you'd like to say to us, Golden One? he asked mockingly.

Iolaus lowered his head and said, "I'm sorry. You were right. I was going to break my word. I was just mad that you would leave me that way," he confessed. "Please let me loose."

"Of course, beloved," Ares whispered in his ear, as the pants disappeared.

Hercules went to the table and returned with the pot of oil. He coated his hand and moved behind Iolaus.

"Oh gods, please, Herc! Please!" Iolaus begged, relaxing back against his friend. It took only five strokes before Iolaus' overtaxed body released, as Iolaus groaned and thrust. "Again," he whispered.

"Oh no, my friend. It isn't going to be that easy for you." Hercules laughed.

Shortly thereafter, Iolaus knelt between the two sons of Zeus, Ares deeply buried in his ass, while he took Hercules in his mouth.

"You love it, don't you?" Ares asked, as Iolaus exuberantly swallowed the huge member of the man he had traveled with for years. "To have both of us strong with you."

Hercules groaned, and sank his hand into the golden curls. The demigod began to thrust hard into Iolaus' mouth and he opened his throat. Iolaus almost lost it when Ares reached down and began to stroke his straining erection.

"No more flirting. You belong to us. Do you understand?" Hercules grated.

Iolaus groaned as he felt Hercules begin to gather. Then the demigod stroked deeply and came down Iolaus' throat. As he did, Ares released Iolaus' cock and slowed his pace.

"More!" Iolaus cried, his mouth finally free. His only answer was a dark laugh. He tried to reach for himself, but Herc grabbed his wrists and prevented it. He growled in frustration until Hercules knelt beside the bed he was on and began to kiss him. The demigod drew on his tongue, possessed his mouth, being as strong with him as he had been with his brother. Iolaus answered him, groaning, wiggling, pushing back, opening himself even wider to the god's forceful strokes. "Let me come," he cried. "Please, I need to come!"

Hercules again claimed his mouth, as Ares strokes speeded up. He was pushing, his chest heaving, his lips clinging to the demigod's, desperately seeking the extra stimulation. He cried out and stiffened, as once more Ares took his straining member in his hand. The realization of how helpless he was between these two, coupled with the sensations of Ares' hand on his raging cock and the burning stretch as Ares stroked that spot over and over, combined with the feeling of Herc's tongue in his mouth, pushed him over the edge. He fountained hard, inarticulate grunts coming out of his chest. He collapsed across his forearms.

Later, that evening, Iolaus lay curled up against Hercules.

"You were going to be used as bait, Iolaus. To trap us."

"Okay, I understand," the hunter replied quietly.

"Your trusting nature is going to get you in trouble, Golden One," Ares said from beside them. Iolaus stroked the mark on his chest. Ares raised a hand to erase the symbol.

"Don't," Iolaus said quickly. "Leave it as a reminder."

Ares shrugged.

"Don't feel too bad, love," Hercules said. He pulled his hair aside and Iolaus saw a matching earring in Herc's ear. He smiled lightly.

"So, have you learned your lesson?" the God of War asked the mortal.

"Yes, but I have one question."

"And that is?" Hercules inquired.

An evil smile spread over Iolaus' face. "When's the next festival?"

Pillows rained down on the hunter as both the god and the demi-god cried, "Oh, be quiet, Iolaus!


The End

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