Rating: NC17
Warnings:
This story contains violence, bondage and graphic consensual sex between a man and a woman. If you are under 18 or if this is illegal where you live, please read something else.
Disclaimer:
The character of Ares, God of War belongs to Greek Mythology and also apparently to Universal Studios and Pacific Renaissance and this story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, Renaissance Pictures or any other entity involved in the making of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys or Xena: Warrior Princess. The character of Sheath belongs to Stathira
She stood waiting in the shadows behind the outlying ring of columns, idly pushing the leather of her gloves more firmly against the flesh between her long fingers. He'd commanded her presence that night and from long experience she knew better than to be anything but prompt. She smiled beneath the masking leather hood covering her head - her ruby red lips almost grinning with feral delight as she contemplated the evening ahead of her.
Her Master was never one to disappoint.
Many knew him as the Slayer of Nations. Warriors on both sides of conflict alike offered him obeisance, especially before battle. The most evil and feared warlords themselves bowed to him, and felt their bowels turn to jelly if they knew they had displeased him in any way. The world at large knew him as Ares, God of War.
She knew him as her Master.
Years before, after a life of belonging nowhere and to no one, she had gone to him and pleaded with him to train her as a warrior. He had told her that he would consider her request. Exactly one week from the day she had gone to him she should return to his temple and he would give her his decision. She had entered his Throne Room to find him sprawled with studied indifference on his massive throne, one leg carelessly slung over the side of one of the arms. The pose had stretched taut the already-tight leather sheathing his legs, and revealed the large bulge of his manhood. He was idly turning a small knife between his fingers. Without looking at her, he had asked if she still wanted him to teach her, to which she had replied in the affirmative.
Ares had smiled then, raising his head to pierce her to the core with his dark eyes. In a calm, matter of fact tone he had told her that yes, he would train her. But not as a warrior. Oh no, he had other plans for her. He told her he intended to completely remake her - in his own image. She would belong to him in heart, mind, body and soul. As she stood assimilating his words, he suddenly stood and with lithe, pantherish grace strode down the steps of the dais to stand before her, his face devoid of any expression. "Do you agree to this?"
In response, she went to her knees before him. "Yes - Master."
Ares smiled, a thin, cruel smile that didn't quite reach his beautiful dark, glittering eyes, and nodded.
He had taken away everything that had been hers in life until then, even her very name. With almost careless disinterest, he had renamed her Sheath. At times, he called her "My Sheath." Indeed, she DID become his sheath – and his dagger, in many, many ways.
The God of War had trained her in all manner of arts. In the art of assassination - this included rigorous and brutal training in every kind of weaponry and method of killing and torturing human beings. He had also trained her in the love arts. He trained her how to use sex and her superbly attuned body to gain information, and to simply drive men to the border of insanity. Along the way he taught her how to pleasure him, and to be pleasured by him - and only him.
Yes, he was her Master in every sense of the word. But in the world in which she operated outside the precincts of Ares' most sacred temple, SHE was Master - of any and all who fell under her eye. And no man coming into her orbit was ever the same after she used, dismissed and discarded him.
Her smile grew into one of sublime satisfaction. She had but late returned from the latest mission he had sent her on - successful as always. She knew he would be pleased. She folded her leather-clad arms across her chest, the full leather bodysuit she wore creaking in an almost erotic fashion.
Out of nowhere, a pair of hands slid over her taut, flat tummy and she was pulled back against a hard body that she knew instantly was aroused, judging from the bulge that was now pressing hard against her lower back.
"You did well, my Sheath," the dark Lord of War murmured against her ear.
Her stomach clenched tightly as one hand caressed her belly before wandering lower to slide between her legs and press tightly over her leather-covered mound.
She drew in a sharp breath. "I'm glad you're pleased, my Lord," she replied softly as his full, moist lips lowered to her neck. A heartbeat later, and she felt his tongue sear a lazy, wet trail across her skin.
Infinite minutes later, Ares raised his head. "Indeed, my pet. You always do please me," he told her in a deceptively gentle tone, his hand now rhythmically pressing up against her sex. She could feel the wetness beginning to flow through her dark places and swallowed hard.
The god's free hand now moved to wander over the snugly fitting hood that covered her entire head, except for her eyes and mouth and two small holes beneath her nose. No one ever saw the features of Ares' Sheath while she was in the precincts of the temple except for Ares himself.
He caressed her head and she opened her mouth and exhaled slowly.
"Mutos will think twice about extorting towns under my special protection from now on, I don't doubt," Ares observed as he pressed even more insistently against Sheath's now-engorged mound. The hand that had been on her head now moved to her neck. He pulled her against him, imprisoning her even more tightly, as his own engorged and leather-covered member rubbed against her hindquarters.
She moaned.
"Be patient, my Sheath. Soon - very soon," he promised, his dark eyes glittering down at her. She was his in every way. His pet, his instrument, his executioner - oh so many things. Above all, she was simply his, and he knew what pleased her the most. He was going to reward her, but he wanted to draw it out just a little longer. "Your choice of weapon for disposing of Mutos's brother was extremely apt, my sweet. One could say inspired, even . . ." The dark god grinned as his hand now wandered over her breasts, held firmly in place by the leather body suit.
She would have pushed herself against his hand, but he was holding her too tightly against him. "Mmmm, it seemed fitting, seeing he was so fond of my breasts, that he should suffocate under them . . ." she muttered, deeply distracted. "My Lord – please . . ."
Ares’ tongue flicked out to trace a moist, leisurely line along the curve of her ear before answering. "Please . . . what?"
"Please . . ." her voice died off into a moan as the god pressed his hand even more insistently against her sex. One of Ares’ priests entered the Throne Room, but stopped abruptly when he heard the sounds coming from behind the column on the far side of the massive chamber. Comprehension dawned in his eyes, and he turned instantly on his heel and quietly left the chamber. He knew better than to disturb his Lord and the nameless woman who came and went from the temple like a shadow at Ares' bidding.
Ares grinned and released her. "Very well, my sweet, you shall have your reward. Go to your quarters and wait for me. I'll be there shortly," he told her before turning her and lowering his head to ravish her lips with his own. Raising his head, his eyes gave a wicked promise as he repeated, "Go!"
Sheath licked her swollen lips delicately and moved towards the door to the Throne Room. Ares watched her go, his member straining against the tight leather encasing it as he viewed her tall, firm body moving gracefully in its almost-complete leather confines. Oh yes, she was superb. He drew a deep breath in sublime satisfaction before turning his thoughts to Mutos. It was time to pay the doubtlessly grieving brigand a visit. Ares vanished in a shower of red flame.
Sheath walked the dark stone passageways of Ares' temple on her way to her chambers. She thought back over the last several days. She had carefully snared Voris, having passed herself off as a fatherless young girl from the Boeotian countryside in search of a brother who had gone off to war a year ago and had not returned. It had been oh so easy to attract Voris, and to pour out her "heart" to him. So easy, in fact, that Voris had almost been in tears himself by the time she had completed her tearful recounting of her sad and entirely counterfeit past. It had taken three nights before she showed herself willing to retire to his chamber at the back of the local inn. It hadn't taken nearly as long to hold him down and suffocate him with her ample breasts.
Had she felt even the slightest remorse at her cold-blooded, calculated act? No, none at all. Ares had ordered it, and so she had carried out the execution without a qualm. As she always did.
She turned a corner to find one of Ares' younger priests walking towards her. Upon seeing her, he immediately averted his eyes and hugged the opposite wall as they passed. Without exception, all Ares' servants knew better than to speak or acknowledge the tall, leather clad woman in any way at all. The God of War had made it clear, from the first day that she had come to his Temple, that no one was to speak to her or acknowledge her. If they did, their punishment would be extremely painful. She belonged to Ares and Ares alone and was to have nothing to do with any of the god's other servants.
She smiled again, as she entered her chambers and closed the door behind her quietly, even now not removing the hood. She couldn't. It was locked in place, and only Ares had the key. He would unlock it when he chose, which she knew he would at some point that evening. It never bothered her, though - she'd gotten used to wearing it, and it was like a second skin.
Moving around the bedchamber, she lit several candles before moving to the table and pouring herself some wine. She went to the window and gazed out at the night pensively for some time. It was late spring, and the slight night breeze brought the faintest hint of jasmine and roses from the Temple gardens.
Ares appeared, but didn't materialize fully. For several minutes he observed Sheath, unseen. She pleased him well, and had done since the first day of her training. Not for the first time, he wondered about her background. One day, he promised himself, he would investigate it. It was always an advantage to know everything there might be to know about one's servants. Still . . . For now it could wait. He materialized fully and moved to stand closer to her.
"Looking for your reward outside the Temple, my sweet? You know it's only to be found in here."
Sheath's eyes glittered, but she remained silent, waiting.
Ares jerked his head towards her bed, sending the silver dagger in his ear dancing. "You know what to do."
Still silent, Sheath moved to the bed and lay down, stretching her arms and legs out in a spread-eagled position, and waited.
The tall god took his time in walking towards the bed on which Sheath now lay. His boots made a slow, clipped sound in the chamber's silence. The only sounds to be heard was that, and the occasional hiss and splutter of a candle.
He stood over her, one massive, tanned arm crossed on his chest, while the other one stroked his bed contemplatively as he looked down at her.
"What shall it be tonight, my Sheath? How shall I reward you?" asked the God of War, his tone thoughtful.
Sheath said nothing, although her eyes sparkled expectantly up at him.
"Very well," Ares murmured, "if you don't have anything in mind, perhaps I should . . ."
The woman on the bed sat up slightly. "Perhaps you should!" she encouraged the god, her body already tingling at the knowledge of what was to come.
Ares grinned, a wolfish, wicked grin. "Indeed, my sweet. Indeed." He flicked his finger and Sheath found herself instantly bound spread-eagle to the bed in tight leather restraints. She was stretched taut in her bonds.
She grinned up at him. And waited.
"What do you wish of me, my Sheath?" Ares asked. He moved to kneel on the bed between her bound legs and slowly removed his vest to reveal his massive, hard chest to her avid gaze. Her eyes roamed almost feverishly over his exposed torso, and she licked her lips in anticipation.
"You. I wish nothing but you, Master," she answered with a sigh, her eyes wandering down his chest to the top of his leather pants.
The God of War nodded, just the once. "And you shall have me, but for now, I think there's something missing . . ." he said thoughtfully. A wave of his hand and Sheath found her view of Ares' godly form completely obscured by a thick leather blindfold. She was now completely covered in leather except for her nose and her mouth.
Ares exhaled long and deeply. She was a glorious sight. His shaft began seeking release from the restraint of his leather pants. For a long moment he simply looked upon her - his creation, essentially. One hand absently moved to rub the bulge in his pants and he sighed and swallowed. Ever so slowly he moved over her and lowered his head. His moist, seeking tongue flickered out and sought entrance to her mouth. Her lips immediately opened and welcomed him. Almost lazily, his tongue darted around, touching her tongue, only to withdraw and find another spot to tease and leave it wanting. His warm breath drifted into her mouth and she moaned beneath him, unable to do anything but accept what he gave her. Her tongue sought his and they came together in an almost primordial dance that precluded everything else.
Sheath tried desperately to move herself closer to the bulge pressing against her, but her restraints held her completely still. She sighed into his mouth, and then moaned again as he withdrew.
"Patience, my Sheath," came the soft murmur of Ares' beautiful voice from somewhere above her. In her confinement all she could do was be patient. She forced herself to lie still and wait. Something nudged against her lips, and she immediately opened her mouth wide, thinking it might be Ares' shaft. In seconds, Ares had pushed the thick nob that was attached to the wide gag strap into her mouth and secured the gag tightly behind her head. Her moan of frustration was muffled and almost inaudible behind the gag.
The God of War laughed softly. She was now completely enclosed in leather, except for the two small holes she was breathing through. For a moment the god contemplated his options. When he'd reached a decision, he grinned again as he passed his hand over the woman beneath him. The leather covering her sex vanished. A snap of his fingers later, and he himself was completely enclosed in leather, just as the woman beneath him was, complete with hood, blindfold and gag. Except for his fully aroused member, which was protruding through a hole in his pants.
Ares took some moments to savor the unfamiliar sensation of being completely enclosed in leather. He raised his gloved hands and ran them over his hooded head, and found the feeling somewhat enjoyable. He would have grinned, but the hard leather nob filling his mouth prevented that. He exhaled and immersed himself in the feelings he was experiencing. Sight deprivation somehow made his arousal all the more acute, and combined with the fact that all of him was covered, it made him all the more aware that he needed to find release, and soon. Still, even as he lowered himself and ran his hand along Sheath's thigh towards her sex with the ease born of long and intimate familiarity with her body, he was musing over the desire, almost need, of the woman beneath him, for such an experience.
His gloved and seeking fingers were delicately touching the folds of her labia to expose the opening to her sex, and then slowly moving inside her as one part of his mind continued to muse. Perhaps it was because of the power that she wielded in such a subversive way in the world outside the temple, where she was yet to encounter any man who came even close to being her equal. Being completely enclosed in leather and in tight restraints may have been one way for her to experience something that she might otherwise have not been able to enjoy - the sense of being mastered by one man.
Ares grunted against his gag as his fingers moved in and out of her sopping wet passageway. And who better to master her than . . . her Master. He snorted - a low, guttural sound that didn't escape the gag.
His now-throbbing and aching member interrupted his thoughts and he withdrew his fingers and moved over Sheath, preparing to enter her. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn't an entirely bad idea to experience Sheath's predilection for enclosure and restraint in leather for himself more often.
And then all conscious thought left him as pure animal instinct took over.
Beneath him, Sheath tried desperately to move in her bonds, so that she could push her raised sex closer to Ares' shaft. It was useless and she moaned into her gag in muffled frustration. The feeling of his leather-covered fingers in her earlier had driven her almost to the brink of endurance, and left her sopping wet, her whole body on fire for him. Sometimes Ares donned leather gloves, knowing how much she enjoyed the sensation of him touching her while wearing them. Then, when she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, she felt the hard warmth of his member slide into her and she exhaled in something that was almost relief, except that her body was now craving the release that only her god could give her.
Slowly Ares began to slide in and out of her. She groaned. The feeling of his member rubbing against her dark, wet cavern was unbearably erotic, especially when all her other senses were dulled. Her gloved fingers splayed out convulsively in sexual tension. Her body began to coil ever tighter, moving towards an explosive release.
But Ares suddenly withdrew.
Sheath screamed a guttural scream into her gag, her fingers balling into fists of sheer frustration.
Again and again, the God of War took her to the edge of release, only to withdraw at the last moment. He was thoroughly savoring the whole experience, and for all that it was costing him in delaying, he was enjoying the feeling of the ever-building tension in the woman beneath him. But there came a time when his own body demanded release. He began pounding into her - harder and harder. Faster and faster. As if from a distance he could hear the muffled screams coming from Sheath who could do nothing but lay still beneath him and let him do whatever he wanted to do. Then he exploded. In one savage thrust, he expelled his seed into her. Beneath him, she was right behind him in reaching her own completion. Her pleasure boiled over and erupted in one massive, brilliant burst of ecstasy. Her cavern throbbed convulsively around Ares' shaft, gripping him so tightly that he immediately grew hard again.
Ah yes, there were many advantages in being a god . . .
Ares subsided onto Sheath's prone body, still hard within her. A brief thought caused the leather covering the god to vanish so that he was now naked, and still joined to Sheath. He stretched his jaw, unused to being gagged, and cleared his throat. "My, my . . . That was very . . . interesting. We'll have to do it again, my Sheath," he murmured looking down at his servant with almost-black eyes that betrayed nothing but feral desire now. It had been interesting - and useful, for all that Sheath had been unaware of his exploration of what might be considered her one weakness. He thrust once, almost tentatively, and stopped, and watched her stiffen, her gloved fingers working almost convulsively. His tongue slid out between his teeth as he considered Sheath's form. "But for now . . ."
He grunted and began moving within her again, his powerful, muscular arms bulging as they supported him as he thrust into her, now moving hard and fast. His dark eyes glittered like molten chocolate as he felt her muscles clenching tightly around him. He began to thrust harder and faster into her, his eyes closing now with the pure pleasure that only the act of sex and the letting of blood in battle could give him. This time, Sheath exploded first, her body, for all that it was restrained so tightly, convulsing around his shaft. Almost before her spasms had begun to die down, Ares came, once more pumping her full of his hot come. He collapsed to lie on top of her, gulping in air.
A wave of his hand, and an instant later, Sheath lay unbound, naked and revealed beneath him. Her own dark eyes gazed up at her Lord. Ares smiled, enjoying the sight of her. She was a rare beauty - but then, beauty had always been very important to Ares. Her long raven hair lay around her in thick profusion; not the slightest flattened by the hood that she had worn for so many hours.
Her generous mouth opened and she smiled lazily up at him. He rolled off her and she stretched slowly and languorously, much like a contented kitten. Ares ran the knuckles of one hand lightly down the side of her face. "It doesn't take much to please you, does it?"
Sheath laughed softly, turning to face him, and leaning on one elbow. "Perhaps I'm easily pleased, then," she allowed. "Does that disappoint you, my Lord?" Knowing, intelligent eyes looked Ares directly in the eye.
"No, you don't disappoint me, my dear. You'll know if you ever disappoint me," he told her matter-of-factly, almost absently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I've always found you rather . . ." he hesitated, searching for the right word. ". . . intriguing," he told her with a wicked grin.
"Where you're concerned, my Lord, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Sheath retorted, running a long fingernail lightly down the god's perfect, massive hard chest.
Ares laughed silently and took her finger in his hand. He raised it to his mouth, his tongue flicked out to lick the finger, then he took it into his mouth and sucked lightly on it.
Sheath at once felt her juices begin to flow again. Where Ares was concerned, it didn't take much.
"Oh it's a good thing, trust me," he assured her, with a wolfish grin that would have instantly terrified anyone else. Sheath merely smiled.
"Will you be sending me out again soon?" she asked. She became restless if left to her own devices in the Temple for too long. Out there, in the wider world, she always enjoyed pushing her skills to the limit. Most of the time she enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and especially enjoyed the shocked surprise in the dying eyes of her quarry as she killed them.
Ares hesitated, turning over in his mind the identity of those who would be her latest prey.
At length, he released her finger and moved to sit her across him, so that she was on top, and straddling him. "As it happens, yes, my pet. I want you to leave in the morning. I've arranged for you to be taken into the Household of Algis, the King of Miletus. You will be governess to his three children." He paused before raising his head to lock her eyes with his. "Algis has been making overtures to the King of Colchis for a formal alliance against the Spartans, who are, of course, loyal to me." The God of War smiled slightly, coldly, before he completed what he was saying. "I can't tell you how much that displeases me, my Sheath - and I want you to destroy his children, one by one. I'm sure he'll come to his senses once he realizes how . . . annoyed I am."
Sheath neither moved nor said anything at first, remaining frozen in position. Almost absently she lowered herself onto Ares aroused shaft, giving herself over to the feelings filling her. She closed her eyes and began to move up and down on him. "As you will, Master," she murmured, betraying nothing.
But for the first time in her time with Ares, something was growing within her. A small voice that wept and pleaded for mercy against the horror that threatened. Savagely, Sheath silenced the voice and began moving more frantically over Ares.
Yet, later that night, after Ares had left her and she lay alone in her bed, Sheath stared sightlessly and moodily out the window into the dark night.
A solitary tear escaped and rolled down her face.
To be continued!