* * * * *
Copyright Oggbashan February 2006. The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
* * * * *
Heracles, in a fit of madness, had killed his friend. When the Delphic Sibyl refused to tell him how he could redeem himself, he wrecked Apollo's shrine, finally fighting with Apollo himself until Zeus stopped the fight.
For these crimes he was sentenced to spend three years as a slave. Until he had served his punishment he could not live with the Greeks. Hermes sold him to the Lydian Queen Omphale.
Hera, always antagonistic towards Zeus' children by other Goddesses and mortal women, added her own twists to Heracles' punishment. Heracles was proud of his strength. Although he had a succession of male lovers as well as numerous women, there was no way that Heracles could be considered effeminate.
Hera decided to take away his strength while he was with Omphale. She insisted that Heracles should be dressed as a woman and let him have only half the strength of Ompale's weakest maid while at Omphale's palace. Hera dripped suggestions into Omphale's ear on ways to humiliate Heracles. Omphale was only too willing to amuse herself with the dangerous sport of teasing a demigod. Hera gave Omphale the power to issue orders to Heracles that he could not disobey if he wanted to expiate the crimes he had committed.
Although Heracles would be weak while at Omphale's court, from time to time he would be expected to rid the world of ferocious monsters. Hera gave Omphale the power to return Heracles' strength for the duration of required tasks. After the task had been completed Heracles had to revert to the indignity of a weak feminised slave. His short times of remission from his sentence would make his renewed humiliation more galling, yet he would not dare to rebel...
Heracles could regain his strength at any time by leaving the precincts of Omphale's palace but he could only redeem his crime by staying within the palace unless his absence was ordered or permitted by Omphale.
Hera insisted that Omphale should display the humiliated Heracles whenever important visitors came to the palace. On those occasions Hera ordered that Heracles should be dressed as a woman, placed in a prominent position at the foot of Omphale's throne and should spin flax, a feminine activity. Hera added that Omphale should wear Heracles' lion skin as a sign of her domination and his submission. At other times his lion skin and club were to be on display in the throne room.
The difference between Heracles normal strength and that he had left when inside Omphale's palace was such that he had great difficulty moving his muscular body at all. He had to be assisted to his lowly position by the throne, and helped to stand and walk away after the audience had ended.
In the kitchens, his normal place as a slave, he could only do basic tasks such as preparing vegetables if he was sitting down. He could move slowly around the kitchen with difficulty but the other kitchen servants preferred to have Heracles seated. Then he wasn't in their way.
One of Omphale's servant women, Malis, was given the responsibility of managing Heracles whenever he wasn't away ridding the world of dangerous animals or on display in Omphale's throne room.
Omphale could and did tease Heracles. She had Hera's backing for any indignity that she could devise. Malis had no support from anyone. She knew that Heracles' punishment was time limited. Once he had atoned for his crime, his strength would return. He might punish anyone who had mistreated him, so Malis behaved very, very carefully.
Malis had arranged for a room close to the kitchen, formerly a storeroom, to be Heracles' bedchamber. Each night she and several other servant women would help Heracles to undress and put him into bed. His sun-tanned bottom was a source of amusement. One of Heracles' other names was 'Black Bottom' because his buttocks were darkened by constant exposure to the Greek sun.
The next morning Heracles would have to be helped out of bed, washed and shaved before being dressed as a female servant, and assisted to the kitchen. Malis felt that she and her fellow women were being punished. Heracles' help wasn't worth the attentions he needed.
However, Hera hadn't considered that Omphale, a mortal, might have different ideas about using Heracles. Omphale was not Greek and was considered a barbarian by the Greeks and the Greek Gods. Hera had intended that as an additional humiliation for Heracles, to be housed in a barbarian court where Greek civilisation and its comforts were unknown.
Omphale had been encouraged by Hermes to buy Heracles as her slave. Hera's intention was that Omphale would abuse Heracles. Omphale intended to use Heracles, not abuse him. She wanted children by him, many children so that she would have their strength to protect her dominion and establish a line of rulers that the Greeks would have difficulty challenging.
Despite his weakness, Heracles was still a man. He had the necessary apparatus in a very large scale and would respond to the women helping him in and out of bed. Malis and the other women could and did fondle his tool and rub themselves against Heracles' body. Malis, or one or more of the other women, might share Heracles' bed at night.
One night Malis, prompted by Omphale, decided to stay with Heracles...
Malis shrugged off her flimsy nightwear, slid her naked body under the bedclothes and snuggled against Heracles' broad back.
"Heracles?"
"Yes, Malis. What is it? I need sleep. I am tired from a day of hauling this massive body around with pathetic muscles."
"I know that your manhood works. Could it work in me? Please?"
Heracles heaved his body over to look at her.
"Are you sure? My sons have not been fortunate. A daughter might curse me and you for producing a massive unfeminine monster."
"You are a hero, a demi-god. What other way can I have of producing a child that has a chance of fame? I may be in charge of servants but all I am is another servant. If I were to become the mother of one of Heracles' children, my line would never be servants again."
Malis kissed Heracles on the lips. She loosened her hair and stroked across his torso, teasing his nipples with her hair's softness. Heracles groaned.
"I can do nothing, Malis. I could not support myself above you and my weight would crush you if you slid underneath. You will have to ride."
"I will! Thank you!"
Heracles rolled to his back and lay there panting from the effort. Malis straddled his chest. Her black curly bush was inches from his face. She bent forward and rubbed her bush over his mouth. Heracles moaned. His tongue licked and probed. Malis shuddered as his tongue slid between her lower lips.
She felt his organ grow and brush against her legs. She looked down and gasped. Heracles was well endowed, very well endowed. What the women had achieved before hadn't given a hint of the enormous size that Heracles would be when fully erect.
Malis shuddered at the thought of trying to impale herself on that. She might just as well think of riding a temple pillar. Perhaps just the tip? That might be possible. She slid down his body and positioned herself carefully.
Then she lowered herself slowly and gently.
Heracles felt the warmth of her pussy sliding over his tip. He groaned and laboured to lift his hips towards her. A massive arm draped across her back and its weight forced her down.
Malis screamed as her legs were splayed apart. Only the first couple of inches had penetrated yet that was enough to cause her extreme pain from the width ripping her asunder. Heracles pulsed into her. Blood and semen ran down her legs as she squirmed to get away from the monster she had woken. Heracles slumped back and Malis wrenched herself free.
Sobbing bitterly, she covered Heracles recumbent body. Who was she to attempt to couple with a Hero, a near demi-god? She would feel the pain for weeks and would any normal man be able to satisfy her again?
The next day Malis, limping, reported her success and failure to Omphale.
"He is that large?" Omphale asked again.
"Too large for me," Malis wept.
"But I am larger than you."
"Even so, my queen, I fear that you too would suffer injury from Heracles. Send someone else to try before risking yourself, please."
"That is a sensible suggestion. Who is the largest of your women?"
"Arisbe. She is partly descended from the barbarian tribes in the cold Northern lands. She stands a full foot taller than I."
"Would she?"
"If I hadn't insisted on my status as the head of the kitchen, she would have done so already."
"Then, Malis, our way is clear. Tell Arisbe that she has our permission and blessing in exchange for a report afterwards."
"I will, my queen. I will bring her tomorrow to tell you what has happened."
