Son Of Sleep Ch 01

Hypnos, god of sleep, frequently heard that he looked nothing like anyone expected. His chiseled jaw and lean musculature made him look like a cover model, and when he went shirtless his washboard abs and taut waistline dropped jaws and panties with equal frequency.

The god assumed the notion was that he would be tired, slow and frumpy, but never bought into the stereotype. It was all because of the newly-minted human idea that sleep was a demonstration of laziness and lethargy. Too many people were confusing sleep with sloth, even though slothfulness had its own goddess — Aergia. Hypnos sometimes wondered whether Aergia was encouraging the rumors, trying to get him to do her job, too. It would be just like her.

Still, he would never stop promoting adequate rest to the weary. "Proper sleep is vital to a satisfying life," he often declared. "And I never sleep better than after a proper day of business and a great workout." And after great sex, of course.

Speaking of great sex...

Hypnos ran his fingers through the hair of his partner and she sighed with pleasure.

Antheia was a beautiful catch, one of the handmaidens of Aphrodite and a flower the god had had his eye on for some time. Her golden hair was tangled around his hands as his cock slid between her full lips. Her eyes were glazed, not only with pleasure but as a result of Hypnos' unique power.

The god grunted as he began to fuck her face, Antheia's throat relaxing as she allowed all of him to slide into her hot, willing mouth. His hands gripped her by the back of the head and he used the leverage to move quicker, his hips thrusting powerfully as he took his pleasure from her body.

A mortal might not have been able to handle his furious rhythm, but the goddess swallowed him whole with enthusiasm, her hands buried between her parted knees and her fingers desperately thrusting in and out of her dripping pussy.

"You're mine," he growled, his cock throbbing with pent up desire.

The goddess moaned a reply, unintelligible as his pounding rod hit the back of her throat and she shivered in bliss. Her eyes stared blankly up into his, empty of will but full of lust and devotion.

Hypnos grinned fiercely, feeling the need for release building up in his body but clamping down on it.

"Even deeper now..." His words, laced with power, drew the goddess further into the trance — mindless, obedient and wanton. Just how he liked them. He suddenly pulled back, his cock wet and glistening from her mouth. Without a word, he gripped the goddess by the waist and flipped her around onto his bed.

She landed gracefully on her hands and knees, looking back over her shoulder at him as he knelt between her feet and lined up with her smoldering entrance.

"Your mind is mine..." The god's voice was soothing and seductive. He slid inside of her slowly, parting her folds with his length as his hands pulled her blonde hair aside.

"My mind is yours..." Antheia gasped softly, her lips parting as her eyes continued to burn into his, unable to look away.

"Your body is mine..." Hypnos grunted as her back arched and her hot tunnel tightened around him, a shiver running through her.

"My body is yours..." the goddess whispered, her eyelids fluttering over her starlit blue eyes at the sensations coursing through her immortal body.

"Your mouth is mine..." He bottomed out inside of her, the tip of his cock stretching her eternally tight womb.

"My mouth is yours..."

"Your tits are mine..." Hypnos pulled back and began to speed up, the virginal tightness of Antheia's pussy irresistable.

"My tits are yours..." Her voice was a moan as his pace increased, her full breasts bouncing with every slap of his hips against her ass.

"Your pussy is mine..." The god gripped her tightly and fucked her like she was nothing more than a toy for his enjoyment. His fingers dug into her ass as he massaged her lithe body, taking pleasure in every curve of her form.

"Your ass is mine..."

"My ass," she panted, stumbling over her words as she grew closer to release, "is yours..."

"You are mine...

"

"

I am yours!

" The goddess came, her orgasm sparking through her body like an electric shock. Her muscles clenched and released spasmodically, her pussy massaging her partner's cock and begging him to fall over the edge into bliss.

With a gasp, Hypnos joined her, his seed blasting out into her womb in strand after strand of hot, sticky cum. His head fell back and he let out a long sigh of pleasure, his own muscles relaxing one by one. He filled her to bursting before he withdrew, her body begging him to stay even as he slid slowly from her slumped, satisfied figure.

"Sleep well, darling," the god murmured, kissing her smooth back before relaxing supine on the massive bed. He settled his hands behind his head and smiled up into the darkness.

We will have plenty more fun when you awaken...

* * *

My eighteenth birthday was not a day to forget, I knew that even before lunchtime. My locker had been duct taped closed and a note with the scrawled words 'Suck it, perv' had been stuck there for all to see.

I kept my head down as I used a pair of scissors from a nearby classroom to hack away enough of the tape to let me open the locker and stuff my lunch and a couple textbooks inside. I crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash.

It was no secret that I was the black sheep of the graduating senior class. For whatever reason, no matter how hard I tried to fit in, there was something about me that rubbed people the wrong way. I could probably have gone to the principal, but why bother? She had made it clear she reviled me as much as anyone.

If there is anything worse than having your birthday fall on a Monday, it's having your birthday fall on a Monday after you've been suspended for a week while your school 'investigates claims of inappropriate sexual behavior.'

Did it matter that I hadn't done anything?

No. All that mattered was someone got blamed.

I had a couple minutes before the bell rang and summoned me to my first class of the day, and all I wanted was to shrink into a dark corner with some music until then. Pulling my hood up over my head, I pushed outside and slouched back against the cool brick. Closing my eyes, I tried to push the world away.

Of course, the world pushed right back.

"Hey, you!" My eyes snapped open and flicked from side to side, trying to identify the threat. My shoulders slumped in relief when I recognized the girl who strode confidently across the lawn toward me. I didn't have the energy to deal with my enemies right now, and barely enough to deal with my best, and probably only, friend.

Still, things could definitely have been worse. Paige was a sight for sore eyes, her blonde hair cut short and teased up into a fashionable mess, her dark blue eyes piercing and glittering with energy. She wore an outfit that danced on the edge of the school's dress code, a black crop top that exposed her toned midriff and glittering belly button piercing and a skirt just a bit too long to be called 'slutty' but short enough to be described as 'scandalous.'

I managed to summon up a hint of a smile as I pulled the earbuds from my ears. "Hey," I said, feeling the usual fluttering of nervous energy in my stomach as I forced myself not to admire her slim physique. Paige was the only ally I had, and after two years I knew better than to think that our relationship would ever progress beyond friendship. She had turned 18 several months ago, and we had been planning on doing something for my birthday before I had been suspended.

I could tell Paige was bursting to catch up after our week apart, but just at that moment the bell rang.

Fuck...

I thought.

Time for it to begin.

English Literature, usually not a bad class, was bound to be full of sideways stares, whispered comments and simmering judgement.

"I can't believe someone would set you up like that..." Paige hissed, hurrying to keep up with me as I shouldered my backpack and joined the river of students flowing into a nearby building.

I grimaced and shrugged. "Obviously it's not that unbelievable. The administration certainly bought it."

"Playing

porn

on the projector during a school assembly?!" My best friend sounded incensed at the unfairness of it all. "And they pin it on you why? Because you're smart and unpopular?"

I scowled. "Whoever did it signed into the school system using my unique ID. And the school

has

been using me as their go-to IT guy for the past three years." Even I had to admit, I looked guilty. I just had no idea who would want me in trouble — it made no sense. I was a nobody, not worth a glance or a passing conversation. And certainly not worth an elaborate setup.

"It wasn't even

good

porn," Paige muttered, irritated.

I felt a tug of interest as we sat down at a table next to each other and plopped our copies of

Dracula

onto the wood, wondering what Paige considered 'good porn.' In our years of friendship, the closest we got to sex was talking about her flings with various guys in our class, but at least it was something.

Focus, Alex,

I ordered myself.

Survive today and you can fantasize about Paige later.

Mr. O'Connor hadn't yet arrived, so I was just flipping open the book to skim a few pages and pretend I'd done the reading when something hit me in the back of the head. It wasn't hard or heavy enough to do any damage, but I jerked upright, my chair screeching loudly on the linoleum floor and drawing the attention of all 30 students in the room.

Looking down, I saw a crumpled, mostly-empty yogurt container on the floor, pink strawberry gunk sluggishly pooling on the peeling tile. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the culprit.

It was Jared Butler, the school playboy, football captain and star in every play since he'd arrived freshman year. According to most guys he was the epitome of cool, and according to most girls he was the hottest thing since Chris Hemsworth. Even Paige, to my chagrin, had admitted she was into him.

Oh, and he was also one of my prime tormentors.

"Sorry, dude," he grinned, leaning his chair back on two legs and running a hand through his blonde crew cut hair while several of his cronies sniggered in the seats around him. "I was aiming for the trash."

The trash was a good ten feet to my left, an easy target for the varsity quarterback, and I gritted my teeth in frustration. I tried to think of a retort, but my mind had gone blank and all I could feel was the fear and discomfort of everyone's eyes on me.

"Alexander!" a voice snapped from the doorway. Mr. O'Connor was one of the only people who used my full name. The tall, prim English teacher did it with everyone. "Clean your trash up off the floor and let us all get back to work without more of your antics."

I wanted to say something, to stand up for myself, but instead I just swallowed as dark, cold shame burned my cheeks and roiled in my stomach. Wordlessly, I picked up the yogurt and shuffled over with hunched shoulders to dump it in the trash. It was a dozen feet each way but it felt like miles, and I knew everyone was watching.

"Sorry, Mr. O'Connor," I muttered.

The teacher, who used to be there with a kind word or encouraging smile when I had seemed in a particularly glum mood, sniffed indignantly like I was now just a distraction hardly worth his notice.

And so it begins,

I thought, as I trudged back to my chair.

The big one-eight. Happy Birthday to me...

* * *

One of the god's mortal attendants was waiting for Hypnos when he emerged from his morning shower. He slipped out of his bedroom, leaving Antheia where she was — passed out in a blissful slumber on his mattress, tangled in the sheets from their late, passionate night.

"One of your children reaches manhood today," the woman —

Mariah?

He tried to remember her name, but the mortals passed through so quickly — told him, unable to stop herself from tracing her eyes down his muscular, nude figure to rest between his legs. She wore her brunette hair pulled back in a professional ponytail and a tailored gray suit that was far more formal than what the god of sleep usually required of his team. Most of them simply wore their pajamas to work.

Hypnos had never gotten used to the modern idea of clothing, though he supposed if it would help the woman focus...

He snapped his fingers and a snug pair of designer boxer briefs encased him from thigh to hip. Then he sighed and ran his hand up his face, tangling it in his dark, curling hair. "I suppose you want me to give him a gift, then?"

Blast it

, the god thought.

Another one? This is why I swore off having children.

"It

is

traditional," Mariah sniffed, eyes flicking to her clipboard and then to his face.

"I've been taking care of his mother, haven't I?" Hypnos grumbled. He assumed he had, as his assistants had strict instructions to look after the needs of his infrequent human offspring. "Shouldn't that be enough?"

Mariah just narrowed her eyes and gave him a look.

"Oh, fine..." Hypnos was feeling too relaxed to argue.

"A note would also be nice," Mariah prompted.

Hypnos took a deep, irritated breath and looked at the woman. He considered her for a brief moment, wondering how to react to this bossy mortal. Then a slow, indulgent smile drifted across his lips. "Since you asked so nicely..." he murmured.

The woman gestured toward the kitchen counter where she had already laid out stationary and a pen, expecting his capitulation.

Hypnos snorted out a laugh and sauntered over, sitting down and cracking his knuckles in preparation. He needed more people in his employ who were willing to push his buttons. It wouldn't do to get lazy, after all. A good night's sleep must be earned every day, and he wouldn't earn anything surrounded by a bunch of fawning servants.

But now to the matter at hand...

The god scowled thoughtfully at the blank sheet before him.

What does an immortal father write to a son he's never met?

No matter how many times he had to do this, and it was surprisingly few compared to some of the more lustful Olympians, Hypnos felt hard-pressed to come up with the right words.

He looked out the window, the eternally twilit sky and the clouds below the only reminder that his home was not an ordinary penthouse atop a skyscraper. It was, rather, a lonely villa floating somewhere In Between, where Day and Night met and the Lethe, the River of Forgetfulness, could glitter enticingly as it flowed between the clouds.

"What is the boy's name?" Hypnos asked Mariah after a moment of reflection.

"Alexander," the woman replied, not needing to check her documents. "And his mother's name is—"

"I remember," Hypnos interrupted her, a momentary expression of sadness flashing across his face. He took a deep breath.

So... Celeste's son is finally a man...

With a sigh, the god of sleep bent over the creamy stationary and began to write.

* * *

I closed the front door quietly, hoping I could escape to my upstairs bedroom before I was noticed. Of course, with today's luck, I wasn't so fortunate.

"Alex?" my mom's voice came sweetly from the kitchen. "That you, baby?"

I sighed and tried not to scowl. I hated when she used those terms of endearment. It was weird enough that a couple of my friends had big sisters older than my mom, who had gotten pregnant with me at 18, but when she called me honey, baby, sugar... It felt

wrong.

"Yep!" I called back anyway, trying to keep a positive note of enthusiasm in my voice.

Please just let me be alone...

I begged silently, but in the next moment my mom appeared in the entrance to the kitchen.

Paige had told me on multiple occasions that if she had been bi she would have fucked my mom in a heartbeat, and I had to admit (grudgingly) that my mom was hot. Not just hot, honestly, but stunning. She ran some sort of online blog fitness business that I didn't understand, but it kept her in extremely good shape — at 36 she could have passed for a woman in her mid-twenties. Add to that her perfect makeup and she had gotten her carded on multiple occasions buying a bottle of wine at the supermarket. Her wavy, dirty blonde hair fell down to the small of her back and her yoga pants hugged legs that were more athletic than slim and an ass that —

I cut off my internal appraisal.

That's your mom,

I scolded.

What the fuck, man?

"How was school?" My mom's voice was cheerful and her expression bright and hopeful. "Things back to normal?"

She hadn't questioned my week-long suspension beyond the basics, for which I had been grateful, but for once I wished she cared enough to commiserate. I forced a smile. "Back to normal," I agreed, remembering my locker and Jared's taunting smirk.

Everything is picking up right where it left off...

I escaped upstairs, closing the door to my bedroom and dropping my backpack to the floor. I was walking to my bed to slump bonelessly onto the mattress when I noticed something strange. There was a creamy white envelope on my pillow that had definitely not been there when I'd made my bed this morning. I wondered if mom had put it there, but it didn't look like her handwriting.

The flowing cursive script said just one word —

Alexander.

That clinched it. Mom never called me Alexander. Just Alex. Plain, boring Alex.

Furrowing my brow, I picked it up. I turned it over, trying to figure out who had sent it, but there was no return address. There wasn't

any

address, which made me wonder how the letter had gotten to me in the first place. As I carefully tore open the paper, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. It wasn't nervousness or fear, but an unidentifiable energy coiled in my stomach and tingled down my spine.

The paper inside the envelope felt strangely heavy in my hands as I unfolded the three creases.

Dear Alexander,

Almost two decades from your conception, and this is the first time you are hearing from me.

As I read on, my heart lurched in my chest and I had to stop several times. The words scrambled together in my mind, spinning round and around until I felt dizzy with them.

This is your father... I hope you enjoy this gift... No need to mention this to your mother...

But there was no gift. The envelope was empty, and all I was left with was the strange tingling sensation in my gut that was probably my lunch threatening to escape.

Mom had never spoke about my father. Despite my hints, outright questions and begging throughout the years she had remained frustratingly silent. And now, after all this time... I wanted to tear the letter to pieces but instead I folded it carefully back up and returned it to the envelope. I slipped the envelope under my pillow and flopped onto my neatly folded comforter.

What the fuck is going on...?

I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I woke up, my thoughts unusually fuzzy. I shook my head groggily and checked my phone, jolting upright in surprise when I realized what time it was. I'd been asleep almost three hours!

Still

, I settled down somewhat,

it's not like I have anything to do.

School had always been easy for me, and I was miles ahead in all of my classes. My mind wandered back through my day, halting at the image of Paige.

Fuck...

I thought, my skin prickling as my body reacted to the image. Her smooth skin, chaotic blonde hair, red lips and dark eyes... Instead of stopping myself, I let my hands begin to undo my belt and slide my pants down to my knees. My stiffening cock throbbed hungrily as I closed my eyes and let a familiar scene wash over me.