In the Chains of Omphale

Prologue

Heracles walked through the Greek countryside, humming to himself. The hot Mediterranean sun blazed above his head, but the hero kept walking calmly, without so much as a drop of sweat on his forehead. He carried his club in his right hand, a great, one and a half meter long weapon. He wore a short tunic, made of wool, and sandals. And above this, draped over his back, with its jaws framing his face, the pelt of the Nemean Lion, that golden, indestructible skin which Heracles had obtained by slaying the beast. Its front paws were tied before his neck, holding the pelt, while the rest of it fell down his back like a golden cape.

By a rope he dragged the body of the giant Cacus, the three-headed shepherd who terrorized the countryside through massacres and rapes. The citizens of Naupactus would be beyond themselves with gratefulness and joy.

It had not been very difficult to kill Cacus. Heracles had worn the wool of a sheep, as he had known the monster had a poor eyesight. Subtly, silently, Heracles had approached him his sword in his mouth and his club hugged close to his body. When the giant had reached down to pet the seemingly harmless sheep, Heracles jumped out, cut the monster's hand off, and drove his blade into his stomach. He had then broken his knees with his club, and the creature fell, completely taken by surprise. A single blow to each of his heads had finished Cacus.

Heracles was a young man, having turned 18 a mere week ago. He was tall, measuring little less than 2 meters. His white skin was slightly tanned, and his hair was light brown. He had green eyes, an alluring face which was shaved clean and a perfectly toned body.

A flock of birds flew past, over the hills and into the distance. Heracles couldn't wait to arrive at Naupactus, not because of glory or tributes, which were sure to come, but to see Megara, beautiful, sweet Megara, his wife. She would be waiting for him, to welcome the hero with the rest of the city. They would make the sacrifices to Zeus, and to Athena, and a feast would ensue, courtesy of the locals. They would then retire to the solitude of their chambers, to make love, enjoying one another till the break of dawn.

He smiled to himself, and fastened the pace, anxious to get there.

In less than three minutes he had jogged the 10 kilometers that separated him from Naupactus.

From the city walls, a cloud of dust could be seen approaching rapidly.

-It's Heracles! – shouted a sentinel – Heracles is back with the monster Cacus!

Soon, the entire population of Naupactus rushed to the gates, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mighty and revered hero. Shouts and cheers carried throughout the countryside. In a few minutes, the whole coastal city was alive with celebrations and reverie.

***

Hera, Queen of the Gods, frowned upon her throne, angered, her heart blazing with fury. As hard as she tried, she couldn't seem to vanquish the great Heracles. She had done everything she could think of. The Hydra, the Nemean Lion, which he had so mockingly skinned and donned as armor, cyclopes, tribes of murderous centaurs, sea monsters... he managed to slay them all, singlehandedly, as if it was some sort of game or sport. Hera's rage boiled stronger and stronger each time, and her desire for revenge was so overwhelming she felt she would explode if she didn't satisfy it. Her fist came down hard on her throne's arm, causing an earthquake in southern Italy.

From where she sat, she could see Heracles, and his wife, that little slut Megara, hugging him, and kissing him at the banquet in Naupactus. They were feasting in the city's agora, in front of the temple of Zeus. Megara, the petty little wench. He seemed so happy when he was with the slut...

Hera smiled. She had suddenly been stricken with an idea. One that seemed so far much, much better than all of her monsters and curses combined.

With a devilish grin on her lips, great Hera descended down to Earth, to Naupactus, taking a human form. Suddenly, there she was, in the midst of the celebrations, surrounded by worthless mortals, drinking and laughing and dancing around the agora. She had taken the body of a young, pretty woman, with blue eyes and dark hair, wearing a light dress which subtly revealed her feminine curves. She had a jar of wine in her hands. Lightly, she walked over to the table were Heracles dined, his strong arm around Megara's waist. Hera had to give it to the slut. She was pretty. She had blond hair, round honey eyes, a soft, innocent-looking face with rosy lips. She was Heracles's age, and they had just been married for a month. Hera had tried to stop the wedding by sending a giant hawk to abduct Megara, but Heracles had simply felled the bird with a stone to the head.

-More wine noble sirs? – asked Hera in an irresistible, melodic voice.

The couple nodded, smiling. Hera poured their cups full, all the while smiling and flashing her eyelashes. They drank.

During the whole night, there Hera was, smiling and giggling, filling their cups. Each time she asked if she could pour them more, they found themselves unable to resist the beautiful woman's harmonious voice. Megara fell drunk first, being only a mortal, and a woman at that. But the half-divine Heracles took a whole lot longer. None of them noticed the fact the woman's jar never ran out of wine, as Hera pleaded Heracles to let her serve him some more. He smiled, growing steadily drunker.

At last, as the party died down, the sacrifices having been made to Zeus Keraunophoros, the inhabitants of Naupactus retired to their beds.

It was late at night, past midnight, when Heracles, now fully drunk thanks to Hera's intervention, finally arose, after some failed attempts, from his seat, taking Megara's hand.

-Oh sirs, you do not look well. Here, let me help you – said Hera.

Heracles mumbled something, and nodded. Hera then led them, by hand, across the agora. Her plan was going on perfectly, just as she had hoped. Now came stage two.

Heracles and Megara were unaware that they were being led to the Temple of Ares. Hera took them inside, and left. Smiling, the Queen of the Gods returned to Mount Olympus, where the gods were sleeping. Through the clouds, Hera gazed down to Earth, as the second part of her plan developed.

Heracles laid Megara down over the altar, and proceeded to remove his clothes. He was then nude, his perfectly shaped body completely revealed to his wife. He had a few, light colored abdominal hairs at his navel, and hard, round nipples which Megara loved to play with. His penis was huge, larger than any man's, measuring 8 inches long and 2 inches in width.

He unhooked Megara's dress at the shoulder, pulling it down and throwing it to the floor. Both were full of lust, anxious to make love, overwhelmed by the wine.

Megara twisted over the cold altar, moaning, as her hands rubbed her body, slowly, drawing circles around her navel, teasing her nipples. Her white skin was beautiful, unblemished and pure. Her breasts were large, rounded and desirable, and her hips flared deliciously. Her ass was plump, marvelously so. Heracles felt his desire consuming him, and with a half-animal snarl, he threw himself down on his wife, penetrating her with his powerful penis.

-Ah! Ah! – screamed Megara, not of pain, but of pleasure, feeling his thick member invading her soft interior. Her lips stretched to accommodate the huge penis, as Heracles rammed it down harder each time, deeper into her wife. Her delicate hands were on his chest, pressed against it. Megara moaned. The sensations below her navel were driving her crazy. She felt surges of pleasure erupting from between her legs, flooding her belly, expanding into her whole body. She kissed him on the lips, a long, passionate kiss in which their tongues danced with one another. Heracles had both hands on the altar, on the side of her head. She ran hers down over his back, clenching against his skin with every thrust of her husband. She could feel his chest rubbing against her large breasts, raising the wonderful feeling that was taking over her body and soul.

Then, she felt a violent peak, her pleasure towering higher and higher, and she screamed her lungs out as the gigantic wave of her orgasm hit her. As she climaxed, her lips tensed, closing around Heracles's penis, clenching it, driving him mad with pleasure. It went on for the whole night. Megara wasn't able to keep track of all the seemingly endless orgasm she had.

-Heracles! I love you! Ah! Oh! I lo-love you! - she exclaimed.

It seemed like Heracles's lust was infinite. Megara was beside herself, lost in the throes of her love. Finally, with one last, superhuman thrust which broke the stone altar in half, Heracles came, spilling his thick, hot seed into his woman's moisture. Megara's eyes rolled in their sockets, and she spilled tears of joy as her last orgasm of the night shook her like an earthquake.

All of this, Hera watched, dauntless and malignant. She couldn't remember having been happier in her entire immortal existence. It was done. The crime of desecrating the Temple of Ares had been committed. Now came the final stage of her revenge.