Medusa's Epilogue

Author's note: This is the sixth and final entry in my series that begins with "Medusa's Trophy" and continues in "Medusa's Pleasure," "Medusa's Proposal," "Medusa's Answer," and "Medusa's Fate." I recommend reading the series in that order before reading this epilogue. This epilogue presents three sex scenes that, while superficially similar, complete and contrast very different story arcs for the characters involved, but they won't make nearly as much sense without the previous chapters for context.

All characters in this story are over 18 (especially Medusa).

If you've made it this far, consider leaving me a comment and letting me know what you think of these epilogues and/or the overall story. I especially welcome critiques, criticisms, and suggestions for improving my writing. Thanks!

Epilogue, Part 1

The Spartan's steps echoed as he entered Aphrodite's temple. The worship chamber was empty except for himself and the high priest of the love goddess. He strode past the empty benches and knelt before the altar.

The day was finally here. Asklepios - his former slave -- his father, his woman -

his wife now

, thought the Spartan - and all twelve of the failed champions were gone, never to return to Sparta. While the Spartan felt no gratitude for them, he had to acknowledge they had served their purpose and convinced the old men of the Gerousia. The ruling council had issued its edict: The Spartan alone had the glory of defeating Medusa. Now it was time for the Spartan to claim his rewards. The city would honor him, but first, on this night, it was Aphrodite's turn.

The temple was dark and smoky from the burning herbs and incense. The Priest chanted as he anointed the Spartan's head with oil. Then it was time for the final step.

The priest lifted the chalice and handed it to the Spartan. "Receive now a drink of the gods, hero of Aphrodite."

The fluid was heady, rich, and thick with mushrooms, herbs, and who knew what else. The Spartan drained the chalice in one long draught. As he stood, a feeling of enticing warmth spread out from his belly.

The priest opened the door behind the altar. "Advance now to the Room of Consummation. Claim your just rewards from the goddess."

The Spartan grinned. Already his manhood stirred as he stepped into the smoky darkness. The door closed behind him, leaving him in utter darkness.

Then her voice called, low and alluring. "I've been waiting for you, Spartan. Come to me."

He walked forward - and kept walking, guided by her little moans and giggles. This room couldn't possibly be so wide; the temple itself wasn't this long. Was the drink affecting him? Or was this the power of the gods at play?

Gradually, the smoke brightened into a white mist that settled to cover the floor. He was in a richly decorated room with vaulted ceilings and clear windows A large looking-glass hung down in the middle of the room, reflecting the floor below. Tapestries and paintings showed people and animals in coitus, a wild orgy or of positions and scenarios, with every figure engrossed in the carnal delights of coupling. Through the windows, he saw a garden, where carved statues of all manner of mortals and mythical creatures entwined and mated. He stared, and the erotic energy of the place washed over him, further stiffening his member in eager anticipation.

"Welcome to my bedchamber, Spartan." In the middle of the room, the mists of the floor parted, and a luxurious bed rose. Its sheets and pillows showed nymphs and satyrs in an orgy that was even wilder than that of the surrounding tapestries and statues, but these got little more than a casual glance. For there, in the middle of the bed, was Aphrodite.

"At last, you have come. My champion, come in glory to claim his reward for vanquishing Medusa." A vision of ultimate beauty blinded him to everything else in the room. There was only Aphrodite, reclined on a pile of cushions. Her golden hair was a cascade of curls framed and half-hid her the bosoms and other curving shapes of her glorious, immortal, naked form. Her rich lips curled up in a smile as she sat up. Her rich curves swayed and her breasts swung as she crawled across her silken bed toward him.

Her supple fingers insinuated themselves into his clothes, which fell away into the mists below. "Come claim your prize, my champion. The prize of your glory." Her hands pulled his, and he followed, crawling over the sumptuous form of the love goddess, mesmerized by the sheer, erotic feel of her touch. But as he pressed forward to meet his mouth to hers, her pouty lips turned down at the corners.

A single, soft finger pressed his lips back. "But it wasn't your glory, was it? You claimed it, and your city's elders were happy enough to honor you. But it was your slave who truly conquered Medusa."

The Spartan stared down at the goddess's enthralling eyes and irresistible lips, but the gentle push of her finger forced him to sit back. He opened his mouth, but his throat was too thick with desire to reply.

Aphrodite shifted and sat, and her curls bounced and shimmered around the jiggle of her voluptuous bosoms. "I

saw

you couple with Medusa. Oh, I can't say I blame you entirely - she had you at her mercy, and what could you do but let her ride you? I could overlook your manhood betraying me."

Her face hardened. "But it wasn't just your manhood that betrayed me, was it? I

heard

you couple with Medusa, too. What screams of passion passed your handsome lips! I heard them - all Olympus heard them! You denied me! You said you didn't care what I thought. You chose Medusa over me, the goddess of love itself! You shouted her name for all the gods to hear."

She glared at him, and he shrank from her fury back despite his arousal.

Her eyes flared with a fiery light. "I am a jealous goddess when it comes to love and lovemaking. I suffer neither challenges, nor defiance, nor betrayal. You were mine to have, and you gave it all up to that cursed woman and her twisted, monstrous charms."

Aphrodite's mouth twisted into a sneer as she sat up. The primeval power within her radiated raw malice. The Spartan crept back before her wrath. But then, as suddenly as it began, the fiery light of her fury faded.

She sniffed. "Of course, you're just a mortal man. How could you know what you were giving up to Medusa's fruits, if you'd never tasted mine? Only one has ever had us both - and Poseidon is almost as bad a lover as he is a judge."

She pursed her delicate lips. "Hmm - you did care enough for my favor to persuade all those failed champions, that woman, and your slave to go along with the preposterous claim that you defeated Medusa. That counts for something."

She gestured, and her bedding suddenly whipped around the Spartan and flung him on his back in the middle of the bed. The silk sheets enveloped his wrists and ankles, pulling and holding them fast to the edges of the bed. He gasped, but whether it was with terror or desire, he could not tell.

"I'll take you just as she took you - consider it a trial. I will see which of us you would truly choose if you had the choice: Medusa, or Aphrodite."

Aphrodite swept a thigh over the Spartan and rolled. She shook her head, spilling her golden curls to pool on his chest, revealing the glorious bounty of her bosoms. His manhood sprang up, renewed and desperate for attention.

The goddess' hips swayed just out of reach as she lowered herself. Her breasts slid across his chest, their hardened peaks tracing a line. Her mouth went to his ear, and she whispered, "Tell me: whose touch is the softer? Medusa's or mine?"

"Yo - yours!"

Her breath was hot on his ear, and her mouth sucked in his lobe. Hot waves of lust coursed through him. He wanted her - he needed her! His member twitched, and his hips rolled up, but Aphrodite kept her womanhood just out of its reach.

With a suctioning pull, she let his ear go. Her face came directly above his, and her hair fell all around them, forming soft, golden curtains where there was only her face and his. Her eyes glittered with amusement. Then her face lowered, and their lips met.

The wet warmth of the goddess' mouth overpowered him. Their tongues met in a slow, hypnotic dance, enveloped by an equally mesmerizing push and pull of their interlocking lips. Her enticing mouth was a promise, a prelude, a taste of the pleasures awaiting him. Still untouched, his member twitched. He strained to roll his hips up and couple with her, but the silk sheets held him there, unyielding. A droplet of seed oozed from the Spartan's spearhead.

Aphrodite pulled away suddenly, leaving a craving in the Spartan's mouth for more. But she sat up, her hips on his belly. "She never kissed you - she only used her mouth on your member. Whose lips do you prefer?"

"Yours! Yours!" The words came easily.

Aphrodite gazed down through her long lashes. "You know I could send you back. I have it on good authority that Medusa wants you again. You can have her. But you have to choose, here and now. Just this once, I'll let you go, and I swear by the River Styx that I will take no punishment on you. You can go. You can have Medusa and mate with her for the rest of your life, or you can have me, right here, right now, with no other promises."

"I choose you!" He lifted his head, desperate for her lips.

Aphrodite giggled as she pulled back just before their lips touched again. "That's not nearly enough. Say my name, Spartan. Who do you choose?"

"I choose Aphrodite!

The sweltering heat of her womanhood glided up the shaft of his turgid spear. The golden curtain around their faces whipped away, and her magnificent bosoms brushed his face as the love goddess threw her head back, raised up, and grinned up at the looking glass above them. "Shout it, my champion! Who do you choose? Let all Olympus hear your choice!"

"APHRODITE! APHRODITE! I CHOOSE APHRODITE!"

The goddess gazed down with a triumphal smile. "So be it, my champion. Take your reward!"

Aphrodite sank herself down, slowly enveloping the Spartan's spearhead in the heavenly heat of her soaking womanhood. Her hips rolled and swayed, caressing his member's tip and working her lavish folds down its shaft, bit by intoxicating bit.

Aphrodite moaned as her sheath settled about the full length of his manhood. "Ooh, yes, Spartan! You're bigger than I thought. Handsomely long - oh! - and pleasingly thick. It's long since a mortal filled me like this." The love goddess' womanhood wasn't as tight as some of the slaves the Spartan had taken to bed, but she was snug enough - and in such an active, rippling way! - he worried he might let fly his seed too soon.

Aphrodite leaned forward, resting her hands above his restrained arms. Her bosoms slid and bumped into his face. "Taste them, Spartan." He kissed, licked and sucked, feasting upon her lavish breasts.

"Yes! Like that. Suck them. Pleasure yourself on them! The Spartan turned from one to the other, attending as much as he could before seizing one of their golden-brown peaks and suckling hard, lathering it with his tongue. Then he switched to the other.

The love goddess rocked and swiveled her round hips. There was no thrusting - her magical sheets restrained the Spartan from rising up - but her womanhood worked his member thoroughly, kneading and massaging its full length along its soaking, soft walls. Her sheath slid and ground against his hilt in an a twisting, rolling dance.

Aphrodite suddenly threw back her head "Oh - oh yes, my champion! Give it to me! Breed me!" Her womanhood spasmed about him, the rolling of her hips grew stronger, and the heat of their mating spread to every extent of his body and grew to an almost painful intensity.

The Spartan wrenched back hid head and gave a wordless cry of rapture. His mortal manhood quivered and poured in a great offering of seed, and Aphrodite's depths gladly accepted the gift. The goddess collapsed down, her bosoms mashing against his chest, her panting lips finding his in a long, grateful kiss. With that, the silken sheets binding his wrists and ankles relaxed, and he embraced Aphrodite's heavenly form, pressing her to him in a tight embrace. His manhood remained, unyielding, within her.

Her mouth relaxed, and her head lifted. "Well now, my champion. Now that you've had us both, who was better, me, or Med - ooh! - "

Aphrodite squealed as the Spartan rolled her, coming to his knees as he rested her on her pile of cushions. "I'm not done having you, my goddess!" And with that, he drove himself back into her.

Aphrodite wrapped her legs about her champion's hips as he rocked his manhood in her carnal canal. "More? You have more for me, mortal?"

The Spartan grunted. "I had you - oh! - and I had Medusa. - Mmm - and I choose - I choose you, my goddess!" His hands caressed and squeezed her bosoms, her hips, and her waist. "But I have - ah! - a question for you too."

Aphrodite's hands roamed his chest down to his hips, pulling and guiding him into her. "What - unh! - What do you wish to know?"

The Spartan squeezed her breasts, drawing another gasp of pleasure from the goddess. "You've had Poseidon, and now you're having me. Who would you choose?"

Aphrodite moaned. "Ooh, Spartan! You play - oh! - a dangerous game! I love it!"

The Spartan glared. "Who, Aphrodite? Who's - ah! - the better lover?"

The love goddess looked up toward the looking glass above them and grinned. "I think I - oh! - I know! Convince me, Spartan! - Oh! - Show me!"

Aphrodite's champion plowed into his goddess, the mortal and immortal forms thrusting together in rhythm, their cries forming a harmony of erotic music that ebbed, flowed, and echoed through her bedchamber. The passion of their coupling seemed to dwarf that of the images on her bedsheets, her tapestries, or her statues. Few men, be they mortal, titan, or Olympian, had ever stirred her loins like this.

Who could say how long they coupled and strained together? The Spartan lost all concept of time as he he drove himself into the love goddess' rippling depths. His questing hands slid across and caressed her silken skin. His gazed wandered over her form, so perfect in its welcoming, bouncing, coital dance with him. His voice cried out in wordless pleasure and praise. With every thrust, he seared her impossible allure into his memory.

Aphrodite cheered him on throughout, meeting his passion with her own, crying out in undulating delight at this second, unbidden effort. As they mated, she came with a dozen small climaxes of pleasure before the Spartan lost count. But the fire between them could only be quenched one way. As the Spartan felt his desire start to boil over, the love goddess clutched at him and arched with urging vigor.

"Yes, my champion! Oh! Love me as no sea god ever has! Fill me like Poseidon wished he could! Seed my fertile womb! Give me your seed! Give me your child! OH - OH - OH YESSSS!"

The Spartan fell forward, squashing her bosoms against his hard chest and meeting her mouth with his in a moaning, desperate kiss. The music of their mating accelerated, their moans rising in a crescendo. The goddess' glorious form welled up in a final, roiling apex of pleasure, dragging her champion up with her, urging a second, even greater torrent of eager seed on into her molten, welcoming womb.

The Spartan collapsed on the goddess, utterly spent, as she stroked his back and neck. She looked up at the looking-glass on the ceiling, her eyes lingering on their joined, sweat-slicked bodies with a satisfied smirk. "Mmm, well done, my champion. Poseidon is a clumsy, pathetic wretch next to you, Spartan." Her smile broadened as she gazed at the looking glass, and she gave his battered phallus a final squeeze as she sighed. "Oh! And now all Olympus will know. Who could possibly doubt it now? You're the better lover by far."

~~~~~~~~~~

An attendant merman entered Poseidon's throne room and bowed. "My lord Poseidon?"

The sea god's trident flashed, and a third looking-glass shattered into thousands of fragments. "That harlot of a goddess!" He boomed. "Every looking glass I've seen shows my own spontaneous - and perhaps less than graceful - coupling with Aphrodite, and then shows her - her mating with that Spartan mortal. All so she can call me out as the lesser lover!"

The merman bowed. "It's not just your looking-glasses, my lord. It seems every looking glass everywhere just showed those two events in - well, in every detail. Down here, on Earth, and on Olympus, everyone with a magic looking glass saw that - that mortal mate with Aphrodite. And everyone heard it. For those who missed it, any looking glass should be able to show both encounters again. I've already had messages come in about it from Olympus. Shall I relay them to - "

- The palace rumbled as the sea-god's eyes flared. "This is intolerable! She must have had help! Apollo - Apollo must have helped her!

The attendant considered. "Hecate would be more likely, my lord, though there are plenty of other possibilities. Apollo could do this, but that seems improbable. He has been busy of late, and he - well, he is the only Olympian god who hasn't coupled with Aphrodite. She has little leverage over him, and I've only ever heard of them working together at Zeus' direction. In any case, the enchantment seems to be over now."

Poseidon's fist tightened around his trident. "You must think me very foolish."

The attendant shrugged. "It is not for any but another Olympian to judge you, sire. All things considered, this may be the best way to settle things. Aphrodite is easily bored. She will move onto her next man or spat with a woman soon enough. Your embarrassment will cool Hephaestus's anger over cuckolding him again, and this was far less humiliating than the net Haphaestus caught Ares and Aphrodite in. Best to let this blow over and move on."

Poseidon viewed the looking glass. It shimmered, ready to receive his commands. He sighed. "Send Apollo word. I need three new looking-glasses."

The attendant bowed. "That's why I came. A messenger of Apollo awaits you at the surface. He carries word, sire, from Medusa."

"

From

Medusa?"

~~~~~~~~~~

The Spartan rolled off the love goddess, flopping heavily on the silken sheets, exhausted and gasping. Aphrodite slid languidly down next to him. Her curvaceous legs were spread wide, and her head was thrown back, the golden curls of her hair splayed out about her. She knew her body as only a goddess of love could - it was fertile, ripe, and eager for his offering. Her hands caressed her breasts - which would nurse another child - then slid down to her belly, which would soon swell anew.

Long eyelashes batted open as she reached over and stroked the Spartan's face. "Mmm, you were impressive indeed. And what seed you've given me! Our child will be great, far greater than any of my mortal children!"

Her champion's eyes shined. "A King of Sparta!"

The goddess sighed. "No."

The Spartan raised his head. "No?"

The goddess pursed her lips. "You will sire no kings on me, my champion."

"But - but my prize - your promise!"

Aphrodite looked at him sidelong. "You speak to me of promises? You gave in to Medusa - you chose her over me - you screamed

her

name over mine. In that moment, you lost my pledge and my promise."

The Spartan sat up. "But - but I honored you anew! I chose you! I shouted your name! Do I not deserve some honor for that?"

Aphrodite sighed. "What do you know of honor? You claimed the valor of your slave for yourself. No, my Spartan lover, our child will be immortal and mine, not yours. You won this night with me by persuasion, and thus our child will be a goddess of persuasion. But you, her father, will be unknown. Nameless."