Dori me interimo (Greek Mythology, Apollo/Hermaphroditus)
Title: Dori me interimo
Author/Artist: allira_dream
Rating: NC17.
Warnings: Dub-con, coercion.
Word count: 1'700
Summary: Fear the gods and place no trust in them. This is the lesson Hermaphroditus has learnt.
A/N: Written for springkink: Mythology, Apollo/Hermaphroditus: Solitude - You have the luck of the gods, but that luck's a curse
Dori me interimo
The sound of the lyre woke Hermaphroditus from his slumber, and then he startled away when he felt another presence nearby. The music stopped, and a hand, gentle, settled on his knee.
“Fear not,” the voice said and there was Apollo, golden and bright, his lyre on his lap. “It was not my intention to scare you away.”
Hermaphroditus lowered his eyes respectful, and he tried to move as gracefully as he knew how to bow low on the god's feet.
“I'm sorry, lord. I meant no offense.”
“Did I sound offended, o Hermaphroditus?” When he glanced at him the god was smiling, but two seasons had gone since the time where the gods at the Olympus had granted Salmacis the right to violate his body, and he had grown wary of most of the gods. “Come here, sit by my side.”
And so he did, keeping his eyes cast down, fixing his tunic so that it didn't clung to the unmanly shapes his body had won. The movement, however, was caught by the sharp eyes of Artemis' brother, and when his hand curled on his chin, Hermaphroditus knew better than to try and stop his face from being lifted.
“Are you afraid of me, child?”
“No, lord. I merely hope not to offend,”
“It is the second time you say that, and yet you still have to say something I might find fault on,” the god, at the very least, sounded amused, eyes almost kind.
“And on me, lord?” he asked. For surely Apollo knew about his fate.
And yes, understanding filled Apollo's eyes and this time when he ducked his head, the god didn't stop him. Silence lasted for long, embarrassing minutes until Apollo asked, voice soft.
“Would you show me?”
If he'd been able too, Hermaphroditus would have said 'no', for his shame was his and his alone to bear. But he was aware that saying no to a god, and slowly he stood up, reaching to unclasp his tunic, letting the cloth fall unto the floor. It was a crime, perhaps, but he didn't look at the god's face as he took notice of the way his body had changed, at the curve of the waist that looked like a female's, at the way his chest now curved softly, buds of breasts that didn't belong.
He could feel the god's eyes on him, and he had to control himself not to startle away when he felt a hand follow the shape of his leg up to his thigh, and he tensed when Apollo's fingers touched his cock and then further down: he had no testicles left, and where they should have been instead were sensitive folds that he tried his best to ignore.
“Would you be able to heal me?” Hermaphroditus asked, for he desired nothing more than that, and as a way to ignore the way Apollo's fingers remained there. This was the god of medicine and healing, one who had blessed him with a minor form of his arts. Surely he'd realize what this curse meant. Surely...
“Hera Teleia was the one to hear the nymph's prayer,” Apollo said, shaking his head. “I cannot undo what the Queen has ordered to be, lest she grow mad at myself once more.”
Hermaphroditus felt his throat close and he tried to step away to pick his clothes, but Apollo, still closed, wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him tight against him. Salmacis' curse had meant his growth to be stumped-- he remained short, and while he was assured he remained beautiful, now his looks were more like his mother's than ever before.
“You have the luck of the gods, but that luck's a curse,” Apollo muttered once more, pity in his eyes before he leaned forward and kissed him.
Hermaphroditus froze, surprise making his reactions slow and Apollo took advantage of that, bringing him down to the grass again, covering his disgraceful body with his own, and despite the tunic the god still wore, Hermaphroditus could feel his erection against his thigh, which finally made him react.
“Stop!” He asked, pushing t the god's shoulder. He was shaking. “Would you violate my body as well?”
“Violate?” Apollo shook his head but he didn't move. If anything, he settled his weight between his thighs, rocking forward, and Hermaphroditus gasped when he felt the god's member brush against his own, sparks of need flowing through his veins. “I would show you that this curse can be as much a blessing as it's a curse. Being Aphrodite your mother, have you not thought about it? You can now feel a woman's pleasure, as well as a man.”
Hermaphroditus didn't move for a moment for no, he had born no thought about the female's part of his body at all. Once more Apollo took advantage of his silence, capturing his wrists with one powerful hand, leaning his head towards his chest and he licked at a nipple and Hermaphroditus shuddered hard. They hadn't been as sensitive before, but since his transformation they were almost unbearably so, and Apollo stayed there, his hand tight on his wrist and mouth and lips teasing at his nipples, with Hermaphroditus being unable to do anything but moan at the intrusion, feeling his penis harden. He was getting wet, too, his folds uncomfortably slick.
Apollo moved then, letting go of hi wrists to curl both broad hands on his hips, trapping him against the floor, and before Hermaphroditus could do anything, Apollo leaned forward, and Hermaphroditus could only shudder as the god's mouth opened to take him in, was gasp at the softness of it, the heat and lush honey, the smooth, liquid roll of that mouth over the sensitive flesh of his penis that made his head spin and his hands tremble where they had curled on the ground.
He didn't dare to clutch at Apollo's flame-pale hair but he could feel the warmth of it spilling over his thighs, and hips, the same way he could feel Apollo's hands holding his hips in a bruising grip. Hermaphroditus sobbed, feeling the softness of Apollo's mouth closing around him, swallowing, the wet, hungry sounds of it, the way light and fire sang inside his body, pooling low on his belly, near where Apollo almost seemed to be threatening to eat him whole.
Hermaphroditus back curved off the ground, his mouth opening in a scream as he felt the crest of that wave break finally. That light an fire flared through him and he sobbed through the pleasure of it, feeling the way Apollo's tongue moved, the way his hands moved, feeling as if he was being emptied.
He was still shivering after that when he felt Apollo shift but the god didn't move from him. Rather he heard the rustle of clothes, and then hands on his thighs again and Hermaphroditus opened his eyes to see Apollo poised above him, the head of his erection against the wet folds that didn't belong to him.
“Ahh, no,” he begged, trembling, trying to make his still weak muscles to shift away, but the god ignored his plea and he pushed inside - Hermaphroditus cried again but this time in pain, and this time he did nothing to stop his hands from curling at the god's forearms, even when his nails bit unto his flesh.
“So sweet like this,” Apollo whispered, marvel in his voice. He felt too big inside of his body, thick and just different, big and unwelcome, for all that Hermaphroditus body trembles as if it was wanted. “So tight, so good.”
“Let go,” Hermaphroditus begged again, but Apollo ignored hid request once more. Instead he leaned down and he took his mouth as well, and Hermaphroditus tasted his release in the god's mouth and the god took in his mouth his scream as he started to thrust inside of him. “Gods, no--”
“Stop fighting,” and it's almost a command. Apollo didn't try to reach for his hands this time but his own remained bruising on his thighs before he freed one hand to curl by his knee, lifting his leg so that it rested on the god's shoulder and that made it different somehow when he thrust again: when he gasped again, Hermaphroditus did it for the pleasure that ran through his body like a thunder, and he felt his eyes widen in his surprise. “You'll enjoy it.”
The initial agony had faded, merely reduced to a dull, echoing ache. Despite the way Hermaphroditus glared his body remained a traitor and he felt the same wave form again inside of him, his thighs strung painfully tight as Apollo kept on thrusting inside of him, the ache edged with the lightning-bright spear of sensation and fullness from before.
He bit at Apollo's throat when the god leaned closer, raked his back with his fingernails and he tried not to pant as that only made the god thrust harder inside of him.
“Do you like it now, Hermaphroditus?” Apollo asked, fire in his eyes and in his voice and Hermaphroditus refused to answer, cared not to feed more of Apollo's ego, no more than his body was already causing when it answered like this, and when Apollo lowered his head to kiss him again, Hermaphroditus bit is lip instead.
And that caused Apollo to break apart, his hands digging into his waist again, hips driving upwards and Hermaphroditus couldn't stop himself from crying out as he felt a liquid, searing hit fill him up and, before the god was done, his hand curled around his erection once more and Hermaphroditus cried out loud again when he reached that summit once more.
He must have passed out after that, for when he woke up, Apollo wasn't there anymore. Hermaphroditus didn't quite curse, for he knew this would be a battle he was destined to lose, but he gathered his clothes and left Apollo's lands, never to go back.
Author/Artist: allira_dream
Rating: NC17.
Warnings: Dub-con, coercion.
Word count: 1'700
Summary: Fear the gods and place no trust in them. This is the lesson Hermaphroditus has learnt.
A/N: Written for springkink: Mythology, Apollo/Hermaphroditus: Solitude - You have the luck of the gods, but that luck's a curse
Dori me interimo
The sound of the lyre woke Hermaphroditus from his slumber, and then he startled away when he felt another presence nearby. The music stopped, and a hand, gentle, settled on his knee.
“Fear not,” the voice said and there was Apollo, golden and bright, his lyre on his lap. “It was not my intention to scare you away.”
Hermaphroditus lowered his eyes respectful, and he tried to move as gracefully as he knew how to bow low on the god's feet.
“I'm sorry, lord. I meant no offense.”
“Did I sound offended, o Hermaphroditus?” When he glanced at him the god was smiling, but two seasons had gone since the time where the gods at the Olympus had granted Salmacis the right to violate his body, and he had grown wary of most of the gods. “Come here, sit by my side.”
And so he did, keeping his eyes cast down, fixing his tunic so that it didn't clung to the unmanly shapes his body had won. The movement, however, was caught by the sharp eyes of Artemis' brother, and when his hand curled on his chin, Hermaphroditus knew better than to try and stop his face from being lifted.
“Are you afraid of me, child?”
“No, lord. I merely hope not to offend,”
“It is the second time you say that, and yet you still have to say something I might find fault on,” the god, at the very least, sounded amused, eyes almost kind.
“And on me, lord?” he asked. For surely Apollo knew about his fate.
And yes, understanding filled Apollo's eyes and this time when he ducked his head, the god didn't stop him. Silence lasted for long, embarrassing minutes until Apollo asked, voice soft.
“Would you show me?”
If he'd been able too, Hermaphroditus would have said 'no', for his shame was his and his alone to bear. But he was aware that saying no to a god, and slowly he stood up, reaching to unclasp his tunic, letting the cloth fall unto the floor. It was a crime, perhaps, but he didn't look at the god's face as he took notice of the way his body had changed, at the curve of the waist that looked like a female's, at the way his chest now curved softly, buds of breasts that didn't belong.
He could feel the god's eyes on him, and he had to control himself not to startle away when he felt a hand follow the shape of his leg up to his thigh, and he tensed when Apollo's fingers touched his cock and then further down: he had no testicles left, and where they should have been instead were sensitive folds that he tried his best to ignore.
“Would you be able to heal me?” Hermaphroditus asked, for he desired nothing more than that, and as a way to ignore the way Apollo's fingers remained there. This was the god of medicine and healing, one who had blessed him with a minor form of his arts. Surely he'd realize what this curse meant. Surely...
“Hera Teleia was the one to hear the nymph's prayer,” Apollo said, shaking his head. “I cannot undo what the Queen has ordered to be, lest she grow mad at myself once more.”
Hermaphroditus felt his throat close and he tried to step away to pick his clothes, but Apollo, still closed, wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him tight against him. Salmacis' curse had meant his growth to be stumped-- he remained short, and while he was assured he remained beautiful, now his looks were more like his mother's than ever before.
“You have the luck of the gods, but that luck's a curse,” Apollo muttered once more, pity in his eyes before he leaned forward and kissed him.
Hermaphroditus froze, surprise making his reactions slow and Apollo took advantage of that, bringing him down to the grass again, covering his disgraceful body with his own, and despite the tunic the god still wore, Hermaphroditus could feel his erection against his thigh, which finally made him react.
“Stop!” He asked, pushing t the god's shoulder. He was shaking. “Would you violate my body as well?”
“Violate?” Apollo shook his head but he didn't move. If anything, he settled his weight between his thighs, rocking forward, and Hermaphroditus gasped when he felt the god's member brush against his own, sparks of need flowing through his veins. “I would show you that this curse can be as much a blessing as it's a curse. Being Aphrodite your mother, have you not thought about it? You can now feel a woman's pleasure, as well as a man.”
Hermaphroditus didn't move for a moment for no, he had born no thought about the female's part of his body at all. Once more Apollo took advantage of his silence, capturing his wrists with one powerful hand, leaning his head towards his chest and he licked at a nipple and Hermaphroditus shuddered hard. They hadn't been as sensitive before, but since his transformation they were almost unbearably so, and Apollo stayed there, his hand tight on his wrist and mouth and lips teasing at his nipples, with Hermaphroditus being unable to do anything but moan at the intrusion, feeling his penis harden. He was getting wet, too, his folds uncomfortably slick.
Apollo moved then, letting go of hi wrists to curl both broad hands on his hips, trapping him against the floor, and before Hermaphroditus could do anything, Apollo leaned forward, and Hermaphroditus could only shudder as the god's mouth opened to take him in, was gasp at the softness of it, the heat and lush honey, the smooth, liquid roll of that mouth over the sensitive flesh of his penis that made his head spin and his hands tremble where they had curled on the ground.
He didn't dare to clutch at Apollo's flame-pale hair but he could feel the warmth of it spilling over his thighs, and hips, the same way he could feel Apollo's hands holding his hips in a bruising grip. Hermaphroditus sobbed, feeling the softness of Apollo's mouth closing around him, swallowing, the wet, hungry sounds of it, the way light and fire sang inside his body, pooling low on his belly, near where Apollo almost seemed to be threatening to eat him whole.
Hermaphroditus back curved off the ground, his mouth opening in a scream as he felt the crest of that wave break finally. That light an fire flared through him and he sobbed through the pleasure of it, feeling the way Apollo's tongue moved, the way his hands moved, feeling as if he was being emptied.
He was still shivering after that when he felt Apollo shift but the god didn't move from him. Rather he heard the rustle of clothes, and then hands on his thighs again and Hermaphroditus opened his eyes to see Apollo poised above him, the head of his erection against the wet folds that didn't belong to him.
“Ahh, no,” he begged, trembling, trying to make his still weak muscles to shift away, but the god ignored his plea and he pushed inside - Hermaphroditus cried again but this time in pain, and this time he did nothing to stop his hands from curling at the god's forearms, even when his nails bit unto his flesh.
“So sweet like this,” Apollo whispered, marvel in his voice. He felt too big inside of his body, thick and just different, big and unwelcome, for all that Hermaphroditus body trembles as if it was wanted. “So tight, so good.”
“Let go,” Hermaphroditus begged again, but Apollo ignored hid request once more. Instead he leaned down and he took his mouth as well, and Hermaphroditus tasted his release in the god's mouth and the god took in his mouth his scream as he started to thrust inside of him. “Gods, no--”
“Stop fighting,” and it's almost a command. Apollo didn't try to reach for his hands this time but his own remained bruising on his thighs before he freed one hand to curl by his knee, lifting his leg so that it rested on the god's shoulder and that made it different somehow when he thrust again: when he gasped again, Hermaphroditus did it for the pleasure that ran through his body like a thunder, and he felt his eyes widen in his surprise. “You'll enjoy it.”
The initial agony had faded, merely reduced to a dull, echoing ache. Despite the way Hermaphroditus glared his body remained a traitor and he felt the same wave form again inside of him, his thighs strung painfully tight as Apollo kept on thrusting inside of him, the ache edged with the lightning-bright spear of sensation and fullness from before.
He bit at Apollo's throat when the god leaned closer, raked his back with his fingernails and he tried not to pant as that only made the god thrust harder inside of him.
“Do you like it now, Hermaphroditus?” Apollo asked, fire in his eyes and in his voice and Hermaphroditus refused to answer, cared not to feed more of Apollo's ego, no more than his body was already causing when it answered like this, and when Apollo lowered his head to kiss him again, Hermaphroditus bit is lip instead.
And that caused Apollo to break apart, his hands digging into his waist again, hips driving upwards and Hermaphroditus couldn't stop himself from crying out as he felt a liquid, searing hit fill him up and, before the god was done, his hand curled around his erection once more and Hermaphroditus cried out loud again when he reached that summit once more.
He must have passed out after that, for when he woke up, Apollo wasn't there anymore. Hermaphroditus didn't quite curse, for he knew this would be a battle he was destined to lose, but he gathered his clothes and left Apollo's lands, never to go back.