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 Tales of Geeta 7 - the introduction of Aphrodite
   Although this is another in the continuing Tales of Geeta series, the
main character here is F.  Bernard Thompson, the nasty lawyer that Geeta
reformed in Tales of Geeta 3.  The reader would do well to read through
Geeta 3 before proceeding further.
   F.  Bernard Thompson stepped into the elevator on the fourth floor of an
office building in northern Toronto, happy and satiated by his experience
that evening at the massage parlor where Geeta worked.  His wife and
children had left the day before to visit his wife's parents in Arizona,
and wouldn't be back for a couple of weeks.  He was free as a bird and
decided he'd have some fun.
   He hadn`t seen Geeta that evening - she almost never worked Thursday
nights - but his need had been great, and so while still at work he looked
up the massage parlor`s website, and saw that Geeta`s good friend Alice was
working that evening.  He had seen her a few times before, and had always
found the young, statuesque Nigerian beauty to be a very satisfying
experience indeed.
   Tonight was no different.  Thompson had long ago gotten over the beating
Geeta once gave him, and he felt no resentment for it, nor for the small
role Alice had played in that incident (Alice was one of the girls who had
initially helped Geeta pin down and then restrain him).  In fact, he was
grateful, for his rather brutal initial encounter with the sex trade, for
it had introduced him to a world of which previously he had known virtually
nothing.
   He`d felt so much better since he started seeing prostitutes.  He`d
started going to the gym for the first time in years, and was back down to
his university weight.  Now, almost a year later, he had learned a lot -
meaning he had visited Geeta`s parlor often (and a few others as well, plus
some escorts including even incalls when his wife and children were out),
usually seeing Geeta but sometimes others as well.  He had spent a lot of
money in the process, but he could afford it - as a wealthy lawyer working
for banks, he could spend twice over what he`d tossed away on these girls
and not even notice.
   Alice had greeted him this evening with a big smile, but then said
regretfully.  ``Sorry, Bernie, but Geeta`s not here tonight.``
   ``I know that, but I came here to see you instead.``
   The first time he`d come to see Alice, she had seen him with some
reluctance, and afterwards she told Geeta about it, offering her the money
Thompson had given her, but was relieved when Geeta said that she had no
problem with Alice or anyone else for that matter sleeping with Bernie. 
After that, Alice was very pleased to receive the lawyer now and again when
he was driven by his needs to seek relief.
   Tonight had been slow - Thompson had been Alice`s second customer, even
though she`d already been at work four hours.  She had no one at all booked
after him, and so she`d decided to give him anything and everything her
sexy mind could devise, in the hope of a generous tip.  She`d started off
by showering with Thompson, something she`d never done before with a
customer.  She had chosen the jacuzzi room, and after the shower they
stepped into the warm water, chatting together for a while and having a
glass of wine.  Then Alice got started.
   After lubricating her hands with massage oil, she`d gone to work on the
man, but not just on his cock.  Thomson sat back in the tub, almost
upright, while Alice kneeled before him in the warm, soapy water, her mouth
on his, his hands on her very, very ample breasts, her skin so dark that it
was almost impossible to believe that aerelos were even darker, and as
their lips locked and their tongues intertwined, Thompson had felt a warm,
soft, oily hand gently touch his anus, probe tentitivly, and insert itself
slowly up his ass, heading unerringly for his prostate.
   Geeta had anally stimulated him many times, and Thomson loved this.  But
Geeta had always used this as foreplay, or as a surprise addition near his
release, to heighten his orgasm.  Alice`s technique was different, even
though she`d learned about prostate massage from one of Geeta`s customer`s
to whom Geeta had introduced her, a urologisit.
   Alice focused exclusively on the gland at the base of Thomson`s cock,
not touching his penis at all.  At first she`d gently stroked the prostate,
waiting until she felt her customer complete relax, and stretch to
accomodate her hand, which was rather larger than Geeta`s.  After a few
minutes, when she felt the man was ready, she whispered in his ear.
   ``Bernie, I`m going to do something special for you - I only do this for
customer`s I really like.  Now this might make you feel like you have to
urinate, but I promise you it`s not real.  Just be patient and wait, and
you`ll be really glad you did.``
   Thomson was happy to do as he was told.  One thing he liked about seeing
prostitutes was giving up control.  In his world, he was always the man in
charge, and he loved surrendering his sense of power to beautiful young
women, doing their bidding, following their orders.  And so he relaxed
fully as the gorgeaus Nubian goddess began to go to work on him.
   Alice placed the pad of her third finger on the prostate, and began to
gently stroke it repeatedly at very high speed, ignoring the man`s gasps as
she did so.  As Alice had warned, Thomson very soon felt the need to
urniate, but ignored it and the sensation passed, replaced by a new feeling
that he`d never had before.  He felt like he was going to cum, even though
his cock had grown soft as the girl attended to him.  He had not thought it
was possible to feel sexual pleasure without an erection, and yet here he
was, his hips starting to writhe slightly as he felt himself responding to
the repeating strokes on his gland.
   ``Oh god that`s good don`t stop don`t stop oh jesus please don`t stop``,
moaned Thomson as, incredibly, an orgasm like he`d never had before washed
over him.  It was not just that it was more powerful.  The orgasm was also
different in character.  Normally when he came his main feeling was the joy
and the ecstasy of the release, but here it was quite different - a huge
surge of deep emotion, of love for Alice and all women, swelled within him,
and he rode the crest, crying out as his orgasm peaked.  Fluid leaked from
his semi-hard penis as he rocked gently beneath the black beauty, her
breasts swaying rapidly in time to her finger`s thrusts in his ass.
   After Alice gave him time to settle down, she led him from the hot tub,
dried him off and then settled him on the massage table, where another
first awaited him.  After taking him into her mouth, Alice moved her mouth
lower, first sucking his balls while gently masturbating him, her tongue
then probing lower, gently stabbing at his perenium, and then to Thompson's
amazement, Alice snaked her long, hot tongue up his ass, and tongue fucked
him repeatedly as her hand shot up and down on his rock-hard cock with
jackhammer speed.  When she sensed he was cumming, her mouth took him in
once more.  When she sensed Thompson was reaching the limit of his
endurance, she moved him into a sitting position on the table, and Alice
squatted before him as she sucked, When she felt the head of his penis
swell, she pulled his organ from his mouth - just in time for the first
sticky white rope of cum to jet from him, all over her beautiful face. 
Stream after stream followed, some landing in the girl's mouth, some on her
hair, a lot on her face, and the cum dribbled down in streams onto her
superb 38D chest.
   Alice showered, leaving Thompson to relax on the table.  She got on and
started to dry herself, and Thompson began to get up to shower.
   "Where're you going, honey?" asked Alice.  "The show's not over yet."
   Rather surprised, Thompson lay down again, and only now did Alice
massage him.  Really her purpose was to give him time to recover, and after
a long, sensual massage of the customer's back and legs, she turned him
over, pleased to see that he was once again hard and ready.  She deftly
slipped a rubber on to him, and the fucked, seemingly forevers so far as
Thompson was concerned, first with Alice on top, then doggie style, then
sitting, and finally finishing in the missionary position.  While Alice was
a very experienced whore, Thompson's technique, combined with an
above-average sized cock (and the fact she'd grown to like the man)
overcame her usual indifference to being fucked by a customer, and soon
Alice was moaning with the joy of her own release.  Thompson had fucked
Alice a couple of times before, and while it had been great for him, he'd
known that she hadn't orgasmed.  But this was very different, and he was
very flatttered to feel the young girl's powerful vaginal contractions
squeezing him.  "Oh god Bernie oh god keep going for me baby don't stop
give it to me hard oh please," the girl groaned beneath, and Thompson could
only handle a few seconds of this before he came inside her with such force
that his balls were still aching a short while later as he took the
elevator downstairs.
   Thompson headed out to the parking lot next door, his car parked next to
the gym.  He'd taken only a few steps when he saw only blackness as the
hood was slipped over his head, and strong, rough hands easily picked him
up and dumped him in the open door of a van that appeared from no where. 
Shocked and disoriented, he did not even cry out until after the van door
had rolled shut, and by then it was too, too late, for his captors removed
the hood only to tape shut his mouth.  His hands were cuffed behind his
back.  He saw several men, one of whom produced a needle, and there there
was nothing.
   * * *
   Thompson awoke in a small, cold cell.  There were no windows other than
a narrow slit of glass, which did little to illuminate the room.  His hands
were still cuffed behind his back, and he was sitting in a corner leaning
against the wall.  Where his back made contact with the wall his body ached
from the cold, and he moved himself forward a bit to get away from the
freezing surface.  He waited in fear for what seemed like hours, hungry,
thirsty, cold and terrified.  Eventually he heard sounds outside the cell
door, and while this gave him hope that perhaps he might be fed or given at
least some water, he feared that something worse was to come.  The door
opened, and two men walked in.  Each taking an arm, they lifted Thompson to
his feet and began marching him towards the door.
   Thompson knew that there was no point asking any questions, and he went
along without making a sound.  He had decided that the best strategy on his
part was to be docile.  The two guards led him down a long hallway lined
with doors which probably led to cells.  At the end of the hall was a
double set of doors through which they entered, into a large, semi-circular
room - a courtroom, in fact.  A half-dozen other men in cuffs were seated
in a holding area.  At one end of the room was a raised dias, there was
seated a young woman, not older than 20, and stunningly beautiful.
   Thomson's guards seated him with the other prisoners, and then joined
several other guards seated behind them, ready to control Thompson and the
others if necessary.
   "Let's get started", said the young lady on the dias.  "William Alvarez
- stand up."
   A tall, arrogant-looking man in his mid-thirties stood up.  Despite his
ordeal, he looked rather sharp, his suit expensive, his shoes polished.
   "I have some questions for you," said the young woman.  "First of all -
" But she was unable to finish.
   "YOU'VE got some questions?  You gotta be fuckin' kidding me.  I don't
have any fuckin' idea why I'm here.  I keep asking what the fuck is going
on and nobody wants to tell me a goddamn thing," said the man angrily.
   "I'll give you another chance.  If you answer our questions honestly,
simply and briefly, you might actually walk out of here.  Otherwise - "
   But the woman didn't get to finish her sentence.
   "Who the fuck do you think you are?  Do you have any goddam idea who I
am?  If you knew who you were messing with - " the man was starting an
enraged rant, and he did not notice the lady in charge nodding to one of
the guards behind him.  The guard stepped forwards, and only when he got
close to the prisoner and raised his hand did the man notice him, and then
it was far too late.  At the last second he started to move his head, but
suddenly his body went limp and he slumped to the floor, dead.
   "What you have just seen should be a good lesson for you all," said the
lady in charge.  "This fool was executed by having a metal bolt shot into
his head using the same device employed by slaughterhouses for killing
cattle.  It's our preferred method of execution for your kind." A pause
while the corpse was removed.  Somewhat ominously, no one bothered to clean
up the gore, as if there was no point in doing so just yet.
   "Let's try again with someone else, shall we?  Charles Taylor - stand
up."
   Taylor was a small man in his mid-fifties, and he was plainly terrified
by what he had just seen.
   "Are you prepared to answer our questions?" asked the beautiful young
woman.
   "Please don't kill me please I'm sorry please!" the man begged.  The
young woman nodded at the guard, and Taylor began to writhe, franticaly
trying to raise his cuffed hands and screaming for mercy, but like the man
before him, he was dead instantaneously when a long metal bolt suddenly
pierced his skull.  Two guards dragged the man's remains out the door. 
There were now only four prisoners left.
   "That man failed to answer a direct question.  The rest of you should
learn by example.  Answer questions promptly and politely, and you might
live.  If you stall, prevaricate, or god help you insult us, you shall
suffer instant death.  Next - Francis Bernard Thompson,"
   Thompson immediately stood up.
   "Do you have any idea why you are here, Thompson?" asked the young lady,
her voice a beautiful contralto, with the hint of an accent Thompson could
not identify.
   "Yes."
   "Would you care to explain?"
   "Yes, please, if I am permitted," said Thomson, striving to sound as
deferential as he could.
   "I give you permission to speak rather more expansively.  If I want you
to stop speaking, I will indicate as much.  Please explain more."
   "Yes, ma'am.  I was in a massage parlour just moments before I was
arrested.  I am wondering whether the reason I was taken relates to that -
perhaps I am to be punished in some fashion for being there."
   "You surmise correctly, Thomson," observed the young woman.  She
questioned him at some length, obtaining truthful answers from Thompson,
for the most part monosyllabic replies confessing to the extent of his
involvement with prostitutes - how long he'd been seeing them, how often,
how many different women, how much money he'd spent.  Thompson actually
found the questioning rather easy - he'd decided that he would simply tell
the truth, concealing nothing.
   "You may be seated Thompson.  Do not think that because you are still
live that your answers have pleased me - for they have not.  You remain
alive only because you answered our questions quickly, simply and as far as
we can tell, truthfully, unlike the two fools who proceeded you.  Let us
see if the others do as well."
   But despite the clear examples before them, all four of the remaining
prisoners were executed that night, some only a few seconds after their
questioning started, only one lasting longer than five minutes - for
whatever reason they would not or could not answer in a straightforward
manner, and one by one their skulls were ripped open by the same mechanical
pistol, a large hole leaving plenty of room for grey matter to make a hasty
and messy exit.
   "Thompson, you have done well to have lasted this long.  Usually there
are no survivors at all.  But your ordeal is far from over yet, and if you
are not to finish like the rest, you must continue as you started.  Do as
you are told with alacrity, and you might live.  Do you understand?"
   "Yes, ma'am," said Thompson, his eyes averted.
   The young woman rose, and departed.  Thompson was led out of the
courtroom.  But instead of going back to his cell, he was led to a somewhat
more comfortable room - it was still a cell, but at least it had a bed, a
sink and a toilet.  But like the cell, the only source of light was what
filtered through from the corridor outside the glass above the door.  After
a while, a small meal was brought to him, which he ate ravenously. 
Suddenly the light in the hall went out, and the room was in total
darkness. Despite his terror, it was not long before Thompson fell into a
deep, exhausted sleep.
   When he woke up, the light was back on in the corridor, and so he could
dimly perceive his surroundings.  He felt like he'd had a full night's
sleep, but with no frame of reference, he could not judge the time.  Soon
the door opened and a guard brought in a breakfast for him, Thompson
hastily chowing down on the meal and drinking the black coffee.  After an
interval, the guard returned, cuffed him, and led him out.  After a few
minutes' walk, the guard opened a door to what appeared to be a small
office.  There was one chair, a small table, a small table with a lamp - no
window, no decorations.  The guard uncuffed Thompson and told him to wait.
   After a few minutes, the door opened again.  It was the young lady from
the night before - the stunningly beautiful one who had sat on the dias. 
Thomson was completely at a loss as to what to do in her presence.  He knew
some mark of obeisance was required.  He found himself bowing just as he
would to a judge in court.
   "The custom is to kneel in my presence, but you do not know that yet."
   Thomson raised his head hesitantly.
   "Yes, you may look up at me," said the woman, and Thomson allowed his
eyes to rest on her.  In other circumstances, he would have been more
appreciative of what he saw, for without a doubt before him was the most
beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.  She was caucasian, but not from
northern Europe - Italian perhaps, her hair almost impossibly black in
colour, long, deep and rich.  Thompson estimated that the woman was close
to 5'10" - almost as tall as he, her posture perfect.  She projected an
image of total confidence and feminine power.  Her eyes were a pure green,
the same hue as the colour of the sea in travel brochures for exotic island
retreats.  Her clothing, while formal, was in no way intended to hide her
figure, which was curved, ample and perfect.  And somehow there was a
radiance about her, as if she were somehow illuminated by an inner light.
Thompson felt the horrible fear in him being replaced by a sense of awe.
   "You may be seated," said the woman.  Thompson knew that she did not
mean for him to take the only chair in the room, and he sat on the floor,
cross-legged.  The young lady seated herself across from him.
   "Unlike the others that are brought here, you seem to have no difficulty
with the idea that you are not in charge - that in fact you are a prisoner
with no rights at all.  Is there some reason for this?"
   "I had an experience once that changed me forever," said Thompson.  "I
once made a terrible mistake, and I offended a young lady.  She took her
revenge on me in a very drastic fashion, and I learned that it's a very,
very bad mistake to fail to recognize reality for what it is."
   The young woman asked Thompson to explain, and with her encouragement he
gave a very detailed account of how Geeta had tamed him, infliciting
punishment and humiliation and also forcing him to pay a large sum of
blackmail money to her - the amusing details of which are set out in Tales
of Geeta, part 3.
   The young lady laughed delightedly at the story - Thompson was struck by
the sound of her laugh - perhaps the most beautiful sound he had ever
heard, filling him with such joy that he had to fight back tears.  What was
going on here?
   "Soon you must introduce me to this Geeta girl - she sounds like someone
after my own heart," said the young woman.  "So you think you should fear
me as you fear Geeta?"
   "Yes, only rather more so," said Thompson.
   "I don't think you realize how right you are," replied the young lady.
"It is not necessary for me to employ men like I did last night in order to
punish those who offend me.  For example, I can blind you in an instant."
   No sooner had she spoken these words when suddenly Thompson was totally
deprived of sight.  It was not just that he was surrounded by blackness -
it was worse, as if the very concept of light had disappeared He tipped
forward, onto his hands and knees, his mouth agape in utter incomprehension
- it seemed forever before he could utter a sound, and then "Oh god oh
please please don't leave me like this oh please don't I beg you -"
   And as suddenly as the infinite darkness had descended, it lifted, and
Thompson's sight was restored to him.  Simply being able to see the carpet
in front of his face was the most beautiful sight Thompson had ever known,
and the tears overwhelmed him as he poured out his thanks to the young
woman.  She waited for him to compose himself, which took quite awhile She
did not mind the wait - she had lots of time.  After all, as far as she
could tell, she was immortal.
   "Do you have any inkling who I am?" she asked.
   Thompson looked up at her.  "You're more than just human - no human
being could do what you just did.  And no human could look like you do -
your beauty is impossible, and yet it is.  And your voice - your laughter
is like nothing on earth.  And yet you appear human - are you from the
future?  Are you an alien of some kind?" Thompson could not believe what he
is saying.
   "That's a good question," replied the woman.  "I'll have to think about
that.  I can tell you the familiar name by which I am known.  I am
Aphrodite."
   Thompson had no difficulty accepting this simple statement, for while
impossible, it explained everything.  Had anyone suggested to Thompson the
day before that he would meet a goddess, he would have laughed, for he was
a dyed-in-the-wool atheist, having rejected all religious beliefs in his
teens.  But recent events had changed all that, and it was the most natural
thing in the world to him when he found himself abjectly kneeling before
Aphrodite, frankly acknowledging her status as a divinity and professing
his undying loyalty and total obedience to her will.  He had not made any
conscious decision to worship her - it was a done reflexively.
   He remained on his knees before her as Aphrodite gently reached out and
stroked his hair.  She was very pleased with her new find, for she was even
more vain than the other immortals, and never tired of hearing herself
praised.
   "I will explain why I had you brought before me.  As you surmised last
night, the reason you were taken is that you had been inside a brothel -
you had seen a prostitute.  To me, the goddess of love, the selling of sex
for money is an anathema - a perversion of the act of love.  It is never to
be allowed, but for one exception which I will explain shortly.  But for
the one exception, I am greatly displeased by men who would corrupt women
by paying to have sex with them.  I am even more displeased by men who pay
to have sex with underage girls.  Are you guilty of this, too?"
   Thompson almost lost bladder control when he heard the question, for of
course he was guilty - he had seen Geeta over and over again, and knew full
well she was not yet eighteen.  Aphrodiate sensed his fear.  She could not
truly read minds, but she could sense strong emotions and occasionaly
something more detailed, and she knew immediately that Thompson was guilty,
at least in his own mind.  She only had to wait a few seconds before he
confessed, explaining in obvious terror that yes, he was guilty, and that
the girl Geeta that he'd told her about earlier was only sixteen when he
first met her - he was very sorry and begged her to forgive him.
   "There's nothing to forgive.  You do not realize as a mere mortal that
my standards are not your standards.  Geeta would have had to be thirteen
or younger for you to have angered me.  But you did well to speak the truth
to me, even though you must have known what I would do if you had had sex
with an underaged girl.  Why did you tell me the truth with no hesitation
at all?"
   "I knew that you might kill me on the spot if I told the truth, but if I
lied to you, I would be compounding my fault with a second one.  I will
never lie to you, and if I ever inadvertently give offence, I will always
prefer to admit my fault immediately and risk your wrath, rather than lie
to you."
   "You will do well to govern yourself so.  Now I must tell you that
whenever you address me, you must without fail always use the correct form;
an appropriate honourific or vocative form of address is essential. 
"Goddess" is acceptable, but as you will learn I have many, many names and
titles.  "Aphrodite" will do just fine.  But always be sure to include an
appropriate name of some kind at the beginning of any address to me."
   "Yes, Goddess, I will do so."
   "Good.  I have a bit more time I can spend with you before I go.  You
must be curious - I invite you to question me if you wish."
   "Thank you, Goddess." Thompson respectfully inquired whether Aphrodite
had the inclination to grant wishes.
   "At times, but I cannot use it in a way that would interfere with
matters that lie properly within the scope of another immortal's power.  I
give you permission to ask me to grant a wish, not because I intend to
grant it (you not yet having earned such an honour) but more because I am
curious to see what you would ask of your goddess."
   "Aphrodite, I ask for this - that whenever I face a choice or decision
of some kind, that I know intuitively as to which choice would be most
pleasing to you."
   "Interesting, mortal.  You do not ask that you automatically act in such
a way as to please me, but only that you know how to do so - why is this?"
   "Goddess, I speak under correction because I cannot guess at what would
please you, but I assume there would be no merit in being an automaton that
does your will without thought - that you would be more pleased if I could
choose to do what pleases you instead of doing it automatically."
   Aphrodite was in fact pleased by this answer.  "Mortal, in fact your
wish is granted from this instant.  You may ask another question."
   "Goddess, please tell me about the exception you spoke of earlier to
your general abhorrance of prostitution."
   "Prostitution is not only acceptable but even encouraged by me if it is
done in a temple dedicated to me, by a hetaera devoted to my service, with
a customer who lies with her as an act of worship of me.  As it happens,
the answer to your question relates to the reason I brought you here.  As
you saw last night, my anger with those who see prostitutes is so great
that it is hard for any man thus apprehended by me to escape with his life.
Only men who show that they are capable of being reformed do I permit to
live.  And so you lived, because I am convinced that you have true
potential.  But you must demonstrate that the potential can be realized. 
You must show me that you repent, and you must be prepared to make
sacrifices to do so.  Are you prepared to do this?"
   "Goddess, the answer is yes.  I know you have already given me the gift
I asked for, and I knew that "yes" is the answer you wished to hear.  Of
course I want to live and I would do what I had to do to avoid angering
you, but what matters so much more to me is doing what I can to please you,
so yes, please, show me what I must do."
   "You must become a prostitute, and service men in one of my temples."
   Thompson made his face a frozen mask, not wanting Aphrodite to see in
him the sick horror that rose inside the instant he heard her words. 
Instead of screaming, 'NOOOOOOOOOO", he instead heard his voice saying
instantly in reply to the Goddess, "Yes, Aphrodite, as you will this I will
do it."
   The goddess laughed, throwing her beautiful head back as she did so.
   "You mortals are so transparent!  Oh, you are so terrified and
disgusted, yet I am so pleased that you were determined not to show it! 
Have no fear - you have the word of an immortal that when you join my
temple as a hetaera, you will do so gladly, feeling none of the disgust
that filled you just now."
   Thompson felt better immediately - although he did not undertand at all,
his faith in Aphrodite was alreay absolute.
   * * *
   Thompson was permitted by Aphrodite to return home that day, with
instructions to remain home until contacted.  Thompson had had plans -
there were a number of things he had intended to do while his family went
away.  But those plans meant absolutely nothing to him now.  The goddess
had told him to remain home.  She did not say, "I order you to stay home" -
she had spoken the instruction casually when they parted.  But to Thompson,
any instruction from Aphrodite, however expressed, had the force of a law
infinitely more powerful than the law of mere mortals.  He therefore went
straight home, intending not even to step outside his front door until the
goddess contacted him.  If he ran out of food, he would order it in.  He
called into his office when he got home (it was late on Friday) explaining
that he had missed work due to illness, and he told his secretary to cancel
his next few court appearances, just in case.  He was prepared to cancel
all his appearances, indeed, to quit the firm and be disbarred rather than
to risk displeasing the goddess.
   But he only had to wait until Sunday morning.  He had logged on remotely
to his computer at work, catching up with email, when he suddenly became
aware of a presence.  He turned around, and saw Aphrodite standing in his
hallway.  He immediately got out of his chair, and knelt before her.
   "Goddess, I am delighted to see you," the joy in his voice obvious.
   "You may stand, mortal," said the goddess, smiling down at him.  When
Thompson rose, she took his hand and told him to prepare himself for a
short journey - he was to hold onto her and not let go.  She instructed him
to wrap his arms around her and keep his grip firm no matter what.  He did
as instructed, and felt her arms also wrap around him.  Her body was so
soft, yet so firm, her large, beautiful breasts pressed against his chest.
The goddess was scantily clad this day, dressed he supposed in what might
have been ancient greek casual clothing intended for one's own home, the
material very thin, and so he was instantly aware of the heat of her body
To his horror he felt himself respond - he began to grow erect, his
swelling cock jutting upright against her firm belly.  He felt his face
burning with embarrasment.  But the goddess sensed his discomfort, and
calmed him.
   "You need feel no shame, mortal.  You hold in your arms the most
beautiful, most desirable woman that the world will ever know.  How could
you not respond as you have?  It would be a wonder if your maleness did not
salute me.  I do not know if I will ever grant you the last favour - rarely
have I done so with a mortal - a male one, that is.  But I do not mind that
you hope for this - and you do hope, do you not?"
   "Oh yes Aphrodite oh yes oh yes!" said Thompson, in a quiet, ernest
voice.
   "This is as close as you are ever likely to get.  So relax and enjoy it
while we journey." And with those words, Thompson was suddenly aware that
they were moving at great speed.  He understood her admonition not to let
go, for he knew instinctively that if he did so, he would be gone - not
dead, perhaps, but maybe something worse - lost in an infinite limbo
forever.  And so he held on literally for dear life, his hard cock trapped
between his own body and that of the goddess, his pulsating organ
luxuriating in the warmth.  As they moved through the ether, Thompson's
mind was completely taken up with the idea of making love to Aphrodite -
what could this possibly be like?  He wished he could rub himself against
her, but he knew this would be an unwarranted liberty - probably his last,
too.  But they were being buffetted somewhat in their journey, and so his
manhood was to some extent further stimulated as they moved - not enough to
make him orgasm, but highly pleasurable nonetheless.  All too soon their
journey ended, and with the greatest regret he felt the goddess release her
grip on him.  Thompson knew he must also let go, and he did so immediately,
filled with a profound sadness.  Would he ever hold Aphrodite again?
   "Yes, you will," said she in response to the unspoken question. 
"Whenever you travel with me, you must grasp me in that fashion, and so you
can look forward to the privilege of holding me now and again when it is
necessary for me to bring to to and from this place."
   'This place' was a location unknown to Thompson.  He stood with
Aphrodite on a walkway by the sea.  In Toronto the weather had been cool,
as autumn was coming to an end.  But here it was warm - a glorious day, the
sea a beautiful deep blue-green, a breeze ruffling the goddess's
outrageously beautiful hair - and also her loose clothing, which flapped
open a bit, revealing the smooth curve of an ample breast.  Thompson
hastily averted his eyes, for thanks to the gift the goddess had granted
him a few days earlier, he knew that Aphrodite would be displeased if he
took the opportunity to leer at the inadvertent exposure of her body. 
Aphrodite told him to follow her, and he did so as she headed up the path.
He looked ahead to see where they were going, and again found himself
distracted by the sight of the goddess's swaying hips, her firm, ripe
buttocks clearly visible under the wispy material of her scanty covering.
Thompson stared downwards, determined to see nothing more of the goddess
than her feet, fearful of offending her.
   Thompson walked for some time in this fashion, looking at the ground in
front of his feet, as Aphrodite walked effortlessly up the path next to the
sea, the incline at times very steep.  Thompson managed to keep up with the
goddess, but it was difficult, she making no effort to slow her pace to
accomodate him.  After a time, the goddess stopped.  He looked up, careful
not to glance in Aphrodite's direction.  They were on the top of a rise,
and beneath them was a large house in what Thompson supposed was an ancient
greek style - a large rectangle plan around an interior courtyard.  He
followed the goddess down the path and into the entrance way into the home.
   Aphrodite's entrance caused a modest commotion, for the servant waiting
at the entrance immediately knelt, then rose to sound a nearby bell. 
Aphrodite continued on into the courtyard, and stood before what could only
be described as a throne.  Soon the courtyard was filled with a score or
more of women, all of them young and beautiful, each of them kneeling,
their faces all bearing an expression of unaffected rapture at the sight of
their goddess.  They remained kneeling until Aphrodite seated herself, at
which point each of the women in turn rose, came forward, and knelt before
goddess, returning to her place in the courtyard after placing her lips to
Aphrodite's feet.  After a few minutes each of the women had paid homage to
the goddess and all were seated on the ground before her.  Thompson too
seated himself, but did not pay homage as the others, not sure that he was
entitled to touch Aphrodite in the same manner as the women.  Once all were
seated, the goddess spoke.
   "I am pleased to once again visit my hetaera of Cyprus.  Do I find you
all well?"
   "Yes, goddess" the women replied almost in unison.
   "All of you are very presentable, the temple clean and orderly,
everything ready for my arrival even though it has been many months since I
was last here, and so I am pleased with all of you." The hataerae were glad
to hear this - they had heard the stories of the goddess's wrath if things
were not to her liking.
   "I come today not only to visit you, but also with a specific purpose. I
have brought with me someone who is to join your ranks.  I will return in
two weeks' time, when you, Calista, will give me a report of his progress."
   At the sound of her name Calista curtseyed, and tried to suppress the
shudder of fear that ran through her.  As the superior of the temple she
was directly responsible for fulfilling Aphrodite's will, and she knew full
well that she must do everything in her power to give the goddess a good
report - to fail was unthinkable.  The previous leader of the Cypriot
Hataera was, for all Calista knew, was still missing all of her skin,
shrieking in unbearable agony in some far-off location, having displeased
the goddess the year before, and Calista had no intention of suffering a
similar fate.
   Aphrodite rose, and all the women immediately knelt, Thompson hastily
following their example, his head bowed low as the goddess spoke to him.
   "Thompson, of everyone in this temple you are the least in importance,
the lowest in rank.  Any of my hataera may give you instruction, and so far
as you are concerned, each of them speaks with my voice and is to be obeyed
as you would obey me.  Calista, the Superior of this temple, has the
ultimate authority here in my absence.  Do you have any questions before I
go?"
   "None, Goddess." Thompson knew that he was to do as he was told - that
was sufficient for him.
   "Good." And with that, Aphrodite was gone, her form suddenly
evaporating.
   Calista wasted no time.  She turned to Thompson, her long blond hair
flowing in the breeze.  She fixed her perfect blue eyes on him, her gaze
hard.
   "Thompson," she said, using the name she had heard the goddess
pronounce, "you will go with Hecate to be cleansed.  Hecate, take him with
you this instant.  We have but two weeks and not one minute of that time
will be wasted.  Report to me in twenty minutes." Calista spoke with
natural authority, as one accustomed to being obeyed.  Hecate evidently
feared Calista almost as much as Calista feared the goddess, and she
immediately answered in the affirmative, kneeling as she did so, and
kissing Calista's extended hand.  She then turned to Thompson, directing
him to come with her, and he rose immediately, following her from the
courtyard into the cool interior of the house.
   Hecate was a truly gorgeous creature, somewhat reminiscent of the
goddess herself, but of course in a minor key, for no mortal could rival
the beauty of Aphrodite.  Hecate was about 5'8", with long black hair
flowing down her back in waves, her eyes an emerald green.  Her skin had a
dark olive complexion.  She was not as busty as the goddess, but of course
a woman could be rather ample without possessing the goddess's assets in
this regard.  Unlike with Aphrodite, Thompson felt no compunction about
starting at the young woman, enjoying the sight of the girl's beautiful
tight behind moving from side to side as she walked swiftly in front of him
   "Stop staring at my ass, Thompson."
   "Yes, Hecate," said Thompson, staring at the ground immediately. 
"Please forgive my impertinance." He could not see that the young woman was
smiling, in fact struggling not to laugh.  She had assumed the man's gaze
would fall on the most obvious of sights, and from Thompson's response, she
knew she had guessed right.  It amused her to have induced in the man the
notion that she had eyes in the back of her head.
   She took him to the bath, a large room with what to modern eyes appeared
to be a swimming pool, but the water was obviously very warm, for the room
was much warmer than the hallway through which they had walked, and the air
was very humid.
   "Take of your clothes," directed Hecate, and she was pleased to see
Thompson's immediate compliance with her order.  The men the goddess
brought to the temple were always biddable - they would not be alive were
this not the case - but Thompson seem unusually compliant, and Hecate was
pleased, for this boded well for the fulfillment of the goddess's
instructions.  In less than thirty seconds Thompson had stripped off all
his clothes, his hands before his crotch to cover the only partially faded
erection inflicted on him by the sight of Hecate's perfect ass during the
walk to the bath chamber.
   "Get in the water," said Hecate.  "I will get you soap.  Hurry, for we
do not have much time." Thompson entered the bath down a set of stairs,
gasping at the heat of the pool.  When he was a child Thompson had visited
the hot springs at Banff, and this water reminded him of the searing heat
he had experienced on that occasion.  He knew he would not be instructed to
bathe in water that was hot enough to hurt him, and so he strode forward
directly, quickly reaching water up to his chest.  He then submerged
himself to wet his hair, and then stood up, already feeling overheated.  He
moved back towards the staircase, taking the soap from Hecate's hand, her
touch cool in comparison to the heat that surrounded him.  He quickly
soaped himself all over.
   "Your hair, too," said Hecate, and Thompson lathered his hair, then
washed out the soap.  At her direction he emerged from the bath, and she
handed him a towel, telling him to dry his hair.  As he did so, she used
another towel to dry his body, and at her touch, his penis quickly
hardened.
   After Hecate finished drying him, she had him sit down on a marble
bench. He was grateful for the cool temperature of the seat, and even more
grateful when Hecate's head suddenly descended, her mouth opening wide as
she took all of his manhood into her mouth down to the root.  She rapidly
bobbed her head up and down, and in less than thirty seconds, Thompson
gasped in joyous orgasm, spraying jet after jet of thick cum down the
beautiful young girl's throat.
   Hecate ended the blow job as suddenly as she had begun it.
   "When I see a hard cock, I can't resist trying to soften it," explained
Hecate.  "Besides, I think it will make the next stage rather easier for
you, as I have taken the edge off your lust.  Now lie down on the bench
while I fetch the dipilatory cream."
   Thompson did as he was told, lying still as Hecate smothered his body in
a thick oily substance, working the liquid into his hair, his eyebrows, his
face, her hands wandering everywhere.  After a few minutes, she sent
Thompson into the water again, and when he emerged, he was utterly hairless
from head to toe.
   "Good," said Hecate approvingly as she turned him about, staring closely
at his skin.  "You're smooth as a baby." She tossed him a robe, and bade
him follow.  Even though the robe covered him completely, he felt quite
naked without his body hair, feeling the air moving over his crotch in the
absence of any pubic hair to shield him.
   They went back to the courtyard, where Calista was waiting alone.
   "Is he prepared for the next stage?" she asked Hecate.
   "Yes, Hetaera Superior," replied Hecate deferentially.
   "Did I tell you to give him a blow job as well?" asked Calista harshly,
having noticed a small deposit of cum on the girl's garment.
   "No, Hateara Superior," said the girl, her voice quavering.  "I just
thought - "
   "Go fetch your toothbrush and use it to clean the guest room's toilet.
Then go to your room and stay there until morning.  You will have no dinner
tonight."
   "Yes, Hateara Superior," replied Hecate, it not even occuring to her to
seek a diminution in sentence, and of course to quarrel was completely out
of the question.  She ran out of the courtyard instantly.
   Calista turned to Thompson.  "The silly girl obviously couldn't resist
being the one to give you what might be your last blowjob for a very long
time.  I wouldn't have cared, except for the fact that she returned after
21 minutes rather than the 20 I had directed.".
   As Hecate departed, another gorgeous young woman entered the courtyard
at a run, kneeling before Calista.  She was the only redhead Thompson had
noticed of the group, shorter than most of the other women, and very fair.
   "Yes, Sapphira?"
   "The Chamber of Tiresias is now ready, Hateara Superior," said the girl.
   "Good.  Thompson, you will accompany Sapphira to the Chamber.  But
first, tell me your full name."
   "Francis Bernard Thompson," he replied.
   "That's convenient.  When you emerge from the Chamber of Tiresias, you
will henceforth answer to 'Francis' and if asked your name will give that
name only."
   "Yes, Hataera Superior," said Thompson.  He followed Sapphira's example
of kissing Calista's hand before leaving her presence, and then went with
her to a wing of the house, the one opposite the side containing the bath.
The blow job had indeed taken away some of the pent-up lust he had been
feeling from the moment Aphrodite had appeared in his home earlier that
day, but nonetheless he found himself enjoying the site of the pretty
redhead before him - then he remembered leering was perhaps not a good
idea, and tried not to notice the girl's trim, athletic figure.  Sapphira
led him down a corridor.  Thompson happened to glance through an open door
leading to a room where he could hear a noise, and he saw Hecate on her
knees in front of a toilet, scrubbing furiously with a toothbrush, her
previously perfect hair now in disarray from the force of her efforts.
   Sapphira quickly led him deeper into the house, into a small room with
no windows, and what appeared to be a shower stall.  Thompson stepped in as
directed, noticing that there was no shower nozzle.  Sapphira closed the
stall door behind him, and Thompson found himself completely enclosed.
   "Thompson, has it been explained to you for what purpose the Chamber of
Tiresias was constructed?"
   "No," he replied.  "But I think I can guess." Sapphira looked at him
curiously.
   "You know the story of Tiresias, then?"
   "Yes," said Thompson.  He found himself filled with a mixture of
emotions.  "May I ask you a question?"
   "Yes, but be quick."
   "Is this to be permanent, or temporary?"
   "The Chamber of Tiresias can work its effect as many times as the
subject is placed therein," replied the redhead, much to Thompson's relief.
He had no doubt about what was to happen, for according to legend, Tiresias
was a man who, after angering Hera, had for a time, been transformed into a
woman, and thereafter, had served as a prostitute.  The instant he had
heard Sapphira tell Calista that 'the Chamber of Tiresias' was ready, he
had known what was in store for him.  Knowing that the process was
reversible removed the fear he felt, and instead he was filled with
anticipation.
   "Thank you, Sapphira.  I am ready."
   Sapphira stepped out of the room.  A few seconds later, the chamber was
filled with a bright light, and even with his eyes shut tight, Thompson was
somewhat dazzled.  Then the light faded, allowing him to see, and he felt
as if dozens of strong hands were gripping his body, pulling it in
different directions all at once, not painfully, but nontheless he felt
discomfort as he was stretched in some areas, diminished in others.  He
gasped in shock as he felt his manhood shrivel - he looked down, saddened
as he observed what had once been a rather good specimen shrink and
retreat, turning into a small stub, and then quickly disappear into the
folds of skin forming in his nether regions.  Suddenly his view was
partially obstructed by the breasts quickly forming on him, and he found
himself feeling grateful that his nipples had swollen tremendously - he had
always liked Geeta's puffy nipples, and was delighted to see that he was to
get ones like hers.
   He knew he was losing height, and estimated that he was now perhaps
5'8". In fact, Francis (for that was now her name) found herself thinking
of herself as a "she" for the first time.  Her hair quickly grew past her
shoulders, and she delighted in the soft sensation of her tresses flowing
down her back.  She allowed her now slim, feminine hands to wander across
her breasts, then past her now very narrow waist, and then over her now
broad, womanly hips.
   The chamber door opened, and there was Sapphira, handing her a robe.
   "Why hello, Francis!"
   Francis only laughed in reply, delighting in clear treble of her new
voice.  She donned the proferred robe, and as instructed followed Sapphira
out of the chamber and down the hallway.  Again they approached the
bathroom where Hecate was still scrubbing.  Francis slowed only very
slightly as she passed by, calling out and waving as Hecate turned to her.
   "You look beautiful!  What's your name now?"
   "Francis!" she called back as she continued down the hall, for Francis
knew she could not stop, Sapphira not having given permission.  Francis
looked ahead curiously at Sapphira's wiggling backside, wondering what she
would feel.  Unlike her reaction only 15 minutes earlier, she felt no lust
build inside her.  Instead, she felt an almost clinical appreciation of the
redhead's beauty, assessing her as one would a possible rival - not a
hostile rival, but a rival nonetheless.
   I will not bore the reader with a long account of the life of Francis
over the next two weeks, but I will give a few details.  While her body and
mind were those of a woman, Francis had much to learn, for hitherto her
entire life experience was that of a man, and she had to accustom herself
to doing things differently.  For example, the afternoon of the
transformation, she was sent to the kitchen to help the more junior
hataerae prepare dinner, and she was told to open a jar of beets.  Francis
picked up the large jar, noting how much heavier than expected she found
it. And when she tried to open the jar, she could not get the lid to budge
at all - it simply would not move, even though she tried and tried. 
Suddenly she was aware of surpressed giggles, and when she looked up, the
other hataerae all burst into laughter.
   A stunning African girl spoke up.  "I'm Adelph," she said.  She was
still laughing, her teeth a brilliant white in contrast to her jet-black
face.  "We just couldn't wait to see what would happen," she cried, and the
other girls laughed even harder.  Francis found herself laughing along with
them.
   "So what do I do now that I'm not strong enough to open a jar?  I'm
serious - is there a tool I can use?"
   "Yes," replied Adelpha, "and it's called a 'man'.  I suggest you find
one soon.  He'll be useful for all jar opening, reaching things on shelves,
and heavy lifting!"
   Another girl demonstrated how the lid could be loosened by running it
under hot water, causing the lid to expand.  "Ah ha!" said Francis.  "So
there are ways to manage without men!"
   "Yes," replied Adelpha.  "But who wants to manage without men?"
   Francis had other lessons to learn over the next two weeks as well.  She
was had to be taught how to walk and carry herself, because at first she
still strutted about like a man.  She did not know how to eat daintily as a
woman would.  And of course she knew absolutely nothing of female dress,
ancient or modern, and much time was spent on both.  Makeup was a complete
mystery to her, and she was taught both modern techniques and those
practiced by the ancients.  Francis had no idea how to care for hair, and
she was shocked to learn just how much time was required each day to care
for it properly.  Francis' hair was very thick and prone to tangle.  She
soon learned to enjoy the effort it took each day to make her tresses show
to their best advantage.
   Out of curiosity, Hecate one day took the temple's car out of the garage
(she had cleaned the guest toilet to Calista's satisfaction and was no
longer out of favour), and suggested that Francis attempt to parallel park.
Try as she might, Francis simply could not do it.  She was terribly
frustrated, for in her previous incarnation as F.  Bernard Thompson, she
had had no difficulty driving, but now she simply had no proper spatial
sense of how to manoeuvre an object into a fixed space.
   "I didn't think you'd be able to do it," said Hecate.  "Calista's the
only one who's any damn good at it.  I was just curious." That made Francis
feel a bit better.  But she was annoyed again when Hecate allowed her to
take them both out for a short drive, for Francis quickly found herself
somewhat frightened by speed - it just seemed that 50 kilometres an hour
was so very much faster than she remembered it!  Damn damn damn!
   But there were benefits to being a woman, for sure.  For one thing, when
she'd undergone the Tiresias transformation, she had also become younger -
she estimated that her biological age was not more than twenty.  And she
found her body so very much more beautiful and interesting that Thompson
had found his own.  As a male, Thompson had had little interest in his own
form, but as Francis, she found herself always looking at her own
reflection whenever she passed a mirror.  Alone each night in her small
room, she would spend a long time naked before the mirror, assuming various
poses, flipping her hair, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples.  She
aroused herself doing this, and would have masturbated, for she was dying
with curiosity to learn what it was to orgasm as a woman.  But Calista had
been quite clear on this point the very night of her transformation.
   "Under no circumstances are you to stimulate your clitoris - you are
forbidden to orgasm for now - don't worry (she added quickly after seeing
Francis' sad face) this prohibition will not last long, but for now you
simply must accept this." Francis had mutely nodded in acquiescence.
   The two weeks had passed quickly, at least the days, but the nights were
at times difficult after lights out.  When the end of the two weeks neared,
Francis found herself very aroused and had some difficulty sleeping, and
when sleep did come, her dreams were filled with erotic images.
   But finally the two-week training period dictated by Aphrodite was
almost at an end, and all the hataerae were excited because they knew that
the goddess had said she would return after two weeks.  Now it was normal
routine for them to spend every minute of every day under the assumption
that their goddess could appear at any moment, and so they were accustomed
to conducting themselves in such a fashion that they would bring no
discredit to the temple or themselves should the goddess suddenly appear.
But knowing as they did that Aphrodite was due the next day, the hataerae
had thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed every inch of the temple.  Flower
petals were strewn about walkway for the last few hundred yards of the
approach to the temple, and the courtyard too was adorned with bouquets of
every kind.  Each hataera sought to do her utmost to make herself look her
best, and a great feast was prepared as well, a fatted calf killed for the
occasion.  Calista herself cut the throat of the poor beast, saying prayers
to Aphrodite as she did so, the other hateara all present for the ritual,
joining in a chorus at intervals.
   The most nervous of the women were Francis and of course Calista, who
had watched the novice's training with the utmost attention, in order to be
sure that the transformation would be acceptable to the goddess.  Calista
was sure that Aphrodite would be pleased, but given the consequences if
Calista were mistaken in this regard (the goddess's displeasure, punishment
following instantly, harshly and quite possibly for all eternity), Calista
was more than nervous - she was quite terrified, and had lost ten pounds
from her already slim frame in the two week training period.  She retained
her beauty, but her looks had an almost elfin, wraith-like quality about
them.
   The day of the goddess' return arrived, the hataera at the entrance rang
the bell, and all the hataerae assembled in the courtyard to greet
Aphrodite once more.  After having gone so long without seeing her, they
were seeing her the second time in a fortnight, and the sight of her was
food for their souls, for all of them lived for nothing except to please
her.  At the goddess' command, Francis was brought before her, wearing as
was the custom for a new hataera clothes cut in the very fashion of those
used to adorn the statute of Aphrodite kept in the temple's chapel.
   "Francis, disrobe that I may inspect your form more closely."
   Francis unhooked her loose dress, the hataerae behind her catching it
before it hit the ground.  Francis stood proudly before the goddess and all
the hataerae, knowing that her body was a perfect example of feminine
pulchritude.  Aphrodite bade her approach the throne, observing the
novitiate's graceful walk with quiet satisfaction.  On command Francis
slowly twirled, her chestnut hair flowing behind her as she did so.  Her
breasts sagged not at all, and her puffy nipples became erect in the
breeze, catching the attention of the goddess, who examined them closely.
The goddess spoke to Francis quietly, so that the others could not hear.
   "Indeed, Francis, Tiresias' chamber has been more than kind to you. 
Your nipples are of a very rare variety, and most pleasing to men, which is
a good thing, and even more so to me, which of course is far more
important." Aphrodite reached out a hand and gently took hold of a ripe,
full breast, and carefully rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger. 
Francis felt her knees growing weak as she tried not to show her lust.  But
Aphrodite sensed it, her immortal mind effortlessly picking up the dominant
emotion in the young hataera, and the goddess was pleased.  She briefly
toyed with the young woman's other nipple, and then both at the same time.
The other hataera looked on, each wishing that it was she receiving the
attention of their goddess.  But they all knew they were privileged merely
to be in her presence.
   Aphrodite continued to scan Francis' mind, and she could sense in its
configuration no sign at all of any vestige of maleness.  The
transformation was the most perfect she had ever seen, and she had seen
many over the last few millenia.
   "Calista!" she said sharply.
   "Yes, goddess!" said the Superior Hataera, quickly stepping forward, her
voice quavering, her fear obvious.
   "I chose well when I appointed you Superior of this temple.  You have
completely justified the trust I placed in you, for the transformation of
Francis is so good that I pronounce it perfect - a new standard for all
future efforts to match.  So good in fact that I must change my plans for
her this evening - more of that later.  You may approach me, Calista, for
your reward."
   The Superior stepped forward, her feeling of relief so great she almost
fainted.  Aphrodite took her into her arms, holding her tight.  Then she
held Calista's face in her hands, and bent slightly to kiss the mortal full
on the lips.  The kiss went on for a very long time, Calista melting inside
from the pure joy of the moment.  As the kiss continued, the hands of the
goddess wandered over Calista's body, demonstrating ownership of course,
but also tenderness and true affection, along with a bit of heavenly lust.
Calista knew she would remember this moment for the rest of her life - this
was the pinnacle of her existence, never to be surpassed, and she savoured
every second of it.
   Finally, yet all too soon, the embrace ended, and Calista knelt,
touching her hands to the goddess' feet, thanking her for the honour done
to her.
   . . .
   At the feast that evening the goddess had seated Calista on her
right-hand side befitting her status as Superior, and Francis on her left
as a further sign of her satisfaction.  When the feast ended, the goddess
retired to her private chamber, taking Francis with her.
   "As you know tonight is the occasion where you will make a gift of your
virginity.  I had planned on giving your hymen to a mortal with whom I am
particularly well-pleased, but I have had to change my plans.  Your form is
of such perfection that your virginity must not be taken by a mere mortal -
you are fit for a god, and one shall have you tonight."
   Aphrodite's mind could not but detect the leap of ecstasy in the young
hataera's heart as she heard these words.  But the goddess had to
disappoint her novice.
   "No, Francis, I am sorry - I will not take you into my bed tonight,
although I am delighted to see that is your desire - another time I will
take you to me - you have the word of a goddess on that.  But tonight, you
need a male's hardness inside you, and so I have invited one of the most
powerful immortals to my temple tonight.  Hermes shall take your hymen."
   Francis listened, but of course said nothing.  She knew that one did not
actually converse with the goddess the way one would a mortal.  Francis
knew that her role was to listen.  She could not ask a question unless
invited to do so, nor was it her place to express opinions, for she knew
her opinion was of no value whatsoever to Aphrodite.  But the goddess of
course had some sense of what was going on in the minds of mortals, and
Aphrodite detected confusion, and asked what was puzzling Francis.
   "I regret my knowledge of immortals is so weak, goddess, but in my
ignorance I thought that Hermes was much less powerful than many others,
such as Zeus, Ares, Apollo or your husband, Hephaestus."
   "Your knowledge is accurate as of 2,500 years ago, but there have been
changes since then, child, for we immortals draw are strength from you
mortals, and our powers rise and fall with the strength of belief mortals
have in the qualities we represent.  Thus Zeus, formerly the most powerful
of us all, is now so weak some doubt that he even exists - there is such a
lack of respect for the authority of the father than he faded rapidly over
the last few hundred years - women getting the vote may have been his
undoing.
   "And then there's Ares - he has been weakened, but still has a presence
of some kind.  My husband, too, is still here, but rendered impotent by
mortals' lack of respect for him.  But I - I am more powerful than I have
ever been, for there is hardly a mortal in existence who does not believe
in the power of love.  And so now it may be that I am not only the most
powerful immortal now in existence, but perhaps the more powerful than any
immortal ever was.  But I am not sure of this, for omniscience is,
unfortunately, not something I possess.  Yet.
   "Now Hermes has benefited greatly from the changes around us.  He is the
god of mischief, of tricks of all kinds, and therefore of course the god of
lawyers.  He is therefore at his zenith in this litigious world.  I believe
him to be second only to me in power.
   "Now listen with attention, Francis, while I instruct you on how to
conduct yourself.  While I have granted him the ultimate favour on many
occasions, I cannot really advise you on how to make love to him, for it is
a very different thing for a mere mortal to consort with a god.  The main
goal of my instruction is not to make sure that you will please him in bed,
but to save you from being killed in the process.  For the immortal Hermes
has a most capricious personality - he is delightful company much of the
time, but simply awful when he is not in the mood.  You must be very
careful do to nothing - absolutely nothing - which might displease him.
   "While of course he will tolerate a certain shyness on your part
befitting a virgin, he will not put up with very much beyond that.  For
your own sake, you must be as biddable as a woman can be.  His mildest
suggestion to you is an order, and any order a peremptory command.  I know
his tastes well; you need not expect anything demeaning.  But his appetite
is a demanding one, even for a god, and you can expect him to have his fill
of you.  To put matters simply, you will find it difficult to make him
soft, at least for any length of time, and you can expect him to take you
again and again and again.  You must comply with his will, and at all times
be conscious of the great privilege of being permitted to service an
immortal.  Do you understand?"
   "Yes I do, Aphrodite.  Thank you for your instruction, which I will
remember at all times tonight."
   "I am sure you will.  Now to your chambers, and make yourself ready."
   Francis acknowledge her dismissal by kneeling before goddess and
touching her lips to Aphrodite's feet.  She then withdrew and hastened to
her room to prepare.
   Aphrodite summoned Hermes, who joined her in her chambers.  As usually,
he looked magnificent, a couple of inches over six feet, his black hair
short and very curly, his frame muscular.  So masculine and strong, unlike
her crippled and now impotent, useless husband.
   "Hermes, my friend, I have called you here tonight not for myself,
although I must say seeing you makes me have second thoughts.  No, I have
another purpose.  We have a novitiate here, a soon-to-be hataera.  But she
is still a virgin, and she must be broken in.  A truly exceptional
creature, as you shall soon see, for I invite you to take the girl's hymen
and add it to your trophy collection.  How many have you deflowered, now?"
   "The number exceeds 20,000, Aphdrodite - I am not sure by how much.  But
I never tire of experience, as you well know, and I thank you for your
invitation."
   "Very good.  Her name, by the way, is Francis.  And Hermes - I know I am
foolish to ask this of you, but nonetheless I do - please be as gentle with
her as your nature permits you to be, for there is a soft spot in this
immortal heart for her, and I would hate to lose her as a sacrifice to your
unbelievable lust and virility." By way of reply Hermes only smiled.
   Aphrodite opened the door to the waiting area just outside her chambers,
where, at all times when Aphrodite was staying at the temple, a hataera was
on duty, always attentive and ready to do as ordered.
   "Fetch Calista, " said the goddess not even looking in the young girl's
direction.
   "Immediately, goddess," said the girl, hastening on her errand.  Calista
came shortly thereafter, the young hataera following her.  Calista stopped
outside the chamber door and knelt.
   "You sent for me, Aphrodite?"
   "You may enter." Calista walked in, her eyes on the floor.  "We have
another guest tonight.  You are to escort him to Francis' room, and to
remain outside her door and attend to any of her needs or that of the
guest. Enjoy your evening, Hermes."
   Calista looked up in surprise - this was only the second time she had
been in the presence of two immortals at the same time, the first a
never-to-be forgotten occasion when Hermes and Hera had both enjoyed her at
the same time.  And here again was Hermes, and she longed for him,
remembering the unending string of rapturous orgasms she had experienced at
his hands.
   "Calista, I too have fond memories of you," said the god, sensing her
thoughts.  "How are you doing in my friend's temple?"
   "Oh very well my lord and I am so happy to see you!"
   "Apparently I am not to enjoy you tonight, but perhaps another time. 
Lead on!"
   He followed Calista from Aphrodite's chamber and into the hallway. 
Calista took a shortcut through the courtyard, but had gone only a few
steps when Hermes took her hand, and pulled her to him, his mouth on hers,
his hands wandering over her body.  She gasped in surprise, throwing her
head back as the god's lips began to kiss her neck.
   "Oh my lord oh oh oh " she gasped.  What a day this had been!  Kissed by
Aphrodite herself earlier, and now Hermes, the best lover she had ever
experienced.  Immediately she was so wet, so inviting, so aroused and eager
to be taken "Hermes you beast stop that right now!" Aphrodite's voice
interrupted them, for the her chambers had a window looking directly out to
the courtyard.  "I knew you'd not be able to resist.  You can take Calista
any time you want.  But leave her for now and content yourself for Francis.
Calista, return here immediately after you direct Hermes to his
destination, and tell Hecate that she is to attend outside Francis' room
tonight."
   "Yes, Aphrodite!" said Calista, her ardour immediately cooled down by
the fear of invoking the goddess' wrath.  She ran ahead of Hermes a few
steps and then walked quickly, which the god found highly amusing - as if a
mere mortal could outrun the fleetest of the gods!  But he kept his
distance, not wanting the poor girl to get in trouble with her mistress.
   Calista arrived at Francis' door, and knocked before entering.
   "My lord the god Hermes is arrived," said Calista, stepping aside for
the handsome immortal to make his entrance.  Francis immediately dropped to
both knees, stretching her hands out before here in the act of obeisance
which, while of course mandatory for her, was nonetheless full of
unmistakable sincerity.
   Hermes dismissed Calista, who closed the door behind her, and the god
stepped forward.
   . . .
   Calista ran as fast as she could back to Aphrodite's chambers, after
first telling a passing hataera to have Hecate stand watch outside Francis'
room for the night.  The goddess had said for her to return "immediately",
and Calista knew that was to be taken literally.  Absent the ability to
transport herself from place to place like an immortal, the best Calista
could do was sprint through the courtyard, careless of the obstacles in the
darkness.  In no time at all she had returned, and Aphrodite ordered her
into her chambers.
   "Now Calista, what did you do to tempt my friend Hermes to try to take
you?  You knew he was intended for someone else tonight!"
   "Oh please goddess I did nothing to tempt him, I promise you!  I am very
sorry at what happened please forgive me but I promise you I did nothing to
encourage him!  I beg you not to be angry with me, Aphrodite, I basked in
your favour earlier today and the thought that your are in any way
displeased with me makes me want to die of regret!"
   The goddess sensed the young woman's sincerity.  She could not be blamed
for inciting Hermes' lust - he needed next to nothing to inflame him.
   "I see you are sincere, my child.  Come here and Aphrodite will comfort
you.  And perhaps you may need to comfort me, as well."
   Calista got onto Aphrodite's bed.  To her surprise, Aphrodite picked up
a remote control, and turned on the t.v.  - it showed a nervous Francis in
Hermes' presence.
   "When Francis is in the close presence of another god, especially a
powerful one like Hermes, I am unable to protect her.  Once Hermes entered
her room and closed the door, Francis is entirely in his charge, and I
cannot interfere.  Should Hermes choose to treat Francis cruelly, it is
impossible for me to intervene.  I could take revenge, but I could not
rescue her.  All I can do then is watch and remember.  And at least if
something goes wrong, Hermes will not be able to lie about what happened."
   Calista wondered briefly why Aphrodite had permitted Hermes access to
Francis, if she was worried for the girl's safety.  But she dismissed the
thought, for she knew that to immortals, losing a favourite human was not
much worse than a human losing his pet dog.
   * * *
   "You may rise, Francis, and approach me." Francis did as instructed,
moving quickly to comply with the god's order.  In her previous existence
as F.  Bernard Thompson, Francis had had sex many times, but in her new
state her previous experience seemed almost dreamlike, as if it were
something she had watched others doing and not experienced herself.  She
was thus in every respect a virgin, not knowing what to expect - hesitant,
scared, yet eager all at once.
   The god instructed her to disrobe, and so she did, the garment spilling
to the floor at her feet.  While she could feel her face blushing at the
exposure of her body, she was thrilled that the first male to see it was no
ordinary man but Hermes himself.  And she could see that the god enjoyed
what he saw, for he quite obviously was beginning to grow erect, a small
tent forming under his robe.  The tent grew and grew.  And grew.  And grew
some more.
   Hermes undid his belt, and invited Francis to remove his robe.  She did
so, and gasped in terror, for the god's phallus was absurdly huge - easily
18 inches long, with a proportional circumference.  She could not help
taking a step backward in horror, one hand to her mouth.
   "Oh my lord!" she said, unable to conceal her shock.
   Hermes laughed, for even though he had done this trick thousands of
times, he never tired of the dismay it caused in young virgins, older women
or even experienced prostitutes.  As he stood nude before the girl, he
allowed his erection to swell even more, and in no time his enormous cock
was pointed almost straight up, virtually parallel with his body, despite
the organ's incredible size.  He watched with great amusement as Francis
backed up another step, bumped into the bed and suddenly sat down.  At
first she seemed unable to take her eyes from the gigantic penis.  Then she
covered up her eyes in fear.
   "You have nothing to fear, Francis.  There is a way to bring him down in
size.  He will still be huge, but at least to fuck you will not be fatal.
Do you want me to explain how?"
   "Oh yes oh yes please Hermes tell me!" said Francis, desperate to know
what to do.
   "All that is needed is this, that you pay homage to the cock's master,
me.  If the cock is satisfied, you will see him shrink to a more manageable
size."
   "But what I must I say?  What must I do?"
   "All you need to do to reduce him is acknowledge me as your only
master."
   But this Francis knew she could not do.  Her life was now irrevocably
committed to Aphrodite - to acknowledge anyone, even a god, as her sole
master, was a betrayal of the goddess.  Thanks to the gift the goddess had
given her two weeks earlier, Francis knew, simply by asking herself what
the goddess would prefer Francis to do, that Aphrodite would want to see
Francis refuse the suggestion made to her.  The will of Aphrodite was to
Francis the perfect lodestone, and having divined the goddess' will, there
was no need to contemplate the matter at any length.  Francis knew she must
refuse Hermes' suggestion, and suffer the consequences.  But perhaps was a
way out.  If the god would only order Francis to acknowledge his
suzerainty, Francis would be saved, for the goddess had clearly ordered
Francis to obey every order of Hermes.  Thus her submission to him would be
involuntary, and would not later cause Francis to incur the wrath of
Aphrodite.
   "My lord, thank you for telling me!.  Yes of course I shall do as you
order - I hasten to obey you.  Are my words of submission to take any
particular form?"
   "None, child - I am sure you can come up with appropriate wording.  But
you must not misunderstand me.  I have not ordered you to do anything.  I
have merely told me what you must do if you are to cause my immortal
manhood to shrink, thus saving your life.  The choice is entirely yours."
It had been a long time since Hermes had been born yesterday, and he knew
exactly what Francis was about.  It angered him exceedingly that this mere
mortal would try to play word games with him.  If she thought she should
fear Aphrodite's wrath more than his, perhaps he should teach her the error
of her ways.  And sure enough, Francis' next answer revealed that he had
the measure of her.
   "My lord, it is not for me, a mere mortal, to exercise choice in the
presence of the great immortal Hermes!  I am here only to obey your every
command!"
   "My command then is this: choose as you will, freely, and accept the
consequences." His penis had grown even greater during this exchange.
   "But I cannot acknowledge you as my sole master, for the goddess owns me
- that which is owned cannot give itself to another."
   "She left you with free will," replied Hermes.  "She does not own your
mind."
   "If she does not own me, then she has a mortgage on me."
   "Mortgages can be redeemed, silly woman!" said Hermes.
   "Yes, but in what coin shall I repay the goddess for the mercy, the
kindness, the generosity she has given me?  How could a mere mortal ever
truly return the favours of a goddess?  Were I an immortal perhaps there
would be sufficient years remaining to me to acknowledge all the goddess
has done for me, but absent that, I must remain forever in her debt.  But -
there is one way at least I can try to repay Aphrodite.  If I but refuse to
acknowledge you as my sole master, you will kill me, and I can only hope
that the goddess will know that I died of my own choice, and that my death
is my poor attempt at thanking her for the unbelievable honour she has done
me.!"
   Aphrodite and Calista were watching this exchange on the television, and
by now Calista was in tears, the goddess hugging her.
   "Brave, brave girl!" exclaimed Aphrodite.  "If she but survives the
night, I will count her among most loyal.  But if Hermes slays her, I will
transport her to Elysium, where she will live an eternity in pure bliss!"
   But Aphrodite need not have worried.  Hermes was struck by the young
woman's loyalty to her goddess.  If only his own followers were such,
thought the god.  But he counted among his worshipers principally thieves,
liars, rogues and lawyers, and Hades was filled with the souls of those who
had angered Hades through their disloyalty.  He scanned the girl's mind and
sensed that the young woman was entirely sincere - Francis did not think
for a minute that Hermes was not in earnest, and she believed completely
that her choice would lead to her death.  If she had had any thoughts about
Hermes' intentions, he would have shown her immediately how sincere he was,
and ended her life by thrusting into her his club-like organ to the hilt,
and her dying shriek would have compensated him for the lack of sexual
pleasure that evening.  Ever the trickster, Hermes knew when tricks were
being played on him.  The moment Aphrodite had begun to observe him with
hidden cameras in the room, he had been aware of it.  He decided he would
exploit this for a trick of his own.
   "The only way you will survive the night, you foolish girl, is if you
refrain from begging me to fuck you.  The moment you ask for my cock to go
in you, it shall, and at that very moment, you will die." Francis began to
sob with fear at these words.  But the the god stood over the girl, and
took her head firmly in her hands, and then whispered in her ear.
   "I order you to forget the conversation we have just had.  In its place,
you will remember this, that I told you that no woman had ever been able to
last an hour with me before she begged me to fuck her, and that if you
could last an hour, you would receive a great reward and that Aphrodite
would be pleased with you."
   Communicating with Francis in this fashion, Hermes completely dominated
her mind, wiping out the threats and demands he had made.  The girl no
longer perceived herself to be in any danger, and nor was she, for Hermes
had decided that he would let her live.  But Aphrodite did not know this,
and she watched her television screen with apprehension at the events which
followed.
   Francis lay face-down on the bed when instructed by Hermes, and was
motionless while the god began gently to massage her.  He spent at least 20
minutes gently rubbing her back, her neck, her legs and feet, before moving
on to her ass, which Francis interpreted as a prelude to Hermes getting
down to serious business.  But after spending only a minute or so on
Francis' firm behind, the god began working on the girl's lower back, and
Francis thought that the commencement of proceedings had been put off for
the moment.  BUt suddenly she felt the god's hand move down her ass again,
and he cupped her mons veneris.
   Hermes found that the girl was very, very wet, as he expected.  He
gently placed his finger over her clitoris, but did nothing more to
stimulate it.  He left his hand there, and continued to massage the girl's
back with his other hand.
   Francis could not believe how good the god's touch felt.  She was
melting around Hermes' hand, her very core dissolving in a passion such as
she had never felt.  Her memories of her sexual experiences as a man were
dim, but she was sure she had never experienced anything like this.  But it
was to get better.
   Hermes gently turned the girl over, and suddenly his mouth was on hers,
she responding eagerly to him.  She found herself thrusting her pelvis at
the god's hand, her body urgently trying to create more friction.  But when
she pushed forward to create more pressure, Hermes relaxed his grip, and so
the net gain was nothing - his hand continued to rest lightly on her clit,
and the heat inside Francis continued to build inexorably.  And now his hot
mouth began to work on her neck and ear while his free hand gently stroked
a nipple.  Francis gasped with pleasure and arched her back, pushing her
chest up at him.  At this, he bent his head low, and slowly took one of her
puffy nipples into her mouth.
   "Oh my lord oh yesssss," hissed Francis, shocked at just how good it
felt to have her nipple sucked - it felt wonderful of course in her nipple,
but somehow the sucking action greatly increased the pleasure and heat
under Hermes's hand at her crotch.  Her need was becoming urgent now. 
Boldly she searched for his hard cock with one hand, easily finding it. 
Now his penis was no longer the monstrosity Hermes had presented when he
first entered the room - he had allowed it to return to its normal 8 inch
length.  Of course he had wiped Francis' memory of the initial sight of the
exaggerated version of his cock, and so the girl had no idea what her hand
would find.  And finding 8 rock-hard inches was plenty enough for Francis.
   But Aphrodite did not know that the god Hermes had decreased his organ's
size - her camera placements in the room were somehow not quite in the
right position to see, and Hermes had also lowered the light so her view
was not the clearest.  But what she could see disturbed her, for Francis
was obviously responding to the god's technique.  The girl's oh so white
skin was turning red in various places, a clear indication of sexual
stimulation.  Francis was clearly enjoying the nipple work to which she was
being subjected, and the way her hips writhed at the god's touch revealed
without question that Francis was enjoying what was being done.  Then the
goddess spoke to Calista, sitting next to her on the bed and watching the
blurry images on the t.v.  screen.
   "Calista, I find myself in the unusual position of having to ask a
mortal something.  You and I have both enjoyed the god's favours, but as an
immortal the experience would be rather different for me that it would be
for you.  Tell me then, what chance do you think Francis has of resisting
the god?  Will he be able to bring her to the point where she begs to be
fucked, and is thereby destroyed?"
   "Goddess, I know that if I were her, I doubt I could resist my lord the
god Hermes.  For my experience with him was rapture beyond anything I could
possibly describe.  When he made love to me, I begged and begged and begged
him - he reduced me to nothing in very little time at all."
   "I thought you would tell me something like that.  But perhaps Francis
will be better able to resist."
   But on the other hand, perhaps not, thought Calista.  And now Hermes'
head began to work down Francis' torso, and suddenly the god's mouth was on
the girl's vaginal entrance, his tongue light as a hummingbird on Francis'
clitoris.
   "Oh god oh god!" screamed Francis.  "Oh yes don't stop my lord oh please
keep licking me oh godddddddd!" Her hips began to buck up and down wildly,
the tempo increasing even more when the god's hands each cupped a breast
and his fingers began gently to tweak her nipples.  When he sensed the
young girl nearing her climax (and this he was easily able to do - he had
vast experience in such things, and in any event Francis' mind was so easy
to read in this regard that he knew better than she how close she was to
orgasm), he backed off, not completely ending his pleasuring of the girl,
but reducing his activity to the barest fluttering of his tongue on her. 
Each time this happened, Francis attempted to grind her hips into Herme's
mouth, but the god easily held her back.  Each time he waited for the
crisis to pass, and then began to work on her again.  The intervals between
her almost-orgasms grew shorter and shorter, and now he placed a finger at
her entrance.
   "Oh yes put it in me yes!" exclaimed Francis, and Hermes obliged,
gradually inserting his finger further and further into the very slick but
very, very tight virginal passageway.  He felt Francis' hymen with
satisfaction.  It was the god's great pleasure to take hymens - he was sure
no god had taken so many as he, and of course no mortal could rival him. 
He pulled his finger back, feeling the young girl's vaginal muscles
contract, trying to keep him inside her - he could feel her disappointment
when his digit finally escaped from her grasp.
   He changed position, placing his cock at the head of the girl's
entrance, and began now to suck on her nipples in turn, while holding his
cock and rapidly vibrating the head of it on the girl's clit.  When he
sensed that once again the girl was ready to cum, he stopped, and moved his
rock-hard penis down, ready to thrust into her.  Francis pushed and pushed,
trying to get the god inside of her.
   "Do you want me to fuck you now, Francis?"
   "Oh yes my lord please oh yes fuck me!"
   "You must beg me to fuck you."
   "I do beg you Hermes oh please fuck me take my virginity!"
   Aprhrodite and Calista both heard these words with horror.  "No
Francis!" yelled Aphrodite.  "You must resist!"
   But Francis could not hear her goddess.  and she continue to beg and
plead for the god's hard cock, and finally he obliged, at first inserting a
few inches until he was in contact with the young mortal's hymen.
   "Do you feel me at the barrier inside you?"
   "Oh yes, oh yes!" she cried.
   "Shall I go further?  Perhaps you have changed your mind."
   "No I haven't no please fuck me fuck me oh please oooo ohhhhhho
oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed Francis as she felt the god
oblige her, his hardness shattering her hymen, the pain nothing compared to
the exquisite relief of feeling his shaft finally penetrate deeply inside
of her.  The god rode her easily, thrusting in and out repeatedly.
   "Damn that silly Hermes!" cried Aphrodite in a mixture of releif and
anger.  "I don't know how he does it.  He's been playing tricks on me since
the dawn of time, and still I am fooled!  One day I must play a trick on
him!" She laughed, and turned off the t.v., and took Calista to her.  Now
that she knew Francis was safe, it was time to attend to her own need,
which had become very great.
   * * *
   The evening was a long one for Francis.  The first time the god made
love to her, he brought her to a mind-shattering orgasm of such intensity
that almost lost consciousness, her arms wrapped around the god's powerful
back, her legs tightly around his waist as he rode her and rode her
seemingly forever before he finally came, shooting into her with such force
that she could feel the wetness jetting from him.  And it was not long
before they made love a second time, for Hermes never really softened up
after the first time.  And Francis again eagerly welcomed him, again in the
missionary position, delighted to be so close to him, dominated by him,
loving him, wishing the night would go on forever.
   After the second time, Francis slept awhile.  Perhaps the god did, too,
but she wasn't sure.  All she knew is that after a time, perhaps an hour,
she awoke to his attentions.  But now she was a bit sore - she had the
thought that the second time around the god was even larger than before,
but didn't know how that could be possible.  She wanted to be close to him,
but was not really interested in more pleasure.  But she remembered
Aphrodite's instruction to her, which in any event agreed with her own
inclination, which was to be an obedient, willing and submissive, doing
whatever the god Hermes wanted of her.  And so she had as instructed taken
the god into her mouth, enjoying the obvious pleasure it gave him to
service him in this fashion.  After she had slept a short while, the god
had taken her again.  While the first two times he had made love to her,
the third time he did not - instead he just fucked her.  He took her
doggie-style, one hand holding her hips in placed, the other holding her
long hair like a rider would a horse's reins.  Her body rewarded her for
her act of submission, granting her yet another tumultuous orgasm.
   But the fourth session which followed perhaps an hour later was not
love-making by any stretch of the imagination, nor a mere fuck.  It was
more like rape than anything else.  Hermes' lust was insatiable, and he
wanted the girl again.  She wanted nothing - now she was very sore, and she
was quite sure that each time the god fucked her, he increased the size of
his cock, and in way was taking her virginity again each time he fucked
her, entering uncharted passages each time.  The god knew she wanted no
part of him this last time, but he noted her ready compliance to his will.
She spread her legs immediately at his touch, and instead of resisting in
any way, Francis with eagerness grabbed his now eleven-inch cock and placed
it at the entranced to her vagina.  Her eagerness was quite unfeigned - not
that she was eager for sex, but rather to please Hermes.  And so in no time
Hermes was again inside the girl to the very hilt, his cock now nudging at
the poor girl's cervix, she struggling not to cry in pain as he fucked her
with quick, brutal strokes.  There was to be no orgasm this time for her,
she thought to herself.  But she was mistaken, for Hermes sensed the
feelings going through her mind, and slowed his piston-like thrusts, and
also allowed his penis to assume a more reasonable length and girth. 
Suddenly he lifted the girl up, and moved onto his back, and now Francis
began to ride Hermes on top.  He held her just so, and drummed against her
g-spot with the head of his cock, and in no time Francis screamed in
delight as she experienced her first g-spot ogasm, liquid flooding from her
as she came and came and came, her extacsy rendering her incapable of
speech.
   Afterwards, as she lay nestled in Hermes' arms, she silently thanked
Aphrodite for sending Hermes to her as her first lover.  But suddenly a
thought occured to her.  Surely no lover would ever be able to live up to
the god Hermes - was she not ruined for life?  The god picked up her
troubled state of mind, and prompted Francis to explain her thoughts.  The
god was pleased with the girl, and decided to reward her.
   "Only Aphrodite can help you find your true love," said Hermes.  "But I
give you this gift, that when you find your destinity - your soulmate, as
you mortals say nowadays - you will feel with him the same passion as you
did with me." Francis was profuse in her thanks, and was so grateful that
when the god took her yet again, this time anally, she felt no resentment
whatsoever.
   But the next day Calista was not so sure when Francis gave her a
detailed account of the night's activities, including the god's gift to
her.
   "Yes, it does seems like Hermes favoured you with his gift.  But perhaps
things are not so simple as you think.  Have you considered just how
unlikely it is that you will find your 'soulmate'?  Had you not been told
by Hermes that you would receive god-like sex from your true love, then you
would have been content with the usual pleasure most men and women could
give you.  But now you will search, perhaps forever, for the person with
whom you are best matched.  You might hop from bed to bed for the rest of
your life and not find what you are looking for.  But you might as well get
started looking," she added.
   "Yes, Calista, you're right.  But where could I possibly find such a
person?" replied Francis with a smile, reclining on the bed and sighing as
she felt Calista's lips move down her body, wasting little time in taking
Francis' clit into her mouth.  The orgasms that followed were wonderful,
but not of the quality that she had enjoyed with Hermes.
   "Sorry, Calista, that was fabulous, but I don't think you're the one!"
said Francis.  Calista was not much troubled by this, and even less
troubled after Francis returned the favour.
   While Calista and Francis pleasured each other, Aphrodite was rather
busy in her private chambers.  She and Hermes had a longstanding
arrangement - if he succeeded in playing a trick on her, then she had to
allow him to have his way with her as a reward.  On the other hand, if ever
fell in love, he would have to subjugate himself to her forever.  They had
made this bet several millenium before, when they were both rather new at
being immortals, and she did not realize that she would lose the bet over
and over and over again.  Never had Hermes truly fallen in love with
anyone, while countless times he had trickedte in one way or another, and
so the bet turned out to be a very bad one indeed for the goddess, or
rather would have been bad were it not for the fact that it bothered her
not at all to be the sex object for Hermes, whom she found most fetching.
It had been a bit embarrasing at first, for in the old days on Mount
Olympus, Hermes sometimes would claim his reward in public, requiring that
she service him in the presence of the other gods.  Now Zeus enjoyed such
treats greatly, but Aphrodite's husband, Hephaestus, did not.  He had
complained bitterly to Zeus about Hermes fucking his wife, but the father
god's ruling had been prompt and doubtless correct: the arrangement between
Aphrodite and Hermes predated the goddess' wedding vows, and was not a
contract that was wiped out by a subsequent marriage.  And so from time to
time, Hephaestus had had to submit to seeing his wife fucked before his
very eyes.  The only thing she had not been happy about was being fooled
yet again by the god, for this meant that she had had to go down before him
on bended knees, not to worship him of course, but instead to give him a
blowjob of truly divine quality, after which the god fucked her repeatedly
and triumphantly.
   On this occasion, there was no one to witness the goddess' subjugation
to Hermes, and so the god alone had the pleasure of watching copious
amounts of his divine sperm spray on the Aphrodite's face.  Only he got to
watch her carefully gather every drop of cum and swallow it.  When she was
finished, she kissed his still-hard cock, and said the words required by
their bet: "Thank you Hermes for allowing me to service you."
   * * *
   The next day Francis learned that she was to be returned home, but still
as Francis.  This will be explained in the next installment of this story,
if the first installment attracts enough interest.
   
  
Tales of Geeta 7 - the introduction of Aphrodite (Mf, Ff, supernatural, trans, transformation