WHO: Peitho, Patroclus, Hermes WHAT: a goddess on the prowl WHEN: Friday night WHERE: A bar in Manhattan and then Peitho's apartment WARNINGS: Rape
Peitho was often to be found in a bar or club come a Friday night, looking for new conquests. It wasn't that she lacked for partners - she had dozens upon dozens she could call who would come happily running to do anything she asked - but sometimes she just craved newness, the taste of something untouched by her yet.
Peitho never went home alone and she never failed to have whoever she desired. That was her gift and it had served her across times and nations, and tonight she carried it with her into the quiet music of this latest club, the sort of place businessmen might like to wind down their week and maybe catch the eye of a nearby lady.
Clad in pink satin, Peitho made her way to the bar where she ordered a drink before smiling at the immortal sitting near to her. "Hello there, beautiful."
Patroclus had taken to frequenting bars a lot after Achilles had admitted that he had slept with Briseis. He wanted to discuss it with Bri but even more than that, he wanted to be drunk and not think about his feelings for Achilles at all.
It wasn't out of the ordinary for people to hit on Patroclus. He wasn't full of himself but he knew he was attractive. He usually politely declined, but this woman was an immortal and she felt...different somehow.
"Hi," he said, offering her a winning smile. "Nice night."
Peitho slowly cast her eyes down his form and then back to his eyes, asking: "have we had the pleasure to meet before? I feel I'd remember you. Not a god, by the feel of it, but a once mortal perhaps?"
Knowing she was an immortal too, Patroclus felt safe to admit who he was. "Not a god, a warrior. Patroclus, cousin to Achilles. And don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you either.
She perked up when he mentioned who he was and what he used to do. "It's a pleasure, warrior. Your kind delight me." And it was true, they did. Her favourites were always the warriors, the strong beefy kind who could tear down walls with their hands. She'd made it her mission to collect all the great heroes, and not just of their pantheon.
"Peitho," she told him as she took her drink in hand. "Nymph-goddess and wife of Hermes." She didn't say what she was goddess over, but he was Greek himself and in their ancient tongue her very name meant 'persuasion'.
Patroclus knew who she was instantly, but to him it didn't seem to matter what she presided over. They were just talking, weren't they? "Hermes has been kind to me in the past. A humbling pleasure, Peitho. Can I get you a drink?"
Peitho lifted the drink in her hand to eye level between them and smiled. "I'm sure I'll let you buy me another after this though," Peitho said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning in a little closer. "Unless we leave before then."
Something in his brain told him he should now inform Peitho he was in a relationship,but the words died in his throat and instead what he said was, "I could buy you breakfast instead," which was the kind of cheesy line he heard while bartending and it made him roll his eyes. What was happening?!
"Cheesy," Peitho said, but she was smiling as she downed the drink, having found her toy for tonight. She stood, putting her glass back down on the bar, and leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Then let's go back to my place, Patroclus. I want to ride you like you're my stallion, until your whole body dissolves in pleasure."
And again he tried to say he couldn't do such a thing, as he loved another woman. Even as he thought it, he found himself standing up so he could finish off his drink and reach for his light jacket.
She's Peitho, she's doing this on purp-
"Lead the way," he said with a smile.
Beneath the surface Peitho could feel a reluctance within Patroclus, but that had never been something that stopped her. She never much cared in the end what other people wanted, only what she wanted.
She pressed her lips to Patroclus' and forced upon him the strength of her power. Tonight he was hers. Smirking she drew back. "I live about a block from here, come on."
He followed her like a loyal little puppy, half eager for his treat and half horrified that his body was putting one foot in front of the other traitorous foot. His reluctance was only subconscious when it was there at all, and it never showed on the outside. He was all smiles as he held the doors open for her as they walked.
In the elevator up to the apartment, Peitho unbuttoned his shirt, dragging her nails delicately over his skin as she kissed his throat. Peitho's truest powers of ownership lay in her words and so she kept whispering promises of the things she was going to do to him once they got inside, of the things she'd make him feel, of the things he would do to her.
They reached her floor and Peitho almost dragged him out onto the landing and two her door, light-headed with lust and smiling like a jungle cat. She unlocked the door and pulled him inside, kissing him ferociously.
Everything she was doing to him silenced further that voice inside him reminding him this was a bad idea. When she whispered promises to him, he wanted them. No, he needed them.
He nearly fell on top of her in his haste to kiss her as she pulled him into her apartment. The moment the door was closed he was frantically trying to pull his shirt off to finish the job she had started in the elevator.
Once that shirt was gone and let him help to pull her dress off, leaving the stringy lingerie beneath.
Peitho pushed the warrior backwards and down onto the antique fainting couch - almost all of Peitho's furniture was purchased with the idea of how well it would work to have sex on - and straddled him.
She was kissing his throat and working on his fly when she felt her husband. Peitho lifted her head just enough to meet his eye, her expression devious and her mass of dark hair a wild veil. "Hello lover," she purred.
The sight of Peitho's lingerie made Patroclus growl low in his throat and he spread his fingers wide across her skin, settling his hands on her hips.
Hermes smiled widely at his wife and the expression only deepened when he recognised the figure on her fainting couch. "You brought home a warrior," he said,pleased.
Just the small break in her attentions was enough for Patroclus' common sense to break through. "W-wait no," he said, reaching up to wipe at his mouth. "No, I can't do this. I have a... I love someone else."
"Shh," Peitho said, leaning to kiss his lips. She could feel his will beneath and it annoyed her a little. She was so used to mortals, utterly pliable creatures in her hands. In Ancient Greece she had almost any god she wanted do anything she liked, but now she was so unremembered. It hurt.
Her words were low and whispered against the hot flush of his skin. "You want to make me happy, remember? You want nothing but me, Patroclus." She reached behind her to unclip her bra, tossing it aside and bringing on of his hands to her breasts. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
"Mmm, yes," Patroclus purred, leaning in to kiss her breasts, his protests forgotten. Perhaps if he didn't believe so very much in the powers of the Greek pantheon it wouldn't have worked as well as it was, but he believed in them absolutely. Her powers would work on him because he believed they could.
Hermes loved watching his wife work. He stepped over to her and as Patroclus kissed her breasts he leaned in and kissed her neck. "May I play too?"
Peitho smiled, tilting her neck as Hermes kissed it. "Of course," Peitho said to her husband, feeling in a very good mood tonight, enough that she would share her toy when that wasn't always the case.
She wrapped her fingers in Patroclus' hair, drawing him gently back from her own skin and smiling. "You want Hermes to join us, baby?" Her words were a spell. "Kiss him for me." She wanted to be pressed between these two exquisite men, one whom she loved beyond everything else and the other who she would likely have forgotten within a few days.
The words 'please no' were on his lips, but when Peitho requested he kiss Hermes, Patroclus complied.
Hermes had removed his shirt the moment Peitho agreed, and he had knelt on the couch, moving them all so they fit as a trio. He kissed the warrior back, pressed up against Peitho and never taking his hands off his wife's curves for a moment.
Peitho untied the lace sides of her underwear, leaving on the garters and stockings. Seeing Hermes enjoying himself - whether with men or women - always made Peitho horny, even when it wasn't already a heated situation.
Her husband. Her sexy, delicious, so perfect husband. A flash of jealousy caught her, not truly at being upset that someone else was kissing him, but simply the sudden need that his lips be on her own. Her attention left Patroclus entirely then, everything focusing only on Hermes as she grabbed his face and tore him away from kissing the mortal warrior to kiss her instead.
Kissing his beautiful wife was never something Hermes minded. She was one of two people on the planet he truly loved. Sure he liked a few people but Peitho was different. She was the air in his lungs. He kissed her with abandon, twining his fingers into her hair and pulling her against him, the warrior forgotten.
The influence left Patroclus so quickly that one moment he was kissing an Olympian and the next, his inner monologue became outer. "-can't do this!" It took him another moment to realise he had verbalised that thought. Then he scrambled to get away, landing awkwardly on the floor in his haste.
"Your toy is escaping," Hermes said, as he traced Peitho's jawline with his teeth.
Peitho's laugh was throaty and she turned her gaze lazily toward Patroclus, meeting his eye. "Stay," she said to him, reaching out one elegant hand without moving from her husband's embrace. "Come kiss me, warrior."
She felt somewhat unconnected to the earth around her, no longer anchored in the physical. She put it down to Hermes' touch, but it was a feeling she wasn't used to.
Patroclus felt a tiny flickering of desire to do exactly as she asked, but it wasn't strong enough to dissuade his panic. "No! Stop it! I don't want this!"
Very rarely did Hermes ever show his considerable temper, but hearing someone refuse his wife stirred his wrath. His eyes darkened and he kissed Peitho before saying, "you owe me. Do as she says, mortal."
"I can't!" And Patroclus scrambled away.
Inside Peitho was growing panicked at her lack of control, but she was talented at schooling her appearance to be what it needed to be. Nothing showed on the surface but amusement. She drew away from Hermes and turned properly to Patroclus. "You're being silly," she said to him. "You know you want this. You came here wanting this, wanting me, you won't deny me." Those last words were filled with all the power she could muster but even as she said them they felt weak.
Patroclus had to struggle to keep her influence off of him. It was enough to halt his progress away from the couple, but not enough to make him comply. "NO!" he shouted at them, winding his fingers into his hair. "Stop it, stop!"
Peitho pursed her crimson lips, her adoring gaze turning to a glare. She stood, striding towards him and grabbing Patroclus' face in both of hands. "Nobody denies us," she hissed.
She turned to look at Hermes, gaze demanding and expectant. If Patroclus wouldn't submit to her under coercion, then he would submit by force - a concept Peitho was no stranger to. When together with Bia, the two of them presided over such things. But Bia wasn't here now, so Hermes would have to be her Force.
Hermes followed his wife, suddenly snarling at the weakling mortal who whimpered up at them. "Shall I hold him for you, my love?" he asked, waiting to be directed by her. He would do anything she wanted. No one denied his wife.
Patroclus stared into Peitho's eyes, terrified. How had he let this happen? Helen was going to leave him. Achilles was going to pity him. He was a warrior but when facing an Olympian, he stood no chance. "Please don't," he whispered, but he did his best not to make his begging sound as pathetic as he felt.
"You always know what I want," Peitho smiled at Hermes, letting her husband hold Patroclus while she moved to take him in her mouth, to make him hard. Even as he said no to her and begged, his body responded to what she was doing. Soon she moved, straddling the warrior and moaning as he entered her.
She ignored everything Patroclus said but enjoyed his attempts to get away from under her. She wouldn't let this stop though and as she rode him she leaned in to kiss her own husband, not stopping the movements of her hips until the warrior orgasmed.
Holding down a warrior while his wife fucked him was about the most erotic thing Hermes could think of as he watched. He growled, "when we finish playing, you're mine."
Patroclus was no match for an Olympian and his struggles were in vain. Peitho still had enough hold on him that even if his mind was horrified, his body was delighted. If he had been under her thrall completely, the experience would have been one of incredible pleasure. Instead it was violating and horrifying and even as he orgasmed, he was ashamed of it.
Peitho kissed Hermes fiercely, grabbing his hair as she did. "I love you," she said, and the words sounded violent and desperate. She drew back, yanking Hermes out of the kiss by his hair as she smiled in delight. "I want to watch you fuck him," she said, climbing off Patroclus. "I want to watch you come."
Hermes laughed as Peitho yanked him by his hair. He smiled at her and he said, "I love you too. You do have the most delicious ideas."
Patroclus rolled over and he tried to crawl away, but Hermes grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him backwards. He pinned the warrior beneath him easily. It wouldn't be Peitho's house if it didn't have lube available in every room. He was able to undress and slick himself up while holding Patroclus. Then he fucked the warrior for the enjoyment of his wife.
Patroclus squeezed his eyes shut as Hermes entered him. He tried to imagine it was Achilles to soothe his mind, but there was no way Achilles would be so rough with him.
Peitho's fingers were between her own legs and she moaned with pleasure as she watched her beloved husband. She kept her eyes on Hermes the whole time, her gaze drifting down his powerful body, the way he flicked the hair out of his face, his strong arms gripped into Patroclus' flesh.
She came with a pained whimper before Hermes did.
Hermes wasn't far behind. The sound of his wife's pleasure was enough to send him over the edge himself.
When he finished, he dragged a hand across his sweaty brow and he slipped away from the warrior to plant a kiss on his wife's inviting lips.
Patroclus groaned as Hermes left him alone. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry, but instead he turned to face them. He had to be aware in case another attack was forthcoming.
Peitho wrapped her legs around Hermes, kissing him deeply. When she drew back from the kiss she was still pressed against her husband, but her words were obviously meant for Patroclus not him. "You can go now, honey," she said, before wrapping her arms around Hermes tightly.
Patroclus rose carefully, still sure that it was somehow a trap. Hermes lifted his wife back to the couch and Patroclus didn't want to watch them fuck in triumph over what they had done to him.
He gathered his clothes together and slipped out of the door before either of them could focus on him again. And once there was a closed door between them and himself, he ran. Charged with adrenaline and horror, he left the apartment building and ran all the way home.