Disclaimers:
Summary:
Warnings:
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by
Ares lounged across his obsidian Throne, one black leather covered leg thrown carelessly over an intricately carved armrest. His darkly seductive features were drawn into a fierce scowl while His strong graceful fingers toyed almost absently with a finely balanced and razor sharp dagger.
The Temple was quiet and empty due to its remote location and the lateness of the hour. That gave Ares time to think. Even if He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, He was honest enough with Himself to acknowledge that He had come here to brood. Ares gave a deep sigh as He absently tossed the polished blade into the air and deftly caught it once again.
The God of War considered His 'problem' as he continued to toss and catch the deadly weapon he toyed with. Ares was bored. That was a very real problem with immortality, whether you were an immortal demi- god or a full fledged God. Days became years, which then became decades. Decades blurred into centuries, and the centuries rolled by in an endless precession. It became increasingly difficult to find new and interesting challenges to face and conquer. Existence became an endless repetition of a set series of situations. The details, names of people and places changed, but inevitably, the basic elements were the same.
Few, if any mortals, could even begin to understand how much He cherished and adored those few beings who brought relief to the monotonous 'now' of His existence. Some of His favorites were His daughter Xena, and His half-brother Hercules. They, of course, topped His list of enemies. Then there were those among His worshipers, with Caesar of Rome and Darius of Greece topping that list.
Ares had spent the better part of the last several years throwing the two most ruthless and ambitious mortals, one a frighteningly intelligent and well bred General, the other a savage and brutal Warlord, into a series of battles, traps, and even a few truly horrifying bloodbaths. Neither man had ever seriously disappointed the God of War.
When Ares hadn't been encouraging His Greek and Roman warriors into battle, He had turned His attention to the two demi-gods that shared His blood. His half-brother and His daughter were both a source of terrible frustration and great pride for Him. While they could never truly defeat Him, they had both proven themselves capable of surviving traps, destroying careful planning and strategy, and solving mind boggling puzzles.
Although He would violently deny it until the Gates of Eternity finally rusted shut, Ares often secretly feared that one of them might actually die during one of their many battles. He knew that as much as He would enjoy their defeat in the short term, He would eventually miss the excitement and rare challenge that they provided Him in His endless monotony. Ares sighed again as He continued to brood.
The God of War wasn't sure how long He had been mired in self-pity (although He would have personally flayed anyone who referred to it in any way besides 'silent contemplation') when He heard the heavy iron doors of His Temple slowly swing open. With a thought, Ares made Himself invisible to mortal eyes and glanced with disinterest towards the front of His Throneroom.
The mortal who entered was not who or what He had expected and He looked again. The man was no one prominent or even 'up-and-coming' and yet he felt familiar to Ares, almost as if He should know him. The mortal walked towards the Altar in front of the War God, bringing himself into the reddish light of the braziers on either side. Ares took in the young man in the ridiculous and pitifully ineffective armor. And that helmet! Whoever made that helmet should have been drawn and quartered in Ares opinion. After all, bad taste could only have so much free reign in the world before it must be punished.
Gently and carefully, so as not to damage the fragile mortal mind, Ares let a suggestion seep into the man's thoughts. A heartbeat later, the man removed the silly helmet and dropped it to the polished stone floor. Suddenly, Ares could see the mans face and true recognition set in. Joxer?
Ares mind whirled a million miles a minute as He watched Joxer slowly step up to His Altar and kneel. Joxer had prayed to Him all his life and he came from a long line of powerful Warlords. Ares sighed silently to Himself and wondered what had happened to make Joxer the way he was. Namely: clumsy, awkward, uncoordinated, and well,... gentle.
Joxer's total devotion to Him, and his families good standing with Him had made Ares place Joxer under His protection when the young man had finally left his fathers keep. A suggestion to a Warlord here, a nudge to a bandit-chief there had kept him safe. Finally, Ares had simply arranged it so that Joxer ended up in the care of Meg. She was a lush and exotic woman who ran a 'den of iniquity' that many of his warriors frequented. Ares had been only a little surprised when Joxer had turned to 'whoring his services' instead of becoming a cook like intended, after all, the dinars flowed more freely in the bedroom than the kitchen. However, He had been very surprised when Joxer soon became the favorite of not only Meg's girls, but of many of His warriors as well. Still, the War God hadn't given it any more thought. Joxer was happy playing with both the girls and the boys between the sheets and he was safe from harm. Not even the stupidest warrior would maim the best cocksucker in town, if for no other reason than his fellows would slit his throat in retribution. Then something went wrong.
Joxer became enamored of a young warrior in Ares service and they spent most of their time together. Soon after declaring their love for each other, the warrior was killed during a village raid by a farmer with a pitch fork. Joxer immediately left Megs without a word. When Ares found Joxer, he had acquired the ridiculous armor he now wore and was trying to convince everyone, himself included, that he was a true warrior. With an eye towards frustrating His wayward daughter, the God of War firmly planted the idea in Xena's head to place the whore turned warrior-wanna-be under her protection. Joxer was safe once more and Xena and Gabrielle were both irritated. Mission accomplished. He had thought no more of it. Until now.
Ares turned His attention back to Joxer. The mortal was kneeling before His Altar, his open and honest face clearly showing his frustration and pain. It was the face of a man who had given everything he had towards a goal and had truly failed. It was the look of heartbreak. It touched something deeply buried within the War God's soul. He found Himself honestly listening to Joxer for the very first time. Always before Ares had merely recognized Joxer's devotion and combined with the services of his family, He simply made sure Joxer was being looked after and left it at that. But now... Ares focused his attention on the mortal kneeling before Him, opening His eyes, ears, and mind to that which He had always ignored.
The God of War was treated to a powerful wave of emotional trauma battling with sheer determination as He let Joxer's inner turmoil wash over Him. Ares easily recognized the anger, frustration, and doubt. What was unusual in one of His worshipers was the fact that these emotions were all turned inward. Joxer's self image was painfully low and yet his opinions of others were optimistically high. It was an unhealthy, unbalanced world view. Pulling away from the mortals emotions, Ares tuned in to what he was saying.
"...no longer want to be a warrior for my father or Jett. I know that I'll never get their approval, so I sorta stopped trying. And as much as I like Xena and Gabrielle, I don't want to be a warrior to try and impress them anymore. I know they only tolerate me most of the time, but... I guess I can't blame them for not really liking me. I don't even like me."
Ares barely noticed Joxer shut his eyes tight and take a deep breath. His soul felt as if a knife had been plunged into His heart at the mortal's words. The God of War knew with great intimacy the pain of being almost universally hated, to be tolerated simply because He was impossible to ignore. But Ares knew something that Joxer did not. Ares knew what it felt like to be feared and respected as well. His ears focused instantly when Joxer began to speak again.
"I guess the real reason I'm here is for me. I still want to be a warrior, but... I want it for me. I want to serve You not to please my father or to impress people, but because I want to serve You."
Joxer opened his eyes again and looked at the Throne where Ares sat, cloaked in invisibility. Pure devotion blazed forth past all the pain, humiliation and frustration.
"I don't know if You are even listening to me, but... Ares, You have been the only constant in my whole life. Nothing else matters anymore. I want... I need..."
Joxer closed his eyes once more and wearily hung his head, "I would do anything to be a warrior. A true warrior. Your warrior."
In a shower of blue-white sparks of pure energy, Ares allowed Himself to slowly become visible even as His voice echoed across the stone Temple. "Anything?"
Joxer visibly flinched and began to tremble slightly, but he managed to brace himself and look up into the eyes of his God. Ares was impressed. Most mortals tended to fling themselves at His feet in utter terror or run for the hills in a deep seated panic.
In a voice tight with fear, Joxer spoke, "Yes Ares. Anything."
Looking into Joxer's eyes, Ares saw a terrible need. A need for something more, something meaningful. He felt His own soul responding to that need with a hollow ache. The God of War felt the decision being made deep inside Himself and for a brief second, He wondered if He was doing this for Joxer or for Himself. Violently, He pushed that errant thought away.
"Joxer, all true warriors must make an offering of pain to Me."
Ares watched the look of uncomprehending confusion settle across the young mans open face.
The War God kept His handsome features set in a stern mask with effort. "A blood sacrifice." He clarified. "Made to Me, on My Altar."
Ares could clearly see Joxer's face go pale even as his heart thundered wildly at the very thought. The God of War expected the young mortal to either faint or run away. Again, he surprised Ares.
Swallowing loudly around the lump in his throat, Joxer replied, " I... I... Okay." He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed again. "If that's what You want Ares, I'll do it. For You."
Ares could feel waves of emotion pouring off of Joxer. Determination and hope battled with fear and self-doubt. Ares, usually indifferent about such things, silently hoped Joxer was up to the task Ares was about to lay before him. He could now see Joxer's potential, but he had to prove himself worthy of a miracle.
Ares pulled His leg off of the arm of His Throne and sat forward to look directly at Joxer. He let a serious, business-like expression come across His seductive features. "Joxer."
The mortal looked Him full in the face. Fear, lust, and finally devotion flashed across his mobile features. His entire being was riveted on Ares, he was hanging on every word, every movement.
"Joxer. To be a true warrior. One of My warriors. One who fights only in My name and for My glory requires three things." Ares paused for a moment and Joxer nodded his understanding.
"First, a warrior must spill blood in My name. On one of My Altars." Joxer nodded again. "Second, a warrior must come to understand the true nature of War." Joxer swallowed around a lump of fear in his throat, but nodded once more. "And third, a warrior must accept a gift which will bind him or her to Me." Ares fell silent and watched as the information filtered into the mans mind.
After several long minutes, Joxer spoke, "I... I want to be a warrior. I... I will do it."
The God of War nodded slowly. "Take this." With a bright flash of energy, the polished dagger in His hands disappeared only to reappear on the Altar in a similar flash. "Return to this Temple in one week. When the moon is high over head, use that dagger to perform the Ritual Spilling of Blood." Ares saw Joxer stare at the blade with wide fearful eyes. "Or simply return it and walk away."
Ares made Himself invisible in another shower of blue-white sparks. He watched in silent contemplation as Joxer reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the dagger. The mortal stared at it for a long moment before turning and leaving the Temple.
Once Joxer was gone, the room seemed suddenly empty and cold to Ares. He was about to will Himself to Olympus when He noticed Joxer's helmet laying forgotten on the black stone floor. Ares grimaced. That ridiculous helmet. Figuring that if Joxer passed his tests, Ares would never allow him to wear it again, or conversely, if Joxer failed his tests, Ares would never allow him to wear any armor, it was safe to get rid of the silly and offensive thing. With a thought and a flex of power, the God of War blasted the helmet into dust. Feeling better than He had all day, Ares willed Himself to His home Temple on Olympus.
~
Ares had spent the week practically obsessed with Joxer. At first, He went to the Halls of Time within Zeus's Palace. It was there that He discovered the source of Joxer's bungled coordination skills. Joxer's father had come home from battle one night to find his wife in bed with another man. The Warlord had slaughtered the fool instantly and then proceeded to beat his wife senseless. Banishing her from the bedroom, the enraged Warlord had flung her nearly unconscience form into the nursery where his twin infant sons lay sleeping. Her unresisting body had slammed violently into one of the cradles, knocking it to the floor. When the infant Joxer tumbled out of his cradle, his skull was cracked. Permanent brain damage set in, dooming him to a life of gracelessness and severely limited hand-eye coordination.
Great potential trapped within a damaged mind. The God of War thought long and hard about how to fix Joxer's coordination should he pass his tests. Finally, Ares found a solution and went to see Heaphestus.
Ares figured that with that out of the way, He could put Joxer out of His mind. His obsession would not leave Him be, however. He often found Himself contemplating His sudden decision.
Ares could have simply granted Joxer's wish and made him a fairly decent warrior and sent him on his way. Instead He had offered Joxer true power. Skills and knowledge that must be earned. He had offered Joxer a place among the elite. A chance to become, not just a warrior, but a Warrior Priest. But why? What was it about Joxer that had gotten under His skin?
The God of War didn't know if He should smile in happiness at the thought of Joxer, or if He should just blast something to pieces. So, He alternated. Sometimes He smiled, sometimes He destroyed. And much to His annoyance, He repeatedly found Himself in the Halls of Time reviewing Joxer's life over and over.
When the week finally drew to a close, Ares was relieved. He choose not to examine the reasons for that too closely. He just kept telling Himself it was due to His recent bout of boredom, that Joxer was simply an entertaining distraction. He also choose to ignore the fact that He had deliberately worn His favorite outfit that day. The skin tight, yet soft and supple black leather clung to Him like a second skin. He didn't need a mirror to know that the mere sight of Him would push a mortal into equal parts fear and lust. He was, after all, the God of War.
~
Ares lounged across His obsidian Throne cloaked in invisibility. He wasn't sure if Joxer would pass his tests, but He had taken precautions, just in case. He wanted privacy if things worked out as He hoped. Since His nephew was the only being insane enough to interrupt Him, He had simply sent Strife on a mission. The demented Godling usually amused Ares, but Strife wasn't the God of Mischief for nothing. If anyone could put an unwelcome wrinkle in His plans, if was Strife. With that last precaution taken care of however, Ares got comfortable and waited.
The time was right and Ares began to think that Joxer wouldn't show. The War God was a little startled at how disappointing that thought was. He closed His dark eyes and flexed His power. When He opened them again, a large oval mirror floated in the air before Him. With a thought and a graceful sweep of His hand, the mirror began to glow. The glow intensified to a bright flash. When it faded, Ares seductively handsome features had been replaced with the reflection of a single man walking across an open meadow.
With a thought, the view shifted and the War God could clearly make out the moon drenched details of Joxer's face. Fear and doubt contorted his features, but determination and resolve shone from his eyes. Ares dagger was held firmly in one hand. The God of War almost smiled. It was then that He made note of one other fact. Joxer was alone. Cold disappointment curled in Ares stomach and He banished the mirror with a negligent wave of His hand.
He almost willed Himself from the Temple, but at the last second, He changed His mind. He wanted to hear what Joxer had to say. He wanted to know why Joxer had no sacrifice to Him. With His nerves stretched taunt and His patience wearing thin, it felt like an eternity before a very subdued Joxer pushed open the iron doors to the Temple.
Ares watched silently as Joxer walked over and knelt in front of His Altar, the polished dagger held firmly in his right hand. Softly, in a voice filled with adoration, Joxer chanted a hymn in praise of the God of War that he had learned as a child. Ares could feel the strength of Joxer's devotion to Him, yet the man had no sacrifice. Despite His sour disappointment, He felt intrigued by this odd mortal who refused to do things the way they had always been done.
Ares was broken from His musings when Joxer suddenly stood up. The mortal was silent for a moment as he stared at the gleaming blade. A flood of emotions ran rampant across his honest face; fear, uncertainty, determination, devotion, and finally settled on a look that Ares recognized, but had rarely seen aimed at Him. Love. Once again, Joxer had shocked Ares.
Joxer pulled Ares from His thoughts by laying his empty left hand on the Altar. With a deep breath to steady himself, he began to speak.
"Ares,... I,... I don't know if Your even listening, but... I mean. I hope Your listening,... It's just,... well... this is important and..."
The War God grinned despite Himself. He decided to comply with Joxer's unspoken request to announce His presence. Instead of flashing into visibility, Ares flexed His power slightly. The softly glowing coals in the twin iron braziers on either side of His black marble Altar suddenly erupted into six foot columns of flame. Heat waves radiated out to instantly warm the now well lit Throneroom. The six torches set in the iron wall sconces, three on each side of the room, spontaneously burst into flame two by two down the Throneroom walls. When the last pair was burning, the fires in the twin braziers calmed to their normal sedate glow.
Ares used the natural acoustics of His stone Temple to allow His darkly seductive voice to echo around the violently trembling mortal. "Welcome to the Temple of War Joxer."
"Ares..." Joxer's voice shook with a mixture of fear and longing.
The God of War waited while the young man visibly composed himself. He forcibly resisted an unexpected urge to comfort Joxer. This evening needed to play itself out. Ares was suddenly sure that something important was about to happen. He just wasn't sure what.
With an effort of sheer will, Joxer swallowed around the lump in his throat and ignored the thundering rush to his heart. "Ares,... I ..." he swallowed again.
"I didn't bring a person with me to sacrifice because, well... even though I could have grabbed someone while they were sleeping and tied them up, I,... well I,..." he blushed furiously in the ruddy light. "Well, I guess I just couldn't bring myself to kill a helpless person."
"Then I thought about an animal. I know I could do that, but..." he trailed off again as his blush returned. "Well,... I sorta figured that an animal just wasn't good enough. Not for You."
Ares raised one perfect eyebrow in surprise. He did have a preference. While He would except an animal, He always preferred humans. Most mortals never considered that. They just assumed any blood would do. Joxer was refreshingly perceptive.
When the War God looked at him again, Joxer's eyes were closed, almost as if he were listening to a silent voice whispering in his ear. When Joxer spoke again, it was in a whisper.
"I thought long and hard about what to do. I couldn't kill a person in cold blood and You deserve better that a chicken or pig. Then I realized exactly what it was You said. And what You didn't say."
Taking a deep breath to steady his courage, Joxer plunged on, "You said You required an offering of pain, a spilling of blood on Your Altar. You did not say You required a death." Ares other eyebrow shot up at this unique interpretation. It was true, death was not required, but Joxer was the very first mortal to realize that.
A look of resolve settled over Joxer's mobile features and he continued in a now steady voice. "You asked for an offering of pain and blood, so I will give them to You freely."
In an act of utter devotion to his dark God, Joxer gripped the dagger fiercely in his right hand. With a swift movement, he wrapped his left fist around the razor sharp blade and squeezed tightly.
"I do not offer You death," he said in a voice tight with pain. "Instead, I offer You life. I willing sacrifice all that my life could have been, would have been, so that I might use it as a tool. A tool to serve You." With that, Joxer violently yanked the blade from the warm flesh in which it had been sheathed, gasping at the sharp pain.
Joxer carefully opened and closed his left fist, watching with morbid fascination as his own red blood pooled there. Then with a slow, calm movement, he titled his hand, letting the precious liquid spill down in bright drops to splash against the surface of the black polished Altar.
The romance, the devotion, the eroticism, the pain, the scent of blood, and the total denial of self that Joxer had so freely offered hit Ares in an almost physical wave of desire, even as the words burned their way into His soul.
Longing, desire and need for this mortal rose up within the God of War with a strength that He had not felt in ages long since past. With the scent of fresh blood in His nose and Joxer's devotion radiating into Him from a pure and untainted soul, Ares felt Himself grow painfully hard with the burning desire to bury Himself within the young man. Shifting slightly to ease the sudden tightness in His leather pants, Ares flashed into view in a shower of blue-white sparks.
Joxer's eyes widened at the sight of his God appearing before him, but he didn't flinch away. Instead, he looked directly into Ares eyes. The War God was impressed by this display of the mans inner strength and courage, and He let a smile settle onto His handsome face. Joxer's sharply indrawn breath and the musky scent of his growing arousal informed Ares just how much His smile affected the warrior before Him. He was very pleased.
With a bright flash, Ares disappeared from His Throne, only to instantly reappear in another bright flash standing directly behind Joxer. The mortal stiffened in shock for a heartbeat, then forcefully relaxed his tense muscles. Ares reached around Joxer to gently grasp his bloody left hand. Slowly, He turned it over so that it was once more palm up.
"I accept your sacrifice of pain and blood," he whispered into the young man's ear. He allowed Himself a small smirk at the light shudder that ran through Joxer at His words.
Gently, so as not to damage the fragile mortal, Ares turned Joxer so that the man faced Him. He captured Joxer's eyes with His own and held them with His will. With a slow deliberation, the God of War raised the bloody offering to His face and ran His tongue across it in a gentle sensuous lick. Ares dimly heard Joxer's moan of desire as the taste of blood exploded in His mouth.
Ares senses reeled from the pleasure. Joxer's soul was pure, untainted. His heart was true and his devotion unselfish. All of this was there, contained within the coppery taste of Joxer's blood. All that Joxer was, his essence, his soul, was given freely to Ares in the form of the rich red blood which decorated His Altar and ran down His throat. Ares found Joxer to be unutterably beautiful. His desire for the warrior doubled, He swallowed another mouthful of blood sucked from the open wound and His desire doubled again.
A low moan of pleasure spiked with pain drew His attention back into the Temple. Indulging in a last tender lick against the wounded palm, Ares healed the cut with a thought. He was careful to leave a vivid scar as a constant visual reminder of this night. Joxer gasped as both the pleasure and the pain left him at once. The mortal was trembling again, but Ares knew it was no longer from fear.
"Are you ready for the second test Joxer? The test of knowledge?" Ares seductive voice was a husky, low murmur, filled with dark longing.
"Yes."
Looking deep into Joxer's eyes, with the taste of blood lingering on His tongue, Ares made another decision with His heart and once more left His head behind to wonder. Each time before, when Ares and a warrior had enacted the Ritual of Blood Sacrifice, Ares had conjured a silver chalice of sweet white wine. Mixing in a single drop of His immortal blood, turned the wine bright red. Consuming this elixir would grant the warrior visions and transfer knowledge and skill. Suddenly, it did not seem enough. Joxer deserved more and Ares wanted to give it to him.
With a violent clenching of His strong jaw, Ares bit down upon His own tongue. Sharp pain flashed through His skull for a quick minute before fading away. His mouth rapidly filled with the taste of His own blood, and He quickly grabbed hold of Joxer and pulled the trembling warrior to Him. With a tenderness that contrasted erotically with the fierceness of His embrace, Ares leaned forward and kissed Joxer.
Joxer's startled gasp soon turned to a moan of pleasure. Ares took advantage of his open mouth to thrust His tongue within the warm wet cavern. Ares could feel the shudder run through Joxer as the blood from His mouth poured into the young mortal. Joxer swallowed the red liquid which was Ares.
Desire, both physical and emotional radiated like heat from Joxer. With an aggression born of lust and devotion, Joxer captured Ares' willing tongue and sucked on it, drawing more of the sweet blood into him. Joxer swallowed another mouthful, and a moment later, he swallowed another. Finally, with a moan of indescribable pleasure, he swooned. It was only Ares strong arms around Joxer that kept him from crashing to the stone floor.
The God of War arranged the limp form upon His Altar with a worried frown etched into His darkly beautiful face. Always before He had offered a single drop of His blood, strongly diluted in white wine to His most favored warriors. What would three mouthfuls of the pure, undiluted blood of the War God do to a mortal?
Ares could feel a tumult of emotions wash over Him in wave after wave and He knew they were Joxer's. He looked at the young warrior's face and could see his eyes moving rapidly to the visions behind his closed lids. He could also feel the familiar energy of His own blood inside of Joxer. It was a strong vibration since Joxer had drank more of His blood than any warrior before him.
Placing a tender caress alongside Joxer's cheek, the God of War turned with a heavy step and walked in silence to His dark Throne. Making Himself comfortable, He sat in worried contemplation, waiting for Joxer to awake.
~
It had taken longer than Ares had hoped, but quicker than He had expected. As the sun finally peered over the mountains to the east, and it's first rays hit the Temple, Joxer stirred. The warrior woke slowly, rising through layer upon layer of visions and newly acquired knowledge.
Ares watched in tense silence as Joxer's open and honest face easily revealed his thoughts and feelings. Ares knew from experience that mortals usually settled upon one of two emotions once their conscience, waking mind filtered and absorbed the knowledge He implanted within their subconscious with His blood. It was almost always bloodlust or horror. He hoped Joxer would surprise Him by once more proving to be unique.
Ares was not disappointed. Many emotions played across Joxer's features. One after another. Fear, anger, hatred, despair, lust, triumph, caution, determination, admiration, and doubt. But instead of settling into a final look of horror or bloodlust, it was a look of understanding. Joxer understood the true nature of War, better than any mortal before him. He understood and he accepted it with all his being. When Joxer sat up on the black marble Altar, he looked at Ares with eyes that were no longer innocent, but that were still full of devotion. Devotion and Love.
"Ares..." His name on Joxer's lips caressed Him with velvety passion.
Ares drew a serious look upon His seductive features with difficulty. "Joxer. We have come to the end of the second part of the Ritual. I have given you the knowledge of War and the skills for battle."
Joxer nodded slowly at the pause. "Now you must decide if you can live with that knowledge. If you can, I will make it permanent and bind you to Me forever." Ares paused again to let His words sink in. At Joxer's nod, He continued. "If you feel that you can't live with the knowledge, then I will erase it from your mind and you can walk away as if this never happened."
Joxer didn't even hesitate. "The knowledge is a great burden, yes. But it is not too heavy. I still want to serve You. Nothing could change that. I lo..." Joxer swallowed. "I am Yours."
Ares smiled. Joxer's calm and quiet acceptance was a true measure of his inner strength and beauty. His desire for His warrior grew once more.
"Come to Me Joxer." His dark voice smooth like honey. Joxer awkwardly climbed off the Altar and made his way to the Throne with something less than grace. Ares silently vowed to Himself that after the Ritual was complete, Joxer would never have to battle the brain damage that corrupted his coordination again.
When Joxer finally made his way to the Throne upon which Ares sat, he sank to his knees before the God of War. In a sudden flash of intense light, a massive Sword appeared in Ares strong graceful hands. The Sword glowed with a palpable aura of power and a pure tone shimmered in the air, not unlike the sound of a silver bell after it had been lightly struck. The expression on Joxer's face was one of awe as he looked upon the symbol of Ares' Godhood.
Gripping the massive Sword of Power in both hands, Ares placed the flat of the blade upon Joxer's forehead. "Do you, Joxer of Greece, agree to swear fealty unto Me, Ares, God of War? To serve Me even until the end of Time?"
"Yes Ares. I do."
"And I, Ares, God of War, find this mortal, Joxer of Greece, to be worthy of service. Upon the Sword of Power, do I claim you to be a Warrior in My service, even until the end of Time."
At those words, the Sword of Power began to glow brightly once more. The glow suddenly rushed up the length of the blade and unto Joxer. Slowly, the light sank beneath the warrior's skin.
Ares watched Joxer's eyes close tight as the sensations of His Mark settled into him, became a part of him. For a heartbeat, Ares thought he might faint again. With a flex of power the War God sent His Sword back to the Halls of War and replaced it with an iron circlet.
"I have placed My Mark upon you Joxer. Ordinary mortals won't be able to see it, by My worshipers will, even as you could see My Mark on others before. And of course, any immortal, God or demi-god will be able to see it."
Joxer nodded thoughtfully at those words. Suddenly, his trademark boyish grin surfaced, "Good."
Ares chuckled at the wave of happiness that rolled off of His newest Warrior Priest. The mortal's naturally good humor was swiftly reasserting itself and Ares found it oddly contagious.
"And now for the last part. The gift." Ares help up the iron circlet for Joxer to see. Crafted on the forge of Heaphestus, the plain iron circlet was lined with black leather and a single, blood red stone was inset into the front. With gentle care, the War God placed it on the head of His Priest. He didn't tell Joxer, but the magick woven into the circlet would erase the effects of the brain damage caused by his fall to the stone floor of his nursery as an infant.
Ares watched, entranced, as a shiver of energy swept through the young warrior when the spell settled over him. "Oh Ares..." he moaned.
Once more, the sound of His name on Joxer's lips sent a wave of desire coursing through Him. A wave which firmly settled at His cock. Unbidden, the memory of Joxer's soft full lips upon His before the warrior had succumbed to the visions, returned to Ares. His arousal grew. He allowed His desire to show upon His handsome face. Ares could clearly sense Joxer's reaction to that look, and the warrior's desire only added fuel to the fire of His own passion.
Ares reached out and slowly trailed His fingers along Joxer's smooth shaven cheek. His warrior leaned into the gentle touch, a low moan of pleasure humming in his throat. Ares traced a callused thumb along Joxer's lower lip and the warrior gently sucked it into his mouth. A shudder of pleasure ran through Him as Joxer first licked and then tenderly nibbled at it. The promise of further pleasure was a temptation Ares was eager to explore. Slowly, the God of War stood up before His kneeling Warrior Priest, allowing him to see the black leather covered evidence of His desire. Joxer did not disappoint.
With a soft sigh of longing, Joxer leaned forward into Ares. He nuzzled his face into his God's crotch even as he slowly trailed his exploring fingers up the leather encased muscular legs. Joxer ran his hands up Ares thighs and across His hips, then over His flat stomach towards His chest. The warrior traced His leather covered erection with his mouth and moaned in pure pleasure.
Joxer looked up at Ares, a combination of devotion and lust in his eyes, "Please..." he whispered. With a thought and a graceful sweep of His hand, Ares removed His leathers, sending them to the Halls of War. A half second later, Ares banished Joxer's ridiculous excuse for armor to Tartarus, since Ares planned to never let him wear it again. He looked down with a smile to see Joxer wearing nothing but his iron circlet and a smile.
He heard the soft gasp of delight from His warrior as Joxer gazed up at the perfection of His naked body revealed in the ruddy light of the braziers. He could feel the sexual desire of His Priest slam into Him like a blow from a War Hammer.
Joxer reached up with both hands and trailed his longer fingers across Ares muscled chest. The gentle caresses left swirls of tingling pleasure along the War Gods skin as His warrior memorized His every line and curve. Those tender touches teased a trail of desire down to His chiseled abs and across His sensuous hips. The warrior slid his hands along the outside of Ares strong thighs, only to sweep around His knees and bring them back up along the sensitive inner thigh muscles to His throbbing erection.
Finally reaching his goal, the warrior ran his tongue up Ares thick, hard shaft. When he reached the swollen head, he swirled his tongue around it twice before delving into the weeping slit to capture the pre-cum gathered there. "Mmmmm..." Joxer hummed his pleasure at the exquisite taste, and a shiver of desire ran down Ares spine.
Ares titled His hips forward slightly, silently demanding entrance into the wet heat of His Priests mouth. Joxer, eager to obey, opened his lips wide and slid down onto the War Gods pulsing shaft. He bobbed up and down on Ares cock a few times to loosen and open his throat muscles. Sucking and licking on every stroke, Joxer was finally able to take the God all the way in his throat, until his nose nestled in the black curls. Ares closed His eyes at the sweet pleasure.
Ares eyes flew open once again as He felt Joxer take His hands and place then on his head. With a lust filled grin, Ares wrapped His fingers tightly in Joxer's hair and thrust deeply into the warrior's mouth. Joxer didn't choke or pull away at the rough treatment. Instead, he moaned in pleasure and the vibrations ran like lightening along the length of Ares shaft.
With His own moan of pleasure, Ares began to fuck His warrior's mouth with abandon. As He thrust His cock in and out of that wonderful mouth, Joxer continued to give Him the blow-job of the century. Joxer ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of Ares cock on each stroke and he sucked and swallowed at the head with each thrust. Ares was dimly aware of Joxer's hands tracing the contours of the muscles on His body. Hands worshipping His back, chest and legs, even as the mouth worshipped His throbbing cock.
Ares thrust harder and faster as He felt the pressure building up in His balls and shaft. Joxer's hot, wet mouth was wonderful and He didn't want this to end, but He knew that He was close to the edge. Suddenly, Joxer's wandering hands clamped down on His nipples, squeezing them hard. The sensual pain shot through His body like wildfire straight to His balls. With a harsh cry of pleasure Ares thrust down Joxer's tight throat and came. Hard. As He shot His creamy load into His warrior, He was dimly aware of Joxer pulling back slightly to catch His seed on his tongue. Joxer swallowed every drop of the precious liquid, sucking and licking his beloved God clean.
When the last of the aftershocks had faded, Ares looked down at the naked warrior kneeling before Him. Joxer's lips were swollen and slightly bruised. His pale skin glowed in the reddish light with a thin sheen of sweat. His tousled and tangled hair twinned in Ares strong fingers. Head tilled back and up to gaze with love and longing at Ares as he kneeled in quiet submission, his own erection painfully hard between his legs. The God of War was once again struck by the beauty and inner strength Joxer possessed and He felt His desire begin to grow once more.
Ares almost asked where Joxer had learned to do that so well, when He remembered about the time Joxer had spent working for Meg. An errant thought crossed His mind and Ares wondered what else the warrior had learned during his employment at the Whorehouse. He was determined to find out.
Ares released Joxer's hair from His graceful fingers. He ran those same fingers tenderly down the side of His warriors face. Joxer, once more, leaned into His touch. When Ares reached Joxer's chin, He gently lifted, guiding Joxer to his feet.
Ares got His first good look at Joxer's body. He was pleasantly surprised by what He found. While not heavily muscled, what Joxer did have was toned and tight. His slender frame was well conditioned from his travels with Xena and Gabrielle. And as Ares was about to discover, what Joxer lacked in sheer strength, he more than made up for in stamina and endurance.
The God of War pulled Joxer into His arms and captured his mouth in a deep passionate kiss. Ares could taste Himself in Joxer's mouth as their tongues battled. Joxer molded himself tightly against the War God, his body a burning heat along Ares skin and the straining erection stabbed against His thigh. His blood stirred deliciously as Joxer slowly writhed, rubbing his skin sensually along Ares body, as if to silently beg for more. Joxer put every once of devotion and desire into his actions and it was the most erotic kiss that Ares had experienced in decades. He moaned into His warrior's mouth and leaned forward, overbalancing them both.
Ares felt Joxer stiffen in His arms, expecting to hit the hard stone floor. Instead, they landed on a soft bed, covered in black silk sheets that Ares had conjured out of the air with a thought. It took Joxer a quick moment to recover the breath that Ares weight had knocked out of him, but when he did, Joxer leaned forward to capture the War Gods lips in a kiss. When Ares opened His mouth to Joxer's tongue, His warrior responded by opening his legs wide under Him. Ares moaned with pleasure as He felt Joxer wantonly thrust up into His growing erection.
Ares desire continued to build as Joxer writhed in need beneath Him. The Priests hands traveled lightly across His back to His firm ass. Their hard cocks rubbed erotically, hot flesh against hot flesh. Ares suddenly pulled away from Joxer's hungry lips and body to kneel between his wide open legs.
Ares looked into the face of His warrior and saw naked lust tempered by loving adoration. He saw the desire to please and the need to be possessed. With a flex of power, Ares conjured a bottle of oil out of the air and poured some out onto His hand. Without a word, Joxer pulled his wide-spread legs up and tilted his hips towards Ares, silently offering himself to the God of War. Ares found it to be an erotically and wantonly beautiful sight.
Ares ran the tip of one oiled finger teasingly around the entrance to Joxer's body. Joxer let out a low moan and pushed back against Ares finger, trying desperately to impale himself. Ares smiled and pushed His finger in past the tight ring of muscles. Joxer moaned in pleasure and flexed his internal muscles, caressing Ares' finger in a promise of what was to come. Ares almost bit through His lip at the display of skill. No wonder he had been such a popular favorite at Meg's.
Ares quickly but thoroughly stretched and loosened Joxer's tight muscles. His first finger was followed by another. He thrust them in and out, delving deeper and deeper. Ares inserted a third finger and pushed inside Joxer as far as he could, brushing against His Priests sweet spot. Joxer pushed back at Ares fiercely, a low rumble of pleasure deep in his chest.
Ares removed His three imbedded fingers and Joxer whimpered at the loss. Quickly, Ares oiled up His thick cock and took careful aim at Joxer's entrance. The warrior tried to push back and impale himself on Ares, but the War God had a firm grip on his hips. With excruciating slowness, Ares buried Himself deep within Joxer's body.
Hot! Tight! Pulsing! Alive! Joxer!!! Ares hands gripped His warrior's hips in a bruising clench of muscles as He struggled with His self control. After a long moment of backing away from the edge of release, Ares opened His tightly shut eyes and looked at Joxer.
It was an amazingly beautiful vision to see His cock buried balls deep inside of Joxer's writhing body. It was one He was sure He would never tire of seeing, and He knew right then and there, that He planned to enjoy this treat again and again.
With slow sensual movements, Joxer brought his legs up and over Ares strong shoulders while flexing his internal muscles to massage the wonderfully thick cock in his ass. A moan of pleasure escaping His lush lips, Ares pulled back until only the throbbing head of His cock remained in Joxer. Shifting His angle slightly, the God of War thrust back in. Joxer gasped and pushed against Him as Ares shaft rubbed his sweet spot.
In and out, Ares thrust His cock repeatedly into Joxer. Each stroke caressed the warriors prostate. Joxer gave himself totally to the War God. He writhed and moaned erotically, lost in the pleasure he was both getting and giving. With mindless abandon, he pushed back against Ares on every inward thrust and relaxed his muscles on every outward pull. Eagerly fucking himself on Ares huge cock, he gave as good as he got. For all His age and vast experience, Ares had rarely enjoyed the exotic pleasure of such a responsive lover.
Sweat dripped off of Ares onto Joxer's burning skin as He wrapped His large hand around Joxer's weeping cock. Three tight firm strokes was all it took and Joxer exploded with Ares name shouted from his lips. Ares had time for one last thrust into Joxer before the contracting muscles of His Priests ass threw Him over the edge into orgasm. He shot His seed deep into Joxer and then slowly collapsed on top of his limp and exhausted body.
Joxer looked at Him with a completely sated and enormously happy expression on his open face. The warrior leaned up and gently kissed Him on His lips. "Thank You." He whispered softly. He leaned his head back onto the soft bed, closed his eyes and passed out.
Ares allowed Himself a contented grin as He contemplated His sleeping lover. He sometimes forgot how fragile mortals were. His grin turned into a true smile. Joxer had definitely earned his rest, but then again, so had He. Ares rolled off of Joxer and onto His back next to him. Joxer let out a little whimper of loss in his sleep, so Ares reached out and gathered His mortal into His arms. Joxer snuggled down, pressed tightly against His side and quieted instantly. The last thought Ares had before He drifted off to sleep was that Joxer would definitely be able to relieve His boredom... and possibly more.
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