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Archive name: mpg.txt
Authors name: Homer Vargas
Story title : Makin' Pagans
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(c) Copyright Homer Vargas (Sep. 1999) This work is
copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved.
This story may be archived and displayed on non-
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"Makin' Pagans" (Mf, Ff, F/superhero, MC, preg)
by Homer Vargas
Thanks to John Freer for most of the nifty ideas for
this story; the un-nifty ones are mine. Appalling
gaps in Homer's classical education <g> heroically
filled by Felix Lance Falkon and Allison George's
Encarta encyclopedia. Artie pitched in with some
proofing of an early version, but is not responsible
for remaining errors.
Also, I have gotten some comments from readers put off
by some of the obcure references and the "menageire"
of Greek gods. Therefore I have some eplanatory notes
at the end.
"Makin' Pagans"
A frown darkened the clean face of Apollo* as he
strode purposefully toward the Throne Room. He had
serious business to discuss, but the excited snorts
coming from the private chambers of the Father of Gods
and Men and the ecstatic squeal of a female coming to
beat the lyre made his timing look inauspicious.
Still, Zeus* was never one for long romantic
interludes. Apollo sat down on a marble bench and
waited, reviewing the parchments he carried.
He was right. Ten minutes later a disheveled Naiad
stumbled giggling from behind a curtain, a large,
silly grin on her face and a larger dollop of gooey
celestial semen running down her leg. Apollo uhummed,
pushed aside the curtain, and walked in.
"Come right in. Been expecting you, my boy," the
elder god boomed jovially, still adjusting the sash
around his waist. "Now tell me, what are these
tidings that are so Goddamned important?"
"All Powerful, I have bad news," the youthful-looking
god replied. "I have the latest surveys. We've got a
Y2K problem -- the number of our worshippers is down
for the 1999th year in a row."
"Quite impossible, Ap. Why the Delphic Oracle* told
me just the other day . . . ."
"Blast the *Delphic* Oracle! I got these numbers from
the Redwood Shores Oracle. Those silly priestesses of
mine at Delphi have been sniffing gas for so long,
it's amazing they have a synapse left among them.
According to these projections, by January 1, 2000, we
will have no worshipers at all. As it is, the few we
have are mostly lunatics, no offense to Selene."
"And what's so bad about with that?" Zeus grinned.
"Do *you* enjoy sitting around hearing petitions from
farmers wanting rain, sailors needing wind, and
maidens pleading to get laid more often? Bloody
nuisances all, I say. And those sacrifices! Ye gads!
I don't know how Demeter and some of the others do it;
they get away with gifts of oil or grain or wine. Me?
I have to put up with slaughtered cows, for Chrissake!
Have you seen what they've done to my temple at
Corinth? It's a damned abattoir, sinks to high
heaven! No worshipers? Good riddance! Personally,
I've got better things to do." A divine glance toward
a draped-off alcove and a soft feminine titter made
Apollo want to roll his eyes, but he forced himself to
remain clam.
"Zeus, this is serious. Do you know that more people
believe in the divinity of Celeste*, that two-bit
reviewer of internet erotica, than believe in *you*?"
For the first time Zeus began to look concerned.
Seeing he was at last making an impression, Apollo
pressed his advantage, "Have you ever heard of
Woden?"*
"Wooden?" Wouldn't know," Zeus chuckled.
Apollo grimaced at the older god's pathetic attempt at
humor. "Case closed," Apollo snapped. "Wodin was the
head honcho of the Norse pantheon. Had dozens of gods
and goddesses working for him up there. Everybody in
Ultima Thule loved him for fighting off the Frost
Giants. They even named Wednesday after him -- for
all the good it did him. Of course the Northern
League never got any world class poets like Homer,
Ovid and Virgil to write for them so when their
worshipers deserted for other religions, the whole
mythology just evaporated - zippo, nada! Same thing
could happen to us."
"By Jove, this is serious" the bearded figure
exclaimed. "I've always known mortals were Mercurial,
but this calls for action. It will be a Herculean
task, but we'll Martial our forces ."
"Now you're talking, Great One. You'd better stop
fucking around long enough to do something or we'll
all be fucking memories," Apollo said, making a note
to ask Celeste if he had just used a participle or a
gerund.
*****
If any mortals had been looking up at the top of Mt.
Olympus the next morning, they would have seen the
clouds especially thick and dark. Hermes had scurried
all the previous afternoon and night to deliver Zeus's
summons that all the gods appear for an emergency
meeting of the Council. "Why the hell can't the get
e-mail like everybody else!" thought the tired fleet-
footed Messenger of the Gods as he straggled back from
the Underworld, having narrowly escaped being mauled
by Cerberus - going AND coming.
"Please turn down your auras so we can all see
better," Zeus requested as he gaveled the meeting to
order. He watched as Apollo ran through a
particularly effective Power Point presentation of the
consultants' report, "Pagan Worship Longitudinal
Survey - Diagnosis and Action Plan."
"As I understand it the consultants recommend a
combination of a media campaign and grass-roots
organizing. You all have the report. "I'd like to
open the floor to discussion," the Earth Shaker said
"'Media campaign and grass-roots organizing,' my ass!"
Mars shouted angrily. "What we need to do is knock
head together. I've been saying for centuries that
our great `father figure' is a wimp. Thunderbolt the
damned unbelievers back to the stone age!"
"Please excuse my excitable nephew, but violence
clearly is not the answer," Poseidon spoke up. "We
want people to love and revere us. My elder brother
was wise to sign the ATL (Anti-Thunderbolt Launcher)
treaty with the other pantheons. On the other hand, I
have grave reservations abut the efficacy of the
proposed strategy. Having people to go door to door
handing out pamphlets as `Jove's Witnesses' is
ludicrous."
"I'm afraid I can't see TV and radio spots having much
effect, either," Athena added.
"A clothing line called `Zeus suits' is the silliest
idea I've ever heard," chirped Persephone.
"But what *can* we do? If we don't get some new souls
soon, my realm will be overgrown with underbrush!"
exclaimed Pluto. "Why not one Parisian couple in a
thousand who have sex every year on the Champs Elysees
knows what they're named for!"
"If everyone is finished whining and beating his
breast ... " Every eye turned to the gorgeous
Aphrodite and few were the gods or goddesses that
didn't gape at the celestial figure whose divine
mammaries inspired anything but beating. When she was
sure everyone was paying attention, the Goddess of
Love stepped forward. "These are the lamest (no
offense, Hephaestus, darling) ideas I have heard in a
long time. `Media blitz,' `grass roots campaign?'
Give me a break! Stunts like that may get us on the
cover of Time and on talk radio for a week, but in two
years, we'll be right back where we are now.
Worshipers learn to worship from their mothers. What
we need is for pagan mothers have to start having more
pagan babies."
"But where will these pagan mothers come from, if
almost no pagans are left?" asked Athena, as always,
trying to be the soul of reason.
"Have you all forgotten? There is one place on Earth
where the Olympians are still worshiped -- Paradise
Island," Aphrodite replied.
"But the Amazons are all virgin warriors who have
nothing to do with men," said Mars proudly.
"So far," Aphrodite replied with a glint in her eye.
"Maybe they've just lacked motivation. Look at how
hot that Wonder Woman always is. Why, that bitch is
so horny she comes like a freight train every time
some villain ties her up and diddles her a little. I
say, get those Amazons in the mood and they'll be
makin' pagans for us out the kazoo!"
Although several of the gods and goddesses took
umbrage at the condescending attitude of Aphrodite
toward her future worshipers, no one could come up
with a better plan. Taking the sense of the meeting,
Zeus decided to send Hermes to reason with the
Amazons.
"Now these are very prickly females, Herm," Zeus
advised later in his chambers. "Those girls have made
not submitting to a man a point of honor for over
three millennia now. It may not be easy to convince
them.
"Don't worry, Zeus, baby. I'll just use the Caduceus
on them. When I wave this wand and speak, they'll do
anything I say. I'll have them opening their legs
faster than you can say Andromedea."
Shortly, the Winged Messenger of the Gods was flitting
low over Paradise Island, looking for the Royal
Palace. "I'll find Queen Hypolyte and put her under
my spell first," he chuckled to himself. "The rest
should fall easily enough,"
<Thwump>
Suddenly the god felt himself entangled in something
and falling to earth. "Gaia, help!" he managed to
plead as he fell and was glad that the Earth goddess
at least found a soft spongy patch for him to fall on.
"Nice shot," Cybe. No one's better with the bola that
you."
"Thanks, Noore. I guess the Queen didn't put me in
charge of air defense for nothing. Let's get the
intruder tied up and take him to court," replied the
other young Amazon.
A short frog march later the Messenger of the Gods was
standing ignominiously gagged and bound hand and foot
before Queen Hypolyte and her court.
"Who are you and why have you come to Paradise Island?
No mortal can find this place and the Immortals know
that no male is permitted here."
The helpless god struggled, trying to get them to
remove the gag. Even without his Caduceus he hoped to
be able to enthrall them.
"Let him speak," ordered the Queen, "But fill his
mouth with pebbles first. I have hard that such
visitors may seek to entrance us with soft words. If
it was not too good for Demosthenes, it's not too good
for him," the Queen smirked.
"Qoonn Hypoloto," Hermes began awkwardly. "Tho Fothor
of tho Gods Hos sont mo to groot yoo ond to thonk yoo
for tho sorvosos thot yo ond yoor moghto ond volyont
Omozons hov olwos rondord to both gods ond mon. Yoor
fom, yoor cooroj, yoor byooto or known. . . ."
"Hermes, you stinker, I night have known it was you.
Knock off the speechmaking and cut to the chase," the
Queen replied angrily.
"Voro woll, Mo Qooon. Zoos hos sont mo to osk o fovor
of yoo, o fovor thot. . . . ." he swallowed as well as
he could given the pebbles in his mouth, chastened by
Hypolyte's icy glare. "Tho Fothor of Gods ond Mon
noods, oll wo gods nood, mor worshopors. Yoo Omozons
or proctocollo tho onlo boloovors wo Olompyons hov
loft."
"And whose fault is that?" the Queen shot back. "What
do you expect when your Fearless Leader goes around
playing shenanigans like changing himself into a bull
or a swan or Lord know what just to seduce some
airhead maiden. If he had tended to the business of
hurling thunderbolts and answering prayers, you guys
wouldn't be in this fix."
"Yoor Mojosto os no doobt roght, bot ot's too lot for
o longtho doognosos of tho problom. Wo nood mor
worshopors soon or wo'll oll jost go `poof.'"
"So you need more worshipers? And just what do you
want me and my Amazons to do about it?"
"Wo wont to stort ovor. Wo'll bo good gods, ottontov
to tho noods of oor boloovors, strovong to ophold tho
hoghost morol ond othocol stondords, bot only wo nood
now boloovors. Wo wont yoo ond tho othor Omozons to
boor ond roor o now gonoroshoon of pogons!"
"Bite your tongue, bird foot!" the Queen exclaimed,
not realizing how difficult Hermes might find the
exercise. "An Amazon bear a child? Unthinkable!
That would mean to allow a male . . . ." the Queen
exclaimed, shocked by the implications of what she had
almost said.
"I don't understand. What would it mean?" inquired
Drucilla, who had been giving Hermes the eye. Even
tied up, he was kind of cute. Nice buns, she thought.
"Woold tho yoong lodo lok mo to domonstrot?" Hermes
grinned. Hypolyte slapped him for his impudence.
"Hey, Hypolyte, let him explain," shouted another.
Glaring at the bound god, Hypolyte nodded her ascent.
"Thonk yoo grocooos Qooon. Lodoos, Zoos offors yoo
tho opportonoto to bocom mothors, to know tho joy of
holdong on onfont, to fool ots tony lops on yoor
broost, to gov tho goft of lof otsolf. Bot ovon moro
wondorfol os tho woo on whoch yoo woll consoov thos
proshos goft," Hermes began.
"Ot os oosy ond vory ploosont. Yoor portnor woll tok
yoo to o soclodod spot ond toll yoo how byotofol yoo
or. how moch ho lovs yoor bodo. Ho woll koss hos
fovorot ports, yoor nock, yoor lops, yoor oos. Os ho
tolks ond kossos yoo, ho woll froo yoor boobs from
thor holtor ond bogon to fondl thom ontol thoo or
hord. O gorontoo yoo'll lok thot. Whon ho bogons
kossong ond sockong yoor tottoos, yoo'll fond yoor
noppols gottong hord ond yoo'll bo sorro yoo hovon't
don thos bofor. Yoo'll bo onjoyong hos mooth on yoor
booboos so woll, yoo proboblo won't ovon notos whon ho
polls yoor toghts off, bot yoo'll sor notos whon ho
slops o coopl of fongors onto yoor droppong possy.
The nervous god could see Hypolyte's anger building,
but most of the Amazons were rapt and the younger ones
were fidgeting in their seats. "Yoo'll lov whot ho
con do down thor, osposholly whon hos thomb fonds yoor
clot. Tho plorol of `clot,' BTW os `clotorodos,' on
cos ony of yoo or locko enoogh to hov two," the god
added parenthetically, recalling a recent thread in
ASSD.
"Oftor ho gots yoo off sovorol toms, frost worth hos
fongors ond thon woth hos tong, yoo morlly roost on
yoor bock - woll thor or lots of positions, bot
moshonoro os bost for bogonnors - ond ollow yoor lovor
to foll yoor snotch woth hos prock. Somotoms, ons os
onoogh to knock you op, bot yoo'll proboblo wont hom
to spond sovorol wooks ropotong tho prososs sovorol
toms o doo, jost to bo on tho sof s . . ."
<SMMMAACK>
Hermes's speech was interrupted by a slap far harder
than Hypolyte's deliver by a large Amazon
distinctively clad in red bustier and blue spangled
tights. "Lying, foul-mouthed male!" Wonder Woman
screamed.
"It's not like that, at all, my sisters. I've been
into the World of Men and I've seen how it really is.
Your `partner' will likely be drunk, have a three
day's growth of beard and a big belly from swilling
wine. His idea of foreplay will be to tell you you've
got great hooters and make a grab. As you try to
fight the slob off, he'll rip your tights. If you're
smart you'll knee him in the balls and send him
slinking back to his cave. If not, he'll poke you
with his prick, thrust it in a couple of times until
her comes, and immediately go to sleep."
"Oh, and our `divine messenger' left out a few other
things, too. Between the `poke and shoot' and the
`little lips suckling at your breast' - yikes- come
nine months of weight gain, nausea, waddling like a
duck, tit's so big you get back strain, and giving
birth itself, which is no picnic."
A commotion ensued in which the younger Amazons,
thought they'd like to accept the god's offer, or at
least sample the demonstration, but the Queen and the
older warriors, led by Wonder Woman prevailed.
Consequently it was black and blue divine messenger
that arrived back on Mt. Olympus to admit defeat.
"I could have told you it would be hopeless trying to
reason with those frigid bitches," Aphrodite smirked.
There's only one thing that can make those sorry
excuses for females spread those over-muscled legs:
lust! Let me care of this."
A few hours later Aphrodite was peering intently at a
green monitor. The image was being relayed from
Cupid's AAACP (Amorous Air Attack Communications
Package) as the little god hovered a safe distance off
the coast of Paradise Island. She smiled as the image
from the laser-guided cruise arrow grew, showing first
the island, then a rocky cleft and finally a spring of
water gushing from the hillside, before the screen
blanked on impact. "Bull's eye!" Aphrodite exclaimed.
"When they start drinking from this spring, the fun
will begin."
****
If Queen Hypolyte thought things would get back to
normal after she sent that obscene messenger of the
gods packing, she was wrong. She was quite upset at
how close the younger Amazons had come to falling for
Hermes's pitch. Too much youthful energy, she decided
and the ordered monthly combat training sessions
increased to three times a week. Of course she did
not know about the proximity of a certain spring to
the training grounds.
Things went from bad to worse. At first, the drill
sergeants merely reporting that every time their backs
were turned, their changes had there fingers in their
cunts. And back in barracks, no matter how hard they
tried, their officers could not prevent the girls
going down on each other every night. The Queen
ordered even more intense drills and harder work and
was pleased she heard several weeks later that the
troops were going out on maneuvers every day.
Deciding to ride out to see this improvement for
herself, she was shocked to find the training grounds
empty but the nearly groves filled with rutting
females, with each sergeant having at least two
recruits between her legs.
*****
"Hephaestus honey, I'm home!" Aphrodite tinkled. She
spent a long day answering a last minute prayer of
Allison George, whose fianc‚, shocked to learn that
his bride-to-be sometimes went to work without
panties, seemed to be getting cold feet about the
wedding. It had been a total success, but the way she
left the happy couple had her horny as hell. The
Goddess of Love was looking forward to a nice pounding
from her hunky husband. She was so hot, she decided
not even to make him shower first. As usual, she
found him at the forge.
"What are you working on, Sweetie? she asked slipping
her arm around his hard sweaty body. The strong
masculine smell made her as wet as he was.
"Hi, Aph," Hephaestus replied, accepting a passionate
kiss from his hot-to trot wife. "Big order came in
today. Something's going on up at Paradise Island;
about time, too. Queen Hypolyte has asked me to ship
her 5,000 vibrators with rechargeable batteries ASAP."
"Vibrators?" Aphrodite inquired, beaming.
"Something's got into those frigid bitches up there,
or soon will," he said holding up a round thick
prototype. "Want to try it?
"I'd rather have the creator than the creation," the
goddess cooed, reaching between her husband's legs for
the source of his inspiration. Suddenly she stopped.
"Honey, could you do me a favor?
"Anything for you babe," he said starting to fondle
those classic boobs.
"Fix those vibrators to shut off just before the user
comes."
"But that will leave all the Amazons horny as skunks,"
"Just like I am right now. Take me to couch and fuck
me, you stud!"
*****
Being from the royal family, Drucilla was not, to her
dismay, able to participate in the strange things she
had heard of going on among the troops. In fact, she
was seldom allowed to leave the extensive palace
grounds. One day, however, as she walked far from the
palace in the royal pastures, she came upon a very
handsome steer. "Pretty cow," she said and began to
pat it. The steer responded by starting to nuzzling
her boobs. "Naughty cow!" she laughed. "No! Uuh
No! Ahh That feels good. Don't pus . . .Ooops!"
Before she knew it, the young Amazon was on her back
and the steer was licking her between her legs.
"Stop! OUUU! Oh, god! Oh no. I'm getting fucked by
a COW! This is so wrong!"
Then, before her eyes and between her spayed legs,
Drucilla saw a golden mist envelope the steer and in
its place knelt a bearded god of indefinite age.
"Perhaps so, my dear, but as the Italians will say,
`Quod licit Jovi, non licit bovi,' Zeus pontificated
and slid his divinely engorged cock into the helpless
girl's waiting pussy.
A few hours later Drucilla was awaking from a nice
post-orgasmic nap and found herself looking up into a
now-familiar bearded face. "Oh my God!" she sighed.
"That was sooo kewl"
"Thank you my dear, but you needn't be so formal.
Call me Zeusie."
"Wow, I just feel so full of ."
"'Zeus juice'" the god replied proudly.
"This must be what that funny captive god was talking
about a few week ago. Does this mean . I'm ...
"No, no, my dear. That's the reason I was licking you
so intently, to be sure you were NOT fertile right
now. The last thing we need is more dimi-gods. They
tend to set up their own cults, split the worshiper
base even more. Some, like the ungrateful son of
mine, Hercules, even get their own TV shows, movie
contracts, and web pages!"
"So, I don't understand."
"Drucilla, this is not the time for a talk about the
aves et apes. Now if you'd like to find another
handsome steer next week, why don't you be a good girl
and take Queen Hypolyte a nice fresh pitcher of water
from the spring where you girls drink during
practice."
"Anything for you, Zeusie, baby!" the horny young
Amazon squealed and pounced on the bemused god,
delaying his departure for Mt. Olympus by another half
day. When she awoke the next time she was alone but
there was note lying on a folded garment.
Dru, my huggable heifer,
I won't be needing this again; keep it to
remember me by until our next tryst. Be sure
to wear it when you visit Hypolyte.
Love,
Zeus the Bruce
"No! He is sooo sweet!" the happy girl exclaimed,
"Just what I wanted," she exclaimed as she held the
gift up admiringly. "A Chicago Bulls play jersey."
Even as she examined her divine lover's keepsake, her
eyes grew large and an idea dawned. "Of course!
Anybody should have know Michael Jordan wasn't really
mortal!"
****
"OK, Aphrodite. I pulled the old heifer-in-the-
pasture routine on her. Amazing, how even after
Europa, women keep falling for that one! I understand
telling her to take the pitcher of water, but what's
with the play jersey.
"Daddy, don't you remember back in the Trojan War when
Hera wanted to distract you so she could help the
Trojans. She came on to you that night all tarted up
and got your so hot all you could do was fuck her for
days?"
"Don't I? While she was fucking my brains out, the
Greeks almost lost the war. And it was all because of
that damned magic .."
"That's right, Daddy. The play jersey is really my
magic girdle that makes the wearer irresistibly
attractive."
"So when Drucilla visits Hypolyte ."
"She'll be very persuasive"
****
"No, Dru, baby. Don't do this to Mommy. Noooo!
"Why not, Mommy?" Dru asked slyly looking up from
between the Queen's plump legs "You like it don't
you?" she asked resuming her careful eating of the
royal snatch.
"Oh, yes, baby, but we shouldn't .Oohhh. I just .
just . want"
"Want to come, Mommy?"
"Yessss! Please, baby"
"And you promise to invite Mr. Hermes back?"
"No, Dru. He'll . NO don't just stop like that!"
"When you say he can come, you can"
"No! . Nooooo, . YESSSSSSS!"
For the next few hours Paradise Island was filled with
the sounds of a Bacchanalia of lezzie love.
****
A smiling and unbound Hermes was standing before the
assembled Amazons. "Queen Hypolyte, Princesses,
Strategeons, Amazon Warriors, Ladies. I am delighted
to accept this kind return invitation from you,
gracious Queen Hypolyte, to allow me to renew the
petition from our Father Zeus. The scarves are a
token of our esteem; they are from my own shop" A
titter of ohhs and ahhs rippled trough the gathering.
"We are indeed at a turning point in the relations
between gods and men. You Amazons are now called upon
to step forward, to go into the world of men and
willingly to submit, to give your selves. This will
not be easy, we know. You will have to leave aside
your armor and doll yourselves up like the babymakers
you are to become ."
Hermes realized that something was not going right
with is speech. The women who had seemed receptive at
first had begun to scowl. Nervously he continued.
"Only in seeming weakness can you find true strength.
Only by lowering yourselves ." The buzz angry
whispers and the ominous pounding of the floor with
Amazon spears interrupted the god.
"For Crissake shut up, Hermes!" Aphrodite boomed
striding onto the dais. "Stupid male!' she grumbled.
"It isn't that way at all, girls. Yes, we want you to
fuck, fuck like bunny rabbits. We need kids, lots of
kids. Pop one out every year if you can. But don't
take any of that `submit' crap. You've got the best,
the tightest, the hottest pussies of any group of
females on the planet. And you can say when, where,
how often and by whom they get filled. Males will do
anything to dip their wicks in your hot boxes. You
can have all the sex you want, from as many men as you
want, on your terms! Believe me, ladies, on Olympus,
there isn't a thunderbolt hurled, a storm whipped up,
or a foolish maiden turned into an oak tree that isn't
cleared with ME. Gods think with the same organ men
do. Fuck'em good enough and they'll do anything you
say."
To cheers and shouts of "Alright!" and "Go get'em" the
Amazons rushed to the APCs (Amorous Personnel Craft)
Poseidon had standing by to take them to:
****
Bamini:
"Winter Meeting of the USSA (United States Superhero
Association)" proclaimed the banner outside the luxury
hotel. Inside a serious gathering was underway to
discuss strategies against supervilians, workshops on
protecting secret identities, a seminar on cooperation
between DC and Marvel superheroes, etc. Serious, yes,
but truth be told, at night some of the younger
superheroes were out trolling for a little island poon
tang.
Suddenly, in the middle of the keynote address,
Superboy's paper "Red Kryptonite Mitigation and
Recovery Strategies," all Hades broke loose. Scores
of sex-crazed Amazons burst in and launched themselves
on every poor unsuspecting superhero in sight <big
crocodile tear> amid anguished cries!
"Look at that crotch!"
"I'm getting me one of those!"
"Oh my god, it's soooo big!"
"Let go of him you hussy! This one's mine. I saw him
first!"
Soon red, blue yellow, and green spandex was flying
through the air as the horny women began fighting over
the hapless superheroes. "Apollo, we have a problem,"
the god mused to himself. Trouble was, there were far
more Amazons than superheroes. There weren't nearly
enough men to go around <bigger crocodile tear>.
Realizing if he didn't act fast, the overheated women
would tear the superheroes limb from limb, Apollo
signaled to Orpheus to touch his magic lyre.
Instantly calm prevailed.
"Ladies, please! I appreciate that you are eager to
get started on your, er, task, but there is no need
for disorder," Athena injected. "Remember these are
superheroes, so they do not suffer the . er, . , hum .
limitations that ordinary mortal men do. I think you
will find that with a little forbearance, you can work
out a cooperative relationship that leaves everyone
satisfied."
With some effort, the Goddess of Reason was able to
convince the rambunctious Amazons that a group of four
or five women could share a superhero. Queen Hypolyte
and the more important members of her court chose
Superman. Other senior Amazons were assigned old line
heroes such as Captain Marvel. A cohort led by Wonder
Woman got Batman. The more adventurous Amazons went
for Green Lantern, Aquaman and the Hulk. A kinky
bunch chose Plasticman. A clutch of horny young
Amazons latched onto younger heroes - Drucilla's
squadron, for example took home Superboy; others
scarfed up Captain Marvel Jr. and Robin.
Needless to say, a gaggle of hot-to-trot Amazons soon
reconciled its superhero to giving up his former life,
as he discovered his domestic obligations to service
his perpetually horny wives left him little energy for
crimefighting and was a lot more fun, anyway. Wives?
Of course! The confection of Lucinda's and Allison's
wedding dresses had to be postponed as seamstresses
all over the globe were deluged by orders for wedding
gowns cut to 44-28-44 figures and up. Hephaestus was
up for nights turning out thousands of wedding bands.
The Rev. Sun Young Moon himself couldn't have been
prouder than Zeus who presided over the mass ceremony
in the packed Great Hall on Olympus. Surrounded by a
group of eager brides, each quavering superhero swore
an unbreakable oath by the River Stix, "I do, I do, I
do, I do, ." before being taken home where a clutch of
horny women made sure he did, and did, and did and
did."
There was just one problem that not even Athena had
considered. After living together for 3000 years all
the Amazons' fertility cycles had become synchronized.
About two months after the happy Amazons rushed home
with their treasures, an epidemic of morning sickness
swept over Paradise Island.
Soon every flat Amazon tummy on the island was bulging
and bulging. Things only got cranked up a notch when
the women discovered that the water spiked by Cupid's
arrows had made them not only super horny, but super
fertile, as well. Every happy mommy-to-be found she
was going to give birth to three, or four, or even
five babies. Fortunately, the superheros were Men of
the Millennium. Lamaze classes gave way to hectic
hours of coaching their wives in simultaneous labor.
All to soon the joy of delivering their own babies was
over and the costumed super-daddies were running
ragged, changing diapers, burping infants, and trying
to sing the little brats to sleep, while still having
to satisfy the raging sexual appetites of their wives.
But, hey, what are super powers for, anyway, except to
be used! Each superhero had to solve this problem in
his on way. Superman, super-conscientious of course,
rushed around at super speed from sprong to screaming
sprong. Spiderman slung the babies on a kind of
conveyor belt so he could swing each little bottom
into place as soon as it needed freshening. Batman
tried to hang his babies from the wall until his wives
saw that he was hopeless and brought in Alfred to
handle the chores. Aquaman suggested enlisting the
help of several faithful octopi (hissuns could breath
under water), but his wives were suspicious that he
just wanted an excuse to get away with his less
demanding mermaid ex-girlfriends. Anyway, they
refused to separated from their quints.
With all it's superheroes out of commission, what will
the world come to? Will the likes of Lex Luthor,
Joker, and Savanna overrun the world? Fortunately,
no. Cupid has been at work on the supervilianesses,
too, who crashed the Supervillian's Annual Retreat and
Workshop, so all the bad boys are also too busy being
daddies to cause much trouble.
This is the way the world ends,
Not with a bang, but a whimper.
The End
Notes:
Apollo: Handsome (think mesuen statue) son of Zeus
and Hera, god of the Sun. He drives the chariot of
the Sun across the sky each day.
Zeus: Equivalent to the Roman Jupiter. Lots of
stories about him chasing and knocking up mortal
women. Heracles (Hurcules) is on such demi-god.
Hermes: "Mercury" The messenger of the gods. Flies
with winged sandals by Nike, godess of victory (just
kidding!). He carries the Caduceus, the serpent-
entwined magic wand, symbol of prescription drugs.
Aphrodite: "Venus" Zeus's daughter (in one version).
Goddess of Love (not marriage, not children just
LOVE.)
Hera: Zeus's jealous wife. She is goddess of marriage
and the home and rival of Aphrodite. Bears a grudge,
as does Athena, agaist Aprhodite because the Trojan
(not the brand of condom) Paris (not the city) chose
Aphrodite over her in a celestial beauty contest.
Paris's prize was Helen and when he took her home, the
Trojan war broke out. Please see my "Iliad" for more
details.
Hephaestus: Ahphrodite's husband, equivalent of
Vulcan. He is the blacksmith/weapon maker for the
gods. He was punished for something by being made
lame.
Selene: Goddess of the moon.
"Aves et apes" birds and bees (in Latin)
"Quod licit Jovi, not licit bovi." What is
permissible for Jove (Zeus) is not permissible for the
cow." (Latin saying.)
Delphic Oracle: The priestess of Apollo's shrine at
Delphi went down into a cave (presumably smelling
vapors coming up from the Underworld) and prophesied
the future.
Hades: God of the Underworld, brother to Zeus. (Also
the place) Both good and evil persons went to Hades.
Good folks, especially heroes, go the Elysian Fields
(Champs Elysees in French)
Cerberus: The three headed dog that guarded the gates
of Hades
Demeter: Goddess of grain and harvests, equivalent to
Ceres (cereals? Get it?) Her daughter Persephone
was abducted by Hades and lives with him as his wife
for six months of the year, making Demeter sad and so
no crops grow in winter.
Athena: Goddess of reason. Patron of Athens
Poseidon: Another of Zeus's brother, God of the Sea.
Celeste: Goddess and reviewer of ASS/D
Woden: (Oden) Equivalent of Zeus in Norse mythology.
Wednesday (Woden's day) is derived from his name
Ovid: Latin poet, retold lots of gods and goddesses
stories in Metamorphose
Virgil: Latin Poet, author of Aeneid, a "sequel" to
Iliad and Oddessy telling of the flight of Aeneus from
Troy and aided by Venus, founding of Rome.
Homer: I wrote Iliad the story of the Trojan war
between the Greeks and Illium (= Troy): Paris was a
prince of Illium; and the Oddessy, the story of the
journey home of Ulysses (Oddesses).
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sun, not thinking about adult situations. Do
your part to make our world a little safer.
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