Aphrodite's Gift

by Yoni Steele

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© Copyright 2002 - Yoni Steele - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; bdsm; cbt; entombed; nc; XXX

Aphrodite's Gift by Yoni Steele F/m; bdsm; cbt; nc; XXX

Gods and Goddesses.  Can�t live with them.  Can�t live without them.  I thought that Aphrodite would be a sweet, beneficent goddess.  I was wrong.  Well, sort of.  I suppose that it is possible to piss off even the kindest, most loving people � or goddesses -- if you work hard at it -- or if you just accidentally stumble upon the one thing that cracks them open.  Ironically, I wasn�t trying to make her mad; I was trying to impress her.  I had no idea that her temple would be damaged in any way; I certainly wouldn�t have guessed that it would be completely destroyed!  

And now the pile of rocks that was once a beautiful memorial building with carefully sculpted columns of marble is my everlasting prison.  To ensure its permanence, she had her wicked half-brother Hermes fuse the crumbled blocks of granite and marble into a thick shell of solid rock, with a spacious, but inescapable cave inside for me.  And to make sure that I have plenty of time to appreciate the hellish prison that she has condemned me to live in, the devious goddess actually gave me my dearest wish (although I really wish that she hadn�t): she made me immortal!

Why did I want immortality?  Well, frankly I was jealous of that stupid, muscle-bound Hercules.  I wanted to be an immortal like him.  I didn�t care about living on Olympus, but life eternal was such a desirable thing.  Unlike that moron who managed to get lost for a couple of decades after attacking Troy, I am smart, very smart, and talented, too.  I knew that if I was immortal I would eventually be the richest man in the world.  And that has a distinct appeal to it.  So I did nice things for Aphrodite as she has a reputation for showing appreciation to those who respect and adore her.  In fact, I designed and directed the construction of this once beautiful temple for her, so her worshipers could come and adore the immense marble statues of her -- some of which I had personally carved -- and leave their offerings of gold, silver and jewels.  The huge structure rivalled the Parthenon, which was built by one of my most intense competitors for that stunning but stupid goddess of war, Athena.  (It�s hard to believe that some people call her the Goddess of Wisdom.  Goddess Without Wisdom is more like it!)  Well, I am digressing.  If I had known that I was going to end up as the only permanent resident of Aphrodite�s temple, I would have built a secret underground exit like I did in that building I designed for that asshole politician Deroticus.

The construction project took a long time, but it was worth it.  Aphrodite actually liked the place a lot, in fact much more than I would have expected.  I guess that she is a little bit jealous of Athena, although I�m not sure why.  The dark-haired Aphrodite is clearly the most spectacular gem among all the goddesses in Olympus.  At the temple dedication ceremony, she smiled graciously at me, and said �It is a very sweet and lovely gesture of fealty.  You will hold a special place in my heart forever, even though you are merely a mortal.  This earthly temple is a splendid monument.  I will certainly stay here every time that I come down from Olympus.  So, dearest subject, how would you like to be rewarded by your appreciative goddess?�

I returned her smile with one of my own.  It was amazing that she could look so beautiful in such a simple robe of white cotton and gold trim, but she is, after all, the goddess of love.  I suspect that she would look positively bewitching even if draped only in rags.  �Well, I made this building to last forever, you know, with lots of extra buttressing and reinforced archways and extra large columns,� I began.  �I�d like to be around to watch it outlast all the others built by all other mortals.�  It was a bold reply, and perhaps a bit stupid and offensive.  I knew that it was considered to be blasphemous to make such a request, but it was a one-shot deal  As I expected, she wasn�t amused by my answer.  She warned me that mortals shouldn�t even dare to ask such things, but as I had made such a magnificent structure to honor her, she would find something truly magnificent as a reward for me. 

Well, my claim was accurate; it would have lasted forever -- if I hadn�t meddled in the love affairs of a few gods!  But I did, so the temple was destroyed.  When it tumbled to the ground, her eyes blazed with a fire so intense that I thought that I had been given a glimpse of Hades; I was certain that she was going to kill me on the spot.  But she quickly calmed down; her dark green eyes sparkled as she admitted that she was still committed to rewarding me for my personal display of adoration: design and construction of the temple, even though I was subsequently responsible for its destruction. 

It was then that she unexpectedly granted me my wish and bestowed immortality upon me; but it was a gift with a twist.  �I give you the life of the gods so you can use all of eternity to make up for your brainless mistake,� she hissed.  I was delighted, and promised that I would rebuild the temple a thousand times over.  Stupidly, I didn�t think to actually apologize, although I don�t know if it would have made any difference.  Because then she suddenly gave me a glimpse of the depth of her anger and screamed at me, �Some day you will have the privilege of building a new temple for me, and it will be a hundred times larger than your original, but not today.  In fact, not for ten thousand years!�  It was only then that I realized I was in serious trouble, although I didn�t know what kind; I wished that she had just asked Zeus to fry me with one of those lightning bolts of his.   With a sudden, painful flash of insight I realized that the �gift� of immortality was simply her way of making my punishment, whatever it was going to be, last a very, very, very long time.

So here I am, entombed forever in a mountain of rock.  Personally, I think that imprisoning a person inside a cave for eternity is a sufficiently cruel punishment.  There was no reason for Aphrodite to put me into bondage like this, too, nor to torture me so mercilessly.  The heavy sheath of leather and metal that she used to lock my arms together behind my back really wasn�t necessary.  They really hurt.  A lot.  Am I supposed to get used to this pain?  I don�t see how that is humanly (or inhumanly) possible.  My forearms, from the elbows to the wrists, are pressed so tightly against each other by the sheath that they might as well have been fused like the rock shell around me.  (I had no idea that it was possible to make a person�s elbows touch each other!)  And my hands are individually encased in rigid, steel gloves that prevent me from touching anything, even another finger.  There aren�t a lot of things to do in a cave, but it would have been nice to be able to scratch my nose when it itches, like it does at the moment, or to play with the rocks inside my prison.  And there are quite a few of those strewn around the marble floor.

And these infernal sandals that she made to encase my feet are unlike anything that I have ever worn.  In fact, I�ve never even seen anything like them.  They completely encase my feet, which are bent downwards in the graceful arch of a dancer, and held that way, rigidly by leather and stone; the red leather boots cover my legs all the way up my thigh and are tautly laced with metal wires.  A thin crystal spike beneath each heel forces me to walk on my toes, without respite.  And the leather that ensheaths my legs is so thick that I can barely bend them to walk. On second thought, that is probably a good thing because otherwise my ankles might collapse from the awful strain!

How will I ever learn to tolerate the ache in my feet from the unnatural arch that she has condemned me to endure???  Even dancers don�t walk this way for more than a few steps.  And of course, they don�t have to deal with the hindrance of a horse�s hobble, spreading their ankles apart by nearly two cubits!

Ow!  A muscle spasm, as sharp as any I�ve ever felt.  I should have anticipated that.  The strain on my legs from standing on my toes with my legs spread apart like some pack animal is awful.  And it will get worse.  But there is no way for me to lie down or to sit on the floor.  And with the round wall of my prison arches away from me at the base, so I can�t even lean against the it for support.  She knew that, too.  Nasty, vindictive goddess! 

She knew that the pain in my arms and legs would be excruciating.  But apparently that wasn�t enough for her.  So she encased my head in this blood red, leather helmet, too.  The two small round, jewel-filled holes are almost impossible to look through; it drives me crazy because a mere tilt of my head changes the appearance of the room in bizarre ways.  The faceted jewels sparkle and glint, too, and create multiple images that are constantly changing, which is very disorienting.  And the nasty leather-covered, massive steel ball which completely fills my mouth stretches my jaw to the point were it seems like it should break.  But it won�t because the stiff cowhide mask squeezes my face very nicely, thank you.  So my mouth hurts from being stretched to the limit, and I feel as though the rest of my head is grasped in a uniform vise that compresses every square centimeter of skin.  In addition, the constant taste of leather reminds me of beefsteak, which makes me hungry.  Of course, the gag will forever keep me from eating, although she told me it was to keep me silent.

Yeah, right.  Who am I going to talk to in here, alone forever?  I suspect that I would probably have deafened myself with my screams for mercy after only a short while.  The sound would have echoed endlessly off the smooth, curved stone walls.  But that possibility is gone.  Instead I hear my own heart pounding and the clack of the stone heels as I walk ceaselessly in these infernal sandals.

Aphrodite really plays unfair.  I didn�t hurt anyone.  The goblet that I took from the altar was still in the main gift room, although hidden behind a marble column.  I only took a few drops of the love potion to put into Zeus�s drink, and a few more for her drink.  The idea of Zeus falling deeply in love with his own daughter in a not-so-fatherly way seemed funny to me.  It�s not like the gods and goddesses of Olympus have perfectly monogamous relationships.  Heck, Zeus himself is a perfect example of that; his two daughters have different mothers.  So who would have thought that beautiful Hera would have been so upset and enraged when she saw Zeus and his own daughter, the lovely Aphrodite, passionately kissing each other???  Since Aphrodite is the goddess of love, it seemed pretty natural to me.  Anyway, I didn�t even know that Hera knew how to control his thunderbolts.  Who would have guessed that in anger the normally gentle Hera would have used that thunder and his lightning bolts to turn Aphrodite�s temple into a pile of rubble?

Now all that I see as I walk around in this temple, or solitary prison I should say, are images of Aphrodite.  The collar holds my head upwards so all I can look at is the ceiling, which is adorned with lovely paintings of her.  Seeing her half-naked in all those images will drive me insane with lust before too much time has elapsed, I�d wager.  She has such a sensuously stunning body and a face of unparalleled grace and elegance.  Aphrodite is the perfect manifestation of desire.  So if the intensely sexual pictures of her don�t drive me crazy, the smell of all the food that she has placed around the room to torment me surely will.  With my head tilted upwards, I can�t see any of it, but I can smell the fruit and berries and other luscious treats that she has preserved so they will stay fresh for all of eternity.  It isn�t fair.  I will never die for want of nourishment because of my immortality, but I will remain hungry forever, suffering the pangs of starvation in a room filled with the tantalizing and sweet scents of all of my favorite foods!

But the worst torments of all are the sexual ones.  My sexual frustration stems from so much more than being exposed to a visual feast of erotic images of my beautiful goddess.  From my ball sack hangs a massive weight that bobs up and down and sways from side to side with each step that I take, yanking my balls down or frontward or backwards or to the left or to the right, creating a slightly different pain with each unpredictable jerk.  The leather cord that encircles the top of my ball sack is painfully tight, and seems to be getting gradually tighter as time passes.  And the coarse reed that my wicked goddess inserted into my prick to keep it uselessly erect forever creates a pain that I would never have even imagined in a nightmare.  The cords that she wrapped tightly around my organ from the base to the tip only serve to make the torment even worse by compressing my throbbing penis around the rough surface of the reed.  So each pulse of my engorged cock as I am lustfully inspired by the pictures around me is more a source of astounding agony than one of exquisite pleasure!

But that torment is only one component of my living nightmare.  The Mighty Aphrodite took my joke as an affront to her gender, and came up with a devilish form of retribution.  After she had fettered my arms and legs, and connected that nasty ball to my nuts, she used her magic to enlarge my masculine breasts.  She touched each nipple with a glowing finger, and slowly pulled it away from my body causing my male chest to expand outwards into a fully developed mammary of mammoth proportions.  Their immense size and perfect proportions would make most men drool lustfully.  My new, awesome breasts and the leather and metal girdle that compresses my waist to a remarkably narrow size combine to give me an intensely desirable female shape; but their extreme proportions emphasize the fact that the appearance is merely a magical artifice to confuse my sexual nature.

So that I might know what a woman feels when properly adored, she massaged the breasts with gentle caresses and sweet, loving kisses.  I was amazed at how wonderful it felt as she held my new globes in her warm fingers.  I had never done that for any woman that I had lied down with; and I felt a pang of guilt about it, knowing at last how I had deprived them of pleasure.  But I had little time to dwell upon that as she turned her attention to my stiff, distended nipples.

When she sucked on my incredibly tender cherries, I thought that I would die from bliss!  This torment, if it could be called that, continued for quite a while.  As she sucked on one swollen bud, she squeezed, kneaded and twisted the other.  It was an astounding experience that I hoped would never end.  I purred like a happy kitten.  But it was a form of torture, too, although I didn�t realize it at the time.  Never in my life had I ever felt anything so wonderful.  And it kept feeling better and better by the instant.  If it were possible to explode from too much pleasure, I would surely have done it then.  I was thoroughly immersed in the exquisite sensations that were concentrated in my nipples but flowed into every fiber of my body and overwhelmed all conscious thoughts.  It was positively electric!  I was transported to another state of being that was completely beyond all my conceptions of erotic pleasure.  Aphrodite teased me mercilessly, expertly driving the pleasure up with her fingers and tongue, and then changing her point of sexual attention so that I reached multiple plateaus and each time moved up to another level of ecstasy.   I was so completely immersed in the sensations flooding throughout my body that I hadn�t even realized that she had stopped until the pleasure began to ebb away. 

My head had not yet been encased in its leather helmet when she transformed and teased me, so I was able to look at her in confusion.  I was gagged at that point, however, so I was unable to plead with her to go on.  I asked her with my eyes why she had stopped.  It was the last time that she spoke to me.  �It gets even better as the stimulation continues, and is truly heavenly when a woman climaxes, but you will never know that state, my little bitch.  From now on, you will never know pleasure without pain, and the pain will always dominate in the end, leaving you with overwhelming emptiness and desire.  I wanted you to experience pure womanly pleasure so with a single touch of my finger, I made your cock insensitive while I ministered to your breasts and nipples. 

�And now with another touch, I return the sensation, but your organ will be more sensitive than ever so you can feel every single needle on that reed that I have inserted into it.  You will go through endless cycles of stimulation that will truly be more intense each time, but the pain will also be worse each time because the cords will grow tighter while the reed inside your member grows thicker; so your needs will get greater and your frustration will get worse, but will never end.  In particular, that nasty little reed will move about like a centipede inside your prick, so the many sites of pain will change each day.  The growing pleasure and pain will be an addiction unlike anything that any human being has ever experienced.  Each cycle of delight will be greater than the last; however, the level of pleasure that you require for a climax will continually grow as well, and will remain forever just beyond your grasp. 

�Unfortunately, the pain that you experience, in your arms and legs, in your jaws, in your cock and balls, and, yes, even in your new bust and nipples will grow along with that desire.  You will wish for mortality, my little bitch, just so you can finally die and end the maddening anguish and yearning.  But you completely humiliated me in the sight of the other gods and goddesses to a degree that no other god or goddess ever did, and that makes me very angry.  As others before you have learned, my vengeance has no bounds.  So your suffering will have no bounds.  Enjoy eternity.�

She then encased my wonderful new breasts in a truly torturous bra of leather cords.  A single, wide leather strap encircles the base of each gigantic orb to make it stick out obscenely , like an over-ripe melon.  And the surfaces of my two beautiful globes are criss-crossed with a web of spiked straps that are clearly too short to comfortably enclose my big tits.  The viciously tight straps create valleys in my soft mounds of flesh where they press into the surfaces, so the uncovered flesh bulges out between the woven straps..  Large metal needles protrude from the outside on some of the straps, like porcupine needles, as if to warn off any potential attacker while tiny ones on the inside of all the straps pierce and irritate my swollen mounds. 

My carrot-sized nipples are not covered by any straps.  Instead, each one sticks out like a cow�s tit through the center of a heavy gold ring which serves as the anchor point for the radial leather straps that extend down to the base straps.  The narrow bands of gold are like wedding rings on a finger, except that the ring is too small.  This makes the engorged tips thicker and stiffer and even more sensitive.  And the trapped blood makes them hurt in the same way that my tumescent penis hurts, but it seems even more concentrated somehow. 

To amuse herself, after she had placed my breasts into the confining web of leather, Aphrodite gave each swollen bud another kiss and stimulating suck which made me swoon again despite the pain that burned every muscle of my body.  I wanted to kneel down to thank her for the sexual delight that I could never, ever have conceived of.  But of course I was incapable of performing that act; and then, as before, she stopped. 

What she did next completely shocked me.  She pierced each nipple with a burning hot needle.  (I don�t even know where the needle came from or how she heated it, but then, she is a goddess.)  Then she forced large gold rings through the hole in each nipple, pressed the gold edges together, and then ran her index finger over the joint.  In a sparkle of light, the seams from the joints were gone, making the rings whole.  I was, with that simple action, marked permanently as a sex slave.

She added one more last to completely degrade me.  She bent down in front of me and took my tethered cock in one hand.  She stroked it gently, which was at once both a source of exquisite pleasure and intense agony because of the reed enclosed inside it, just as she said it would be.  Surprisingly, my long-haired goddess even kissed it, which was astonishingly enjoyable.  Her tongue felt positively delicious as it swirled affectionately around my stiff organ, but it also made the ache grow to an inconceivable degree because of the tight bondage that forever encases my organ. 

I knew that I was truly in the land of the gods as she continued to make my pleasure and pain increase together in a bizarrely mixed harmony.  And then she stopped, just as she did a few moments earlier when she massaged my tits with her tongue.  I was so close to coming, I wanted to scream at her to continue, but of course I could not because of my gag.  And then, when I was at the peak of sensitivity, I felt the spike pierce my cock.  It was a pain more excruciating than anything that I had ever felt before.  She left the white-hot needle in the head for an interminable period.  My cock would have shriveled down to a molehill if it had not been so thoroughly trussed.  When she finally pulled out the shaft, the skin stuck to it, causing me to experience another wave of hellish agony.  The ring that she inserted through the hole that she had burned through my flesh was much too large, but she made it fit.  And again, she worked her magic to seal the ring into a continuous sold band, but this time because of the large size of the ring, I felt the heat of her mystical weld.  When she released my cock, I was quite surprised by the mass that suddenly pulled down on my swollen member.  The ring in the head of my cock will forever prevent me from enjoying the pleasure of a woman if somehow I ever escape this prison, and it will always remind me that I am forever the possession of the goddess Aphrodite.

Having completed my wicked bondage and transformation, Aphrodite then encased my head in the leather helmet that I mentioned before.  She deviously wanted me to see all the things that she did to me.  And now she wants me to see only her.  No torturer in the king�s dungeons was ever so wicked or merciless, because those victims always attained the ultimate escape from their torments: death.  With my immortality, I will never experience such relief.  My only hope is that someday Aphrodite will decide that she has punished me enough.  Unfortunately, it has occurred to me that she might simply forget about me as her life�s activities distract her thoughts from me.  In that case, nothing will end my torment, and that is too awful to contemplate.

All this seems too cruel a punishment for my minor offense.  And yet she has found one final insult that makes my bondage and pain and pleasure even more pronounced.  It isn�t really another constricting strap or piercing needle.  It is what keeps me moving so that the ball weight bounces and the gold rings in my nipples and cock become points of unending stimulation.  In the center of the cavern which is my permanent dwelling place is a massive, rotating stone cylinder a dozen cubits in radius.  Two long stone rods protrude outward from that wheel on one side.  One is about the height of my ankles while the other is over my head. 

A leather thong tethers the lower rod to my penis, which is thus endlessly excited by the jerky downward pull that is a consequence of my shuffling steps as the rod pulls me around and around.  Despite the intensely erotic stimulation I will never experience the relief of a climax. 

My new, gigantic breasts are secured to the upper bar, via chains which are connected to my nipple rings.  The thick nipples are stretched achingly upwards and in opposite directions as the link points on the bar are about three cubits apart.  It would be pointless to try to describe how much it hurts to have them stretched so far apart.

This is how I will spend eternity.  I will walk unceasingly in a circle.  I will experience sexual stimulation such as no man in human history has ever experienced, but I will never experience the explosive thrill of an orgasm because I will have to endure levels of pain that no human being has ever experienced.  My view is the most thrilling one possible: an endless array of life-like images of Aphrodite, which I have discovered change with time, and are becoming increasingly more sexual and provocative.  And I smell the aromas of all that I love to eat, while my stomach gnarls hungrily for a morsel of food to digest.  All because of a stupid practical joke.

Life � particularly, endless life --  just isn�t fair�

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