Date: Tue, 26 May 2020 17:50:08 +0000 From: Ron Venable Subject: Olympus Island 10 This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. Some Chapters contain graphic descriptions of sexual acts, not all between consenting adults. If you are disturbed by reading material of this nature or should it be illegal in your location, please do us both a favor and click away now. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. CHAPTER TEN: Chester the Molester Brad barged into Dionysus's room without knocking and found the God of Wine thrusting hard and fast into Campbell Bishop's tight, willing ass. "Hey, rude much?" the red-haired Satyr exclaimed. "I don't interrupt you!" "Sorry to bother you guys--really," the blond gymnast said, "but I need help, and I need it now! I'll make it up to both of you--promise!" Dennis stopped what he was doing. "What d' ye need, lad?" he asked. "I know where Kyle Kingsbury is and how to wake him!" Brad replied. "But it won't work if the changeling leaves the island!" "Wait! What...?" Campbell was confused. "Dude, what are you talking about?" "Long story--and there's no time to explain!" the young man shot back. "I'll tell ye while we get cleaned up!" Dennis pulled out of the satyr's ass. "Looks like cold shower time!" he announced. "Do we need t' other satyrs?" "Probably wouldn't hurt!" Brad told him. "There's heavy lifting to do, and somebody needs to make sure Sheila doesn't take the changeling off the island before we locate and free the real Kyle!" "I'll contact them!" Dennis promised as he jumped out of bed. "Come along, boyo, we've got tae get cleaned up an' dressed in record time!" "AIDIA!" Brad called once he was downstairs and finished gathering his needed supplies. "Do you have cameras in the Kingsburys' basement?" "I have cameras everywhere," the AI replied. "Great!" he said. "Could you bring up an image of some clear space in their basement? Dennis is going to need to translocate us; we don't have time to drive clear across the island!" "Certainly, Bradley," the AI replied. "Are you going to remove Kyle Kingsbury from his confinement?" "I'm sure as hell gonna TRY!" the young man replied. Then: "How did you know that's what I was planning? Can you read minds as well?" "No, Bradley," the AI replied. "I can only extrapolate data; I heard the request you made to Dionysus, and since I was aware the real Kyle Kingsbury was locked in the basement, it seemed the logical choice!" "Oh my God!" Brad spat. "You knew he was there all this time? Why didn't you say something, AIDIA?" "Nobody asked." The answer was simple and direct, utterly emotionless. Brad sighed. "Sorry, AIDIA..." he said, "sometimes I forget you're a--machine..." The young man stopped himself from adding "just" to his previous comment. The Artificial Intelligence Decentralized Interactive Array wasn't "just" anything; "she" was the single most complex computer network on the planet, capable of doing amazing things, but that didn't include the ability to answer unasked questions. "OK, did you record what happened, and, if so, do you still have it on file?" "I did and I do," the AI replied. "Do you wish to see it now?" Brad would have loved to check out the footage, but there simply wasn't time. "No, just access the data and prepare to send it out with an incident report!" "I'll make sure Zeus, Hera, Ares and Hecate all get copies," the AI promised. "I will also `flag' it as MUST READ." "Thank you, AIDIA, " Brad said. "Now--please bring up a `live' feed on the Kingsburys' basement, focusing on a space with enough room for six adult males." A holographic screen popped up showing the young man what he wanted. "That's the best I can do," the AI announced. "There should be enough room for all of you to translocate into the basement. I trust that will be sufficient?" "More than enough," Dennis allowed as he clomped down the grand staircase., followed by his coterie of satyrs "Let's go, lad, time's a-wastin'!" "OK, what do we do now we're here?" Campbell asked as the six men materialized in the Kingsburys' basement. "This place is nasty!" "No doubt Sheila doesn't want anyone poking around here," Corey observed. "She keeps the place dirty, dark, and creepy to discourage unwanted visitors. Where's Kyle?" "See all those boxes against the far wall?" Brad told him. "He's being stored in a secret room behind them. We need those cleared away! There's nothing but sand inside, so you don't have to be gentle--but they're heavy! Corey, Brandon--you two go upstairs and make sure Sheila doesn't leave! I don't care how you do it--knock `em out, tie them to chairs, flatten all four of her tires--whatever it takes! Just don't let them leave!" "We can take him!; satyrs are way stronger than we look" Brandon assured the group. "Don't count on it," the young blond gymnast told them. "The Changeling is probably way stronger than a normal human and it will be fighting for its existence. Once I break the connection with Kyle all bets are off so be careful!" Corey headed for the basement stairs, but the other satyrs looked to Dennis. "Do what he says, lads!" he said, putting action to his words by starting to clear away the barrier. "Damn, these things are heavy!" Campbell grunted as he struggled to lift a large box. "Who knew sand could weigh so much!" "A hundred pounds of feathers weighs exactly the same as a hundred pounds of lead!" Brad told him as he went for a smaller box. "Sheila didn't want anyone finding the secret door." Brad heard a commotion from upstairs, so he worked harder and faster. "We'd better hurry, guys! I don't know how long Corey and Brandon can hold Sheila; if she gets the changeling away from here before I can get to the `real' Kyle, we'll never be able to wake him!" Working hard, the four people managed to clear a path to what appeared to be a doorway that was missing a handle on the outside. "So--what do we do now?" Jean-Jacques asked. "I could take me satyr form and kick it down!" "I really need tae start thinkin' like a God!" Dennis observed. ""Sure an' I could ha' `tesseracted' all this stuff away!" "Now he tells us!" Campbell grumped. "Hey, I didn't think of it either!" Brad admitted. "Do ye want me ta kick tha door in?" Jean-Jacques asked again. "NO!" Brad threw himself in front of the door! "There are four latches that need to be pressed in sequence to deactivate the explosive glyph Loki placed on the door! You try breaking through it or press them in the wrong order--BOOM!" "An' ye know tha proper sequence, lad?" Dennis asked. "I--hope so.." Brad replied. "Maybe you three better stand back just in case I get it wrong though..." The young man approached the door and pressed, exerting the exact pressure needed to open each latch until the panel swung open. "And we're in!" he announced. Inside was a stone sarcophagus. "That looks Egyptian, not Norse..." Campbell observed. "It is," the young man told him. "The Norse burn their dead, so they don't do this type of preservative magic. Loki either treated directly with Anubis or one of his disciples; I can't say which, because he fogged the past..." "Bugger!" growled Dennis. "Makes me wonder if Anubis knew who he was sellin' to an' what he was startin'..." "He knew!" the blond man said. "I can't prove that, but the pattern of other incidents makes me pretty sure of it; Loki is determined to start a war between the Asgardians and Olympus; Anubis and the Egyptians would be happy to let the two sides duke it out so they can swoop in and either pick up the pieces or vanquish whoever was left." "Shit!" Dionysus exclaimed. "An' Zeus knows none o' this?" "I warned his Majesty about this at my trial, but he certainly doesn't seem to care!" Brad replied. "Wow, I guess I know how the Prophetess Cassandra felt back in Troy." "What next?" Jean-Jacques asked. "Take the lid off, then remove the wrapped body," Brad told them. "There aren't any spells to prevent that." Dennis brought out the still form then laid it on some of the boxes they had stacked. Brad took out a pair of rubber gloves and some heavy scissors from his day pack. "Now I need to cut off the wrappings, but I don't want to risk touching Kyle's skin before I've washed it lest I fall under the same `suspension' spell they cast on him. None of you touch that stuff either because it WILL take you down!" "How long has he been under?" Campbell asked. "Something over a year," Brad replied as he started cutting. "It's an interesting spell; the body `sleeps' and doesn't require nourishment or `evacuation' but continues to grow and age--just like if it were living on the surface; Loki made sure Kyle experienced everything the changeling did-- just to twist the knife a bit. At least the real Kyle isn't `Bonded' to Dionysus..." "Wait, what?" Campbell was a little slow on the uptake. "Me `predecessor' knowingly Bonded the changeling, not Kyle Kingsbury," Dennis told the group. "Kyle is free tae be `bonded'--if an' when he chooses--but he's goin' tae remember everythin' `he' did wi' yer father." "Sadly, yes," the young man said as he continued cutting. "At least Kyle hasn't lost a year of school. Once the connection is broken with the changeling, Dionysus will lose access to Kyle's memories as well as not having any control over him." "I can handle that!" Dionysus allowed. "Poor kid!" Campbell said. "Yeah, he hasn't lost a year of school, but thanks to his bitch of a mother everyone on Olympus Island knows what the changeling and your dad did!" At least they don't know what the changeling and Ward did! Brad thought but kept this to himself; the satyrs didn't need to know that bit of dirt. "So we'll ha' tae make sure th' Gods tell their Bondsmen tae spread the word NOT t' bring this up!" Dennis said to the group. "I wish there was more we could do fer yon poor lad! Aphrodite said she'd help, so that should go a long way tae smoothin' over the worst of it for them." "So do I," Brad agreed as he finished cutting the wrappings off the young teen's pale boy-body. It was still slick with some sort of oil. "This is going to be hard for all the Kingsburys--especially Kyle." "What now, Bradley?" Dennis asked. "Now I have to clean this gunk off him," the young man replied as he reached into his backpack and brought out a fresh container of wet wipes before plucking a pair of small coins off Kyle's eyes and removing a stone from his mouth. "He'll still be asleep, but I just severed the connection with the changeling. That's likely going to make it fight all the harder, so we need to get upstairs before the other guys get hurt too badly!" Brad began wiping the stuff off; his pristine white cloth soon turned black, dirty, and foul-smelling. Brad went through nearly the whole pack of wipes before finishing. "So, what now?" Campbell asked, wrinkling his nose at the stinking mess. "We take him upstairs?" Dennis picked up the still-sleeping body. "I'll take the lad," he told the group. "Thank you, " Brad said. "As soon as the changeling sees the real Kyle, it will dissolve into the stuff from which it was made!" "I suppose we'll need tae call a `hazmat' team t' clean up this mess!" Dennis said as he scooped up the slim, still-sleeping form. "Call Hecate first," Brad told him. "She's going to have to purify this house before it's fit to live in! I think I'd have the place repainted and change out the floor-coverings and any wallpaper as well just to make sure the `bad mojo' doesn't stick around for the next tenants." "Next tenants?" the red-haired satyr asked. "Since my dad and Ward Kingsbury were `matched' by Aphrodite, they're going to be together," Brad said, "whether they want it or not!" Jean-Jacques pushed open the door at the top of the basement stairs, and the group heard a full-on battle taking place in the front hall. Dennis, still carrying the sleeping boy, sprinted that direction with Brad close on his heels to find Corey and Brandon going head-to-head with the increasingly desperate changeling, while Sheila Kingsbury shrieked for the thing to "fight, fight for your life!" Ward watched in open-mouthed horror. Andrea clung tightly to her mastiff Belle, who tried to shield her and a mastiff pup from the scene. Brad sighed; Ward Kingsbury had always struck him as something of an ineffectual wimp, but this was carrying things to new heights--or was it depths? Prometheus's knowledge failed to give him any idea why the man wasn't trying to step in--maybe more of Loki's magic? The young man fought hard to control his gorge, knowing what Ward had done to/with his "son" in the name of being close to the one he really loved; Aphrodite was going to have her work cut out for her untangling this fucked up mess, but the last thing Kyle needed was memories of incestuous sex with his father! "ENOUGH!" Dennis bellowed. "It's over, Sheila!" "Changeling!" Brad called aloud. "Behold your true self and return to that from whence you came!" The creature gave forth with one inhuman, grief-stricken howl before slowly melting into a pile of sticks, dried leaves, rags and other assorted wet, foul-smelling trash. "Bastard!" Sheila shrieked, "why did you take my baby from me?" She dove on Brad like a harpy, but Jean-Jacques prevented her from reaching the stunned young blond man. "He's not your baby," Brad said coldly, even as Kyle started to wake up in Dennis's arms. "YOUR son is over there--and you'll probably never see him again! There is a price to be paid for defying a God!" Sobbing, the woman began pawing through the noxious trash, vainly trying to find something, anything of her son. Brad turned his attention to Ward Kingsbury. "You need to take the kids to my dad's house," he told the man. "It isn't safe for any of you to stay here right now; once Hecate has cleaned up the hostile magic here, you can arrange to have whatever you need or want moved..." "I--I don't understand..." Ward said tremulously. "What was that thing?" "I'll explain it to you later!" Brad promised. "For once in your wretched life could you just do what I ask? You've got problems enough, which may or may not be fixable; don't add to it! You and the kids need to leave this house--don't wait, don't argue! Just go!" "You're very good at this, young man," Cate Harwich, the mortal name of Hecate, Goddess of Magic, told Brad. "Have you considered studying the Arcane Arts? You have quite a natural aptitude; I think you could go far if you applied yourself." "Thank you, my Lady," Brad replied, "I'm good at following instructions but I don't think I have the temperament to be a mage. I'm glad I could access Prometheus's knowledge to set Kyle free, but I'd rather not get in the spell-casting business--might be too tempting to turn to the dark side..." "At least you know that," the woman said. She was tall and spare, with sharp gray eyes and long, iron-gray hair with a single stripe of white down one side; she was altogether a formidable presence. "I'll take this stuff to my cave and see what I can learn. This spell could actually turn out to be useful; we should also develop an effective counter." "You live in a cave?" This information surprised Brad. "Yes, dear," Cate replied. "Caveholm has thirty rooms--including a swimming grotto and fully-equipped gymnasium; I have all the modern conveniences and hot-and-cold-running bats!" "Not to mention passages to other Realms!" the young man added. "Forgive my outburst, my Lady; I hadn't accessed Prometheus's knowledge before I spoke." "Not a problem," the woman replied. "Some people find the idea of me living underground to be completely `in character' for Hecate. I quite like living in such an unconventional space; I don't have to worry about heat or air conditioning since my domicile remains at a constant sixty-eight degrees, and I'm protected from potential thieves since my entrances are easily warded against hostile intent." "All you have to worry about is something wandering in from another universe which might not be nice!" Brad noted. "Another reason I chose Caveholm," Cate told him. "Unwary tourists won't feel the need to go exploring and get themselves lost in the multiverse! I can deal with anything that's likely to come out as well." "Good point that..." "You should come and visit sometime," the woman offered. "I've collected quite a few treatises on Magic; I'm sure you'd find my Library interesting--even from a non-magical perspective." "You're too kind, my Lady Hecate." "Thank you for your help, Bradley," the goddess replied, "and call me Cate. I think I can wrap up here; I'll block further entry until I can finish cleaning the place up. You can head over and visit your father. I imagine he'll be a bit overwhelmed with a house full of unexpected guests..." Robb, Ward, and Ward's two kids were all out on the expansive front porch of the stone and log cabin. All of them desperately tried to pretend they were just an ordinary family as they watched a moving van being unloaded a few houses down. The Kingsburys had actually followed Brad's instruction, only remaining in the house long enough to grab something for Kyle to put on--at the boy's insistence. "The Mercedes in the driveway has a `Fletcher Jones' license plate-surround," Ward commented. "Looks like we got another SoCal transplant." "It already has a `Washington' plate," Robb put in. "That car looks familiar though..." "How many silver `C' Class Mercedes do you think they make in any given year?" Ward asked. "It belongs to Chet Delavigne," Brad told the men bleakly. The young man felt ill, realizing Zeus had brought this menace to the island just to torment him. The King of the Gods had gone so far as to Bond the man so he could rub salt in Brad's wound; he hadn't bothered to suppress Delavigne's desire for young boys. This surely wasn't going to end well for Chet; Brad just hoped it wouldn't end with another child's life being destroyed. "Wasn't that your best friend from Irvine?" Ward asked brightly, completely missing the look on Brad's face. "How wonderful for the both of you!" Andrea missed Brad's emotional subtext, but Kyle didn't. "Uh--Dad..." he said. "I don't think Brad is all that happy knowing that dude is moving in down the street, and I doubt Uncle Robb is either..." "Ward..." Brad's father said softly. "Chet Delavigne sexually assaulted my son from the age of seven to twelve! Neither of us have any right to judge, considering..." His gaze moved briefly to Kyle before turning back to the other adult. "Still, knowing how badly that man damaged my son, I don't want him around!" "OK, I get it," the other man agreed. "Sorry... Do we need to watch him around Kyle and Andrea?" "He doesn't go for little girls," Brad told the man. "Kyle is out of his usual age-range---Chester the Molester prefers them young and hairless. That being said, we can't count on him not making a play for Kyle." "That is so not gonna happen!" the kid exclaimed. "I don't do `old farts'!" Kyle, for all that he'd lost over a year of his life to a Changeling seemed to be doing very well readjusting to being back in the driver's seat of his own life. Robb saw someone walking their way. "Oh shit," he said. "It's Chet! Kyle, why don't you and Andrea show Brad the rooms you've chosen? You can tell him what you plan to do with the spaces." The three young people headed inside but not before Chet made it to the front porch. "Bradley!" he called, oozing bonhomie. "Don't run off! It's been a while! Stick around--we'll get reacquainted!" "Go on inside with your--brother and sister Brad," Robb told his son. "I'll deal with Chet..." The young man fought to keep his face carefully neutral; much as he hated the idea, at least on Olympus Island, Kyle and Andrea were his step-siblings now. "I was wondering when you two would finally come out of the closet!" Chet commented. "Congratulations on your marriage and new family Robb!" The new arrival was the picture of confused innocence. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "If I didn't know better, I'd think I may have done something to upset you..." "You did!" Robb snapped. "You raped my son!" "Is that what Brad told you?" the visitor asked, giving an Oscar-caliber performance of wounded dignity. "Why would he say something like that? I've known the poor lad was--disturbed since his dear mother's passing--but this seems beyond the pale for even him! Rob--we've been friends for years! How could you think I'd do that to your son? That's disgusting!" "It is," Robb said bluntly. "I believe my son--please leave, Chet!" "Robb--Bradley needs some serious help!" the man said, now playing the part of `concerned friend' to the hilt. "I understand the clinic here has some excellent therapists. Maybe you should make him an appointment..." "Chet--please leave!" Robb said flatly. "If you don't, I'll have to call the cops!" "So, that's how you treat an old friend?" Chester still kept up the façade of innocence. "Maybe you should set up an appointment for yourself as well!" "I can assure you--appointments will be made!" Aphrodite, looking professional with her hair in a bun and wearing a smart gray suit (an odd choice for a Sunday afternoon) stepped onto the porch. "My mortal name is DeeDee Love, but you may call me Lady Aphrodite!" "Ms. Love..." Chet gave her a measured look then mentally dismissed her; at present the Goddess of Love looked fine, but she hadn't raised her Aspect as yet. "Are you supposed to be some sort of social worker?" Ward just shook his head at the other man's stupidity. "Chet--when she says call her Aphrodite--she means it!" he said. "Since you're `Bonded' to Zeus, you have to know about the Olympians! It's not wise to annoy any of them! You need to moderate the attitude! I know you don't know me from Adam, but trust me on this one!" "I have as much right to be here as you do!" the man snapped. "No, you don't!" The Goddess didn't even blink, but Chester Delavigne suddenly vanished. "I sent him home," she told the two men. "I may not be able to keep him from coming back, but I'll certainly send him farther away if he's dumb enough to show up while I'm still here! Now, gentlemen, won't you invite a lady inside?" Robb, Ward, and their respective children all assembled in the grand living room at Aphrodite's request. "I'm going to begin by apologizing to all of you," DeeDee told them. "I promised Bradley I would help you, and help you I will! But in order to do that, we're going to have a hard conversation, I'm going to have to ask you some--difficult questions, and all of you need to answer them as truthfully as you are able." "What are you going to do?" Kyle demanded. "I'm not sure I want my mind wiped! Even with all the gross shit the Changeling did!" "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't do that!" the woman told him. "Mnemosyne is the only one with that power, and she rarely comes out of her Demesne." "Mnemosyne is more about preserving memory rather than editing it," Brad offered. "I doubt she'd do it even if there was something I could think of that she actually wanted!" "You're probably right, dear..." DeeDee agreed. Then she turned her attention to the others. "I can't make the bad stuff go away, but I can push it back--make it less important..." she told them. "Sadly, I can't affect Brad, so he's going to have to bear up under the weight of this on his own." "Why not?" Ward demanded. "Two reasons," the woman replied levelly. "The same `gift' he got from Bonding with Prometheus will allow him to instantly know what happened if he but asks. Secondly, Bradley seems immune to the God's projective abilities! My son Himeros was most angry about that! I don't suppose you'd like to enlighten us, would you, dear?" "Actually, I'd rather not!" Brad told her. "I'll tell you this much though--neither of those things you mentioned were `Bonding' Gifts! I still have all three of mine!" "Dude!" Kyle exclaimed. "You've got three `Bonding' Gifts? What are you gonna do with all that mojo?" "Save them for when I need some major help!" Brad replied bluntly. The next few hours was painful for everybody; Aphrodite slowly and carefully drew out the memories of the whole sordid affair. No details were spared, but she insisted everyone but Andrea participate. (The girl, being young, had been spared most of the trauma except for some rough teasing by her "older brother," but that was only to be expected and could be cured by a little positive attention.) Deciding which memories to suppress and what to leave was a complicated dance which Aphrodite executed with precision, but eventually the Goddess decided she'd done enough to keep the family from imploding. Brad hoped that DeeDee knew what she was doing. "I have an offer for you, my Lady," he said as he escorted the Goddess out. "In return for your silence on what you learned today, I offer you a plan for the return of two of your sons--Phobos and Deimos." "You do realize they were the driving force behind the civil war?" "I do," the young man replied, "but I know both of them have changed! Both have gone through two reincarnations; they've both grown, and frankly they could be useful to Olympus Island. And--wouldn't you like at least some of your children home?" "Those two were always Ares' favorites..." she allowed. "Oh well, I just thought I'd offer..." Brad turned away. "Wait!" Aphrodite grabbed the young man. "What's the plan?" "Swear first!" The Goddess pouted prettily. "You wound me, Bradley! So suspicious!" DeeDee gave him her best depreciating moue. "Don't you trust me?" "I trust you at least as much as you trust me, my Lady." Brad said flatly. "Fine!" she snapped. "I hereby Swear by my Godly Power that I will not use what I learned here today to harm your family in any way! Satisfied, dear?" Brad sighed. "That's the best I can hope for..." he finally said. Then, "Look, Ms. Love--I don't want to fight you, truly I don't! We make much better allies then we do enemies--but if you go after my family I will retaliate against yours! Please don't make me do something we'll both regret!" "Your father and Ward Kingsbury make a cute couple," DeeDee said. "Kyle has--potential, and Andrea is a sweet child, surprising considering the toxic cesspool she grew up in; OK, they're off limits! Now--tell me how to get my children back to the island!" "OK, here's what you have to do..." the young man replied. "First--make up with Eros and Psyche!" Aphrodite looked mulish at this suggestion. "Zeus has always liked her, and this new version could probably wrap Zeus around her little finger! Arrange a meeting with Father Zeus, let Psyche do her magic, and `bingo-bango, wango-tango', they are offered a place with the Gods!" "I suppose you don't want Hyland and Antony back?" she said. "Himeros is still engaging in behavior that damages Olympus Island," Brad replied bluntly. "There's no indication he'd work for our side if we brought him home. Anteros, on the other hand, is doing very well on his own in New York City; there's no profit for either side if he comes back to Olympus Island, so I don't see him being willing to leave. Doesn't mean he wouldn't love for his mother to pop out and see him sometime..." "So why are you suddenly team Phobos and Deimos?" she asked. "Like I said, they've been through two reincarnations since the civil war," Brad told her. "Both of them have done a lot of growing! Philip Boss, that's the name Phobos uses, runs `Dr. Fear's Carnival of Terror' and has a prosperous FX house; partnering with Dionysian Entertainments would take both companies to the next level--not to mention bringing a lot of new revenue to the OlympusCo umbrella!" "What about his brother, Deimos?" "Dr. Deidrick Moss has become a world-renowned therapist," Brad told her. "He specializes in curing phobias and panic attacks; his client list is major! He'd be a huge `get' for our clinic!" "How do we make this happen?" DeeDee asked. "With all due respect, my Lady Aphrodite," Brad said. "If you want any of your children home I shouldn't be involved!" Brad told her. "I'll speak to Dennis about partnering with Phobos, but you'll have to speak to him and Ares about both of them. You'll also have to speak to Apollo. I don't think Zeus would refuse them--especially if he can get a promise from the boys to behave!" "Do you think they will?" The young man nodded. "If they want to come home," he told her. Chet Delavigne startled as J. Peter Zeusmann literally appeared in his living room. Maybe it shouldn't have since the blond bitch had zapped him home earlier in the day, but it wasn't something he was used to. "Hello, Chet," the man said, going to his liquor cabinet and pouring himself a Bushmill's. "How did your visit with the Fox family go? Did you enjoy seeing Bradley again?" "Mr. Zeusmann!" he exclaimed. "Why did you presume to enter my home without permission?" Zeus laughed. "Your house, Chester?" he chuckled. "My aren't you droll! You are here because *I* allowed you to come! *I* provided this home to you, and *I* pay you a most-generous salary to do a simple job! You would do well to remember that!" "Sorry--Sir..." Delavigne wasn't sure how to take this pompous windbag. "I barely got a glimpse of Brad before his father rushed him into the house! Can you believe that little shit had the temerity to tell his clueless dad I sexually assaulted him? That little bastard ASKED for everything I did to him, and I'm sure he enjoyed it!" "Revisionist history is such a sad thing!" the King of the Gods agreed. Zeus put a Compulsion behind his next words; "I want you to pursue Brad Fox at every opportunity! Rape his throat, destroy his ass--whatever your depraved little heart desires! You have my leave..." "Thank you, Sir!" Delavigne said. "You might want to have a word with that blond social worker of yours though; she sent me away before I could get close to Brad." "Social worker?" Zeus said. "Why would they visit the Fox house--and on a Sunday? Did you get a name?" "She was some big-breasted blonde bimbo," Delavigne complained. "Said her name was BeeBee Love or something stupid like that! The cunt zapped me over here! You need to have words with your staff, Mr. Zeusmann!" "That, `cunt', as you put it, is my daughter!" Zeus snapped. "She is a Goddess! You will not refer to her again in anything but respectful tones! Is that clear, Chester?" "Yes, Sir," the man replied, still feeling a bit belligerent. "Since you want me to pursue Bradley, you'll have to keep her and those like her away, or I won't be able to accomplish your goals--Sir." "I'll have to see what Aphrodite was doing over there," Zeus agreed. "I know she `matched' Robb Fox with Ward Kingsbury long ago, and she ordered them back together... I'm sure it's just one more nasty bit of business that boy has gotten up to! But I expect you to show all the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus proper respect! You are only a mortal after all! I will not tolerate such ill-bred comments! Are we clear, Chester?" "Yes--Sir..." Brad came through the big front doors to find Dennis and all the satyrs waiting for him. "How is your family, boyo?" Dennis asked. "We've been worried all afternoon!" Corey told him, and his expression dared anyone to contradict him. "They'll be OK," the blond gymnast replied. "I hope. Aphrodite did her thing, and she assures me the worst of what happened to all of them will fade! I hope it takes..." "Lad, Aphrodite has been doin' this sort o' thing fer thousands o' years!" Dennis assured him. "Trust me, there is no one, human or Deity, who is more skilled at mendin' broken hearts! They'll be fine, and DeeDee will make sure the rest o' the island doesn't spoil her work! Of course, she may decide tae make ye pay later..." "Actually, I think we're good on that front," Brad told him. "What did ye do, lad?" "I--made a deal with her..." the young man admitted. "I gave her a means to get some of her children back to Olympus Island in return for her promising not to use what she found out against my family." "Look at you being the big-shot negotiator!" Campbell commented. "Now--about what you promised this morning?" "What do you want?" the young man asked. "Let's see..." Campbell stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I want you to suck my cock for starters!" he said. "Then I think I'll fuck you for a while--after that maybe I'll watch `Big D' fuck you while I plunder your throat!" "Sorry, but no to that last thing," Brad said. "Both of you are too much to take; I'm just not ready for that yet; I'm not a satyr, you know..." "Not yet anyway!" the redhead leered. "I don't think Lady Athena would want one o' her Bondsman tae be `wasted' in that manner!" the new Dionysus said. "An' before ye all get yer knickers in a twist, *I* don't think bein' a satyr is wasteful; I just think Bradley has a different path tae follow!" "Hey, there are worse things in the world than being a satyr!" Corey opined. "Much worse!" Jean-Jacques agreed, "but our Bradley is too tightly-wound ta be a proper satyr! One day he'll be runnin' one of the divisions of OlympusCo an' commin' ta us t' relieve his tension!" "Guys--I really appreciate all of you," Brad said. "I appreciate your friendship, the way you're willing to help me along when I need something and how you are patient with me when I get all uptight!" "Hey, we like you, Brad!" Brandon said. "Life is never dull with you around!" "So, lad, upstairs?" Dennis suggested. Once the three men were in Dennis's big bedroom, the new Dionysus took both men into a strong, warm hug. First he kissed Campbell, long, slow and deeply probing then followed it up with a similar kiss for Brad. The young man moved in closer to press himself against the God's massive frame, and Dennis's tongue probed deep into his mouth. "Now, boys, ye can undress me!" he told them. "Hey, I thought this was supposed to be about me!" Campbell grumped. "Brad interrupted MY fuck after all!" "Boyo, don't be a cunt!" Dennis said. "You would do well tae remember whose house yer in and whose Bond ye wear!" "Apologies, my Lord," the satyr said. "It's just..." "Just what?" the God of Wine asked. "Spit it out, boy!" "Fine!" Campbell exclaimed. "I think you're letting Brad take liberties none of us can." Dennis sighed. "So--ye'd ha' let young Kyle Kingsbury sleep fer eternity then?" he asked. "Frankly lad, I thought better of ye!" "What? No!" Campbell began to realize he was on a slippery slope from which there was no recovery. "It's just--why does he get to do things none of the rest of us do?" "Because," Brad said, "my role here is different than yours! One day, I'll be gone, but you and the other guys will still be here! The satyrs are closer to Lord Dionysus than I'll ever be! For the time being I'm useful to Dennis--but once he's comfortable in his role as Dionysus, I'll be gone for good--but until then I have to stick around--and I'll be damned if I apologize to you or anybody for saving Kyle's life!" "Yeah, but..." The blond gymnast growled. "But nothing!" he snapped. "Look, Campbell, I'm sorry I interrupted your playtime this morning!" he said. "You enjoy Dionysus all to yourself--I won't bother you unless nukes start flying!" With that he left the two men alone. END CHAPTER TEN AUTHOR'S NOTE Thanks to all of you for the wonderful notes of encouragement; I really was planning to end this Chapter differently but it seems one of my Characters has different ideas! Anyway--I want you all to know how much I appreciate you reaching out to me: I'm trying to take in anything you have to offer in hopes of making myself a better writer. Questions, comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are always welcome; drop me a note to HonableRonable@gmail.com or RonVenable@hotmail.com; I'm always happy to hear from you--even if you have something negative to say. And, always, a super-big THANK YOU to my crack Editorial Staff, "Marko the Magnificent", "Midwestern Mark" and Jer-bear--without whom this work wouldn't be nearly as good. Stay safe all.