Author: Erin
Story Title: The Punishment
Characters: Joxer/Strife
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After finding Joxer with Cupid, Strife decides it's time the mortal learns who really owns him -- but the God of Mischief gets a lesson himself. Sequel to The Prostitute and The Proposition.
This rating is for m/m sex and mild bdsm.

I don't own 'em, I'm just having fun. Not making any money off this and I'll return 'em when I'm done.

NC-17 for language and male/male sexual situations, BD and possible slight n/c.

General Comments: Here's the last fic in the P1 trilogy. This one is beyond weird, but I can't say I didn't enjoy torturing the boys. <eg> And I'm certainly not through with them either. This was way too much fun to leave off here.

Sequel to: The Prostitute and The Proposition

You can find more stories by Erin at Erin's House-O-Fanfic

Comments on this story? Email me at Flames will be sent to slash lists where everyone will laugh at them.


The Punishment
by Erin
September 1999

Standing on the other side of Joxer's camp, Strife barely managed to hold onto his temper. He'd had a suspicion that his cousin would do something to annoy him, but this he hadn't expected.

He'd followed Cupid's trail here -- and showed up just in time to see him dress, grin at him and disappear. Strife wanted nothing more than to find Cupid and start yanking out feathers. He couldn't believe Cupid had the balls to touch his mortal!

But it wouldn't be as easy to find him this time. His cousin wasn't a total idiot; he'd cover his tracks a lot more carefully. So Strife didn't try to follow him. Making a mental note to screw with Cupid's family life sometime in the near future, he walked over to the still kneeling mortal.

Approaching from behind so Joxer couldn't see him, he stayed quiet. Studying the man on the ground before him, he noted Joxer's still open pants, his hard, quick breaths, and the way he trembled slightly, still coming down from what had obviously been a pretty intense orgasm.

The thought pushed Strife's anger up a notch, even as it hardened his cock. He wanted to see his mortal do that for him, touch himself, cum in his own hand -- oh fuck! Just thinking about it was such a turn-on. But knowing that Joxer willingly did it for the God of Love didn't do anything to calm Strife's temper.

"What'samatter? Doing one god wasn't enough for ya?" His voice calm with a strong undercurrent of anger, startled the mortal.

Joxer gasped, then tried to stand and turn to look at him at the same time. That resulted in him simply falling back on his ass. He didn't try to get up again, instead he just sat there, staring up at Strife in trepidation.

Taking in the flushed face and swollen lips, Strife had to resist the urge to destroy something. "Ya sucked him off too?!"

Wincing at the fury in Strife's tone, Joxer looked even more frightened now, then yelped when Strife reached down, grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him to his feet.

"Did he fuck you?" Strife demanded.

Joxer stared at him with wide eyes, struggling to find his voice. Growing impatient, Strife jerked him closer, until their noses almost touched. "Answer me," he ordered, although it came out as more of a growl.

Joxer shook his head almost frantically. "N--No," he whispered, voice shaking with fright. "I mean, no, h--he didn't."

"Butchya woulda done it, wouldn't ya? Just given it up to him right here."

"What was I supposed to do?" Joxer protested, finding a backbone somewhere. "He's a god!"

"But not the one you belong to. See where I'm going with this?" Strife kissed him, hard, forcing his tongue into Joxer's mouth -- and pulled back almost immediately as he recognized the taste. He'd sucked off Cupid enough times himself to know what the other god's cum tasted like. "I don't think ya get it," he snapped. "You sold yourself to me, remember?"

Joxer nodded with obvious reluctance.

"Good, we're clear on that much. Now here's how it works -- I'm gonna spell it out for ya, so listen up: I tell ya who you can fuck. I don't care if any of the other gods show up and order ya to do 'em; you don't unless I say ya can! Any of this gettin' through?" Strife knocked on the side of Joxer's head.

Wincing and trying to pull away from him, Joxer still nodded, although he really didn't look all that happy about it.

"Now, if ya go and do something stupid, like say, blowing Cupid, then I'll have to teach ya a little lesson."


Smirking in anticipation, Strife disappeared with Joxer in his grasp.

As a god he didn't think anything of traveling this way. A few moments of nothingness and then you were anywhere you wanted to be. But for mortals it was a less than pleasant experience. When they reappeared in the windowless room seconds later, Joxer had passed out.

Rolling his eyes, Strife removed their clothes with a thought, then dropped his mortal onto the large bed next to the wall. The impact, minimal as it was, jarred the man enough to start to wake him up.

Ignoring Joxer for the moment, Strife went over to a small table beside the bed and opened the chest sitting on top of it. Inside was his collection of all the little toys he'd accumulated over the years. He began to sort through them, considering his options.

"What the...?"

The whispered exclamation drew his attention but he didn't look up. "Have a nice nap?" he asked sarcastically.

"Where're my clothes?" There was a frightened edge to Joxer's tone, but he did a good job of trying to hide it.

"Ya won't need 'em," Strife answered as he pushed aside a couple floggers of different lengths. Fun, but he didn't think his mortal would hold up under that right now. They could work up to it later.

"Where am I?"

"My place." Strife glanced over at him, smirking at the confused expression on that expressive face.

"'s so...." Joxer didn't finish as he looked around, taking in the light colored walls, white marble columns, the colorful pillows scattered about.

"Bright?" Strife supplied. "Yeah, I know. I never let Aunt 'Dite decorate again."

"Oh," Joxer nodded in understanding. "It's just that, you know, I thought that since it's you, there'd be, well--"

"Chains and stuff like that?"

"Um, yeah."

"Behind you."

He watched in amusement as Joxer turned to look and saw the manacles attached to the bed posts. The color drained from his face.

"If you're good I won't hafta use those," Strife informed him.

"What're you gonna do to me?" Joxer's voice sounded more like a squeak.

"Dunno yet. Hey, you know what this is?" He pulled a medium-sized metal ring out of the chest and held it up for the other man to see.

Joxer's eyes widened slightly and he nodded, his cheeks turning slightly red.

Strife grinned. "Oh, ya used one before, huh? Well, guess we don't gotta start at the beginning then. You're gonna get to use one of my favorites." Dropping the ring back into the chest, he then pulled out one of the ones Hephaestus made to order just for him.

A double cockring made up of two metal rings, one larger than the other, connected by a thin strip of black leather. The ornamentation on that leather was what made it so special though. Strife ran a finger over the row of blunt metal studs riveted into the outside of the leather, shivering slightly, growing hard at the thought of how it would feel.

"Y--You can't use that on me!" Joxer protested, his voice definitely in the high-pitched range now.

"What? Ya think I'm gonna fuck you with this?" Strife rolled his eyes again as he closed the chest. "Don't be an idiot. You're mortal; ya couldn't handle it. Butchya are gonna wear it."

"No way!" Joxer bolted -- and never made it off the bed.

Anticipating the move, Strife caught him easily and pushed him back down on the mattress, straddling his waist. "Where d'ya think you're going? I mean, you see a door anywhere around here?" he asked in an annoyed tone, motioning around the room.

Joxer shook his head, but still looked ready to run given the chance.

"Relax," Strife ordered. "You're not getting outta this so just go with it." Watching Joxer closely to make sure he didn't try anything, he shifted his weight, sliding down until he sat on Joxer's upper thighs, still pinning him to the bed.

Joxer wasn't even close to being aroused, which let Strife work the cockring onto him with relative ease. One of the rings fit down around the base of his limp cock while the other sat just below the head. "Looks good," he commented, just before he started to do something about Joxer's lack of interest.

A few slow strokes and Joxer's cock began thickening, obviously against his will. He tried to fight it; eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched as he struggled against the arousal. Strife just smirked and dragged a nail up the underside of the shaft. Even if Joxer didn't want to respond to that his body did, and in a matter of seconds he was completely hard. He yelped as the metal rings dug in, making Strife's smirk widen.

"Here's the deal;" Strife said casually, still lightly stroking the imprisoned cock, "if you're good and don't bitch and moan, I'll make this disappear after a while." He tapped one of the metal rings for emphasis. "But if ya whine about things and give me problems, then the only way you're getting outta this is if ya cum, and that could take forever with this thing, or at least it'll sure feel like it."

Joxer whimpered but nodded his understanding.

Satisfied that he wouldn't have to put up with a bunch of griping, Strife slid down further. He nudged Joxer's legs apart and stretched out on his stomach between them, letting the silk sheets tease his erection. As he focused on the cock before him, he hardened even more remembering how good Joxer tasted the night before; sweet with just a slight hint of bitterness.

Closing his mouth over the head, Strife let his tongue run over the hot flesh. Joxer's own taste mixed with metal and leather made him moan softly. He moved his mouth down further. the feel of the metal studs sliding past his lips sending a shiver through him.

Soon he had a steady rhythm going. Sucking lightly as he moved up and down the swollen shaft, he flicked his tongue along the underside, enjoying the saltiness of the skin in contrast to the sharp taste of the metal rings around it.

He continued until he felt Joxer tensing under him, heard a muffled moan combined with a sob. Reluctantly letting the cock slip from his mouth, he looked up.

"What's your problem?" he asked casually.

"It hurts!" Joxer replied through clenched teeth.

"This?" Strife ran a finger along the top ring then down the strip of leather, the metal studs damp from his mouth. "Please," he snorted. "This doesn't hurt. Lemme show you real pain." Ignoring the almost frantic protests, he licked two fingers, wetting them thoroughly before pushing them inside the tight opening below Joxer's balls. Quickly finding the right spot, Strife smiled slightly and rubbed against it.

Apparently remembering Strife's warning, Joxer clamped a hand over his mouth in time to stop the scream as more blood filled his cock, stretching it against the constriction of the rings.

"Now that's pain," Strife said. It was tempting to fuck him like that, but Joxer would probably pass out, so he pulled his fingers back. "But I bet I know whatchya really hate about it. It feels good too, doesn't it?"

Joxer glared at him. Breathing hard, sweat breaking out on his smooth skin, cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger, pain and arousal, he looked good enough to eat -- or to fuck senseless. Strife licked his lips hungrily.

"Yeah, maybe it does hurt," he breathed, "but ya like it 'cause of the pleasure under the pain and that's a real kick. And when I'm done with you, ya won't be able to tell the two apart," he promised, then swallowed Joxer's cock again. Taking it all without pause he sucked hard, sliding his mouth quickly along the thick shaft.

When he knew Joxer couldn't take any more, the body beneath him taut and shaking, Strife released him and moved up, straddling his waist again. "Stay real still," he ordered. A thought produced oil in the right places -- no way was he taking that with just spit as lube -- and then he reached back to position the cock at his entrance.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed as much as possible, then sat back slowly, letting the head slide into him. Joxer gasped and tensed even more, hands coming up to grip Strife's thighs hard. Waiting until Joxer settled down again, Strife began working the rest of the cock up inside him.

He took it slow, not just to torture Joxer, although it was fun to watch him biting down on his lip to keep from screaming, but because of that row of blunted metal studs on the leather joining the cockrings. Strife was used to pain but even he had his limits. He could take this just so long as he did it slowly.

Long moments later he finally had Joxer's cock buried completely inside him and Joxer looked like he was close to losing it; eyes tightly shut, sweat dripped from his face as he breathed in short little gasps. Strife hoped he held out just a bit longer.

Shifting his weight slightly, bracing his hands on Joxer's stomach, he rose up just a little, enough to--

"Oh, fuck!" He gasped in intense pain/pleasure as the metal studs rubbed over that spot inside him. Oh yeah! Totally perfect.

Eyes closing, he slid back down, groaning at the incredible sensation. He repeated the movements, even more slowly than before, drawing out the feeling, the painful, yet wonderful friction almost making him scream from the intensity of it.

Beneath him Joxer was breathing in sharp little gasps, trembling almost violently, fingers digging into his hips. An occasional pained sob escaped him which Strife ignored completely, all his attention on the incredible mix of pain and pleasure shooting through him as he slowly rode Joxer's cock, forcing those metal studs to rub against him inside.

A few more moments and Strife was trembling as well, cock aching as he reached the edge of his endurance. Once more, rising up and pushing down just a bit harder, and this time he couldn't stop the cry that worked past his clenched teeth. He came hard. So fucking hard he nearly passed out.

When the world finally stopped spinning, Strife opened his eyes, realizing that somehow he'd managed to stay sitting up, and amazingly, Joxer was still conscious beneath him. His mortal looked like he was half out of his mind from it all and he'd dug his nails straight into Strife's thighs, drawing blood, but his eyes were open and focused him.

Grinning at the sight of it, Strife slowly moved up off his cock. He gasped slightly as those metal studs rubbed against him one last time, the sensation far too intense after that incredible orgasm. But finally he was able to peel Joxer's hands off his thighs and move to the side where he sat -- well, reclined actually. Sitting wasn't much of an option at the moment.

Propped up on an elbow, he looked Joxer over, noting the state he was in, knowing Joxer had reached his limits here. But Strife didn't do anything about it just yet.

Instead he reached out and placed a couple fingers on Joxer's stomach, trailing them in the hot semen pooled there. Thinking how delicious Joxer looked covered in his cum, Strife slid his fingers up and smeared it along the mortal's chest, marking him with his scent and taste.

"You've been pretty good," he said casually as he painted Joxer's nipples. "I mean, ya did like I said, and that's cool. You get how things work here and all. So I guess ya suffered enough."

With a thought the cockring disappeared, freeing Joxer's nearly purple cock. At the same time he leaned forward and closed his mouth over a nipple, sucking, licking away the cum he'd smeared there.

Joxer was too far gone to hear Strife's words, but he definitely felt everything. Hands suddenly grasped Strife's head, holding him there as Joxer arched beneath him, a harsh scream ringing out.

Some minutes later Joxer finally released him before going completely limp. Looking up at his face, Strife wasn't surprised to see that he'd passed out. Prevented from cumming for so long and then suddenly being rushed into orgasm like that had been too much on him.

Too bad. Strife had planned on rewarding him for his good behavior with something nice and slow, more Joxer's speed, but if he wanted to sleep instead, that was fine too.

Using Joxer's shoulder as a pillow, Strife wrapped an arm around his chest with a contented sigh. Yeah, this would be good. If he could get his mortal to behave from now on then they'd have some good times. Of course even if Joxer misbehaved it'd still be good. Strife grinned at the thought. Definitely good.


Coming awake slowly, the God of Mischief sighed and rolled over, feeling pretty damn fine -- or at least he tried to roll over. For some reason he couldn't seem to move his arms much.

Opening his eyes, at first Strife didn't see anything wrong. He lay in his bed, nice and comfy and everything looked good -- except for the manacles around his wrists.

His arms were stretched out to the sides, the restraints holding him near the headboard. Although they let him remain lying down, they didn't allow for much of anything else. He'd purposely had them designed that way, never expecting to find himself trapped in them.

He raised his head a bit and quickly found Joxer. The mortal sat on the bed a little ways away, watching him. He'd cleaned himself up and didn't look any worse for what Strife put him through, but he didn't exactly look happy about it either. Actually, his expression was on the unreadable side.

"Guess you're kinda mad about that cockring thing, huh?" Strife guessed, trying not to betray his nervousness.

Instead of replying, Joxer reached out and slid his hand up the inside of the god's arm, stopping at the manacle. Strife shivered at the touch, although he could tell from the thoughtful look on Joxer's face that it wasn't meant to be arousing.

"These take away your powers, don't they?" Joxer's tone sounded faintly curious, but the question sent something close to fear running through Strife. When he didn't answer, Joxer looked down at him with raised eyebrows.

"Why?" Strife asked, not liking this fear thing at all, especially the way it kept growing.

"It does, doesn't it? So you can't get out of 'em." It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be. If Strife could've freed himself then he already would've done it and that was obvious to Joxer.

"Can you be hurt like this?"

Strife almost whimpered, but he managed to hold it back. He couldn't let this happen. There had to be a way out. Looking around desperately, he tried to spot anything that could help him, but there was nothing in reach. Without his powers he couldn't call for help -- of course he'd only do that as a majorly last resort, but he had a bad feeling that time was now.

"You can. Okay." Joxer nodded to himself.

Strife wondered briefly if Joxer would release him if he begged, but he quickly discarded that thought. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Then he gave himself a mental kick. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. Things weren't as bad as they seemed. He had to remember that. Yeah, his powers were gone, but he was still immortal. Joxer might hurt him but he couldn't kill a god, so whatever he did Strife could get revenge for whenever he got out of this.

Satisfied with that, knowing he didn't have anything else, Strife relaxed as best he could and tried to brace himself for whatever would happen. He still wasn't prepared when it did.

Leaning down, Joxer kissed him. None of the brutality or violence Strife expected in retaliation, just a slow, gentle kiss. He was shocked a few moments later to hear himself moan against Joxer's lips.

Joxer drew back then, smiling slightly. "'re beautiful like this, you know," he said hesitantly, glancing over Strife's body.

Not knowing what to make of that, Strife just stared up at him in open confusion. Did Joxer have some sort of plan, an angle or something? Maybe get him comfortable, then torture him? It wouldn't work.

"Look," Strife began, telling himself that his voice definitely wasn't trembling, "I don't know whatchya think you're--"

"I'm gonna tell you a story," Joxer interrupted him quietly. Not looking at the bound god, he crossed his legs and stared down at his clasped hands as he continued. "See, I go to Meg's a lot and sometimes she or the girls tell me things, you know? About their other customers. I like hearing their stories as much they like mine." He hesitated a moment before going on, seeming nervous now. "There's one I remembered while I watched you sleep, and I want you to hear it."

Strife remained silent, unable to think up anything to say or do that would help him. He didn't have a choice but to lie there and listen.

"There was this warlord who used to come around all the time back when Meg first opened the Tavern. He was really big and mean and all the women were frightened of him because of that and what he liked to do. But he paid good and they needed the money then to keep the place going, so Meg didn't turn him away.

"He, um, he liked to tie them up -- bondage, Meg called it. But he wasn't real gentle with them and they didn't like it. Actually, they, uh, sorta got a little angry about it after a while. And, I think it was Anysia's idea at first because she knew about that bondage stuff, but all the women went along with it. They...," Joxer hesitated again and looked up at the wall behind the bed. "They turned the tables on him. Got him drunk and when he passed out, they tied him up like he always did them."

"Now, yeah, they knew it was real risky. I mean, if they were wrong then this guy would probably kill them." He smiled a bit. "But they weren't. When he woke up he was pretty mad, but once the women went to work on him he got into it. When they let him go he didn't do anything to them. Actually he came back a lot after that.

"See, the thing is, it turned out all he really wanted in the first place was for someone else to take control. But he couldn't ask for it. He was a big, powerful warlord and it would've made him look weak, so he had to be forced into it. But after he could admit it he was okay, became a pretty nice guy really, until he got killed in some battle anyway. But that's the way things go." He shrugged, falling silent.

Strife didn't say anything. He just lay there, trying to convince himself he hadn't just heard what Joxer said, that it didn't mean what he thought it did. Finally he found his voice, although it came out as more of a choked whisper. "If you think that's got anything to do with me--"

"That's what we'll find out. I told you so you know what's gonna happen." Joxer smiled, the expression showing his increased nervousness.

So Joxer wasn't all that comfortable with this. That gave Strife some hope that maybe he could talk his way out. "Um, ya don't gotta do this, ya know." He tried for a friendly look. He didn't exactly do that often so he hoped it succeeded. "I mean, if ya let me go now I won't be too upset about it. I won't kill ya or anything."

Not responding to that, Joxer picked up something next to him, a long strip of black cloth. Not good.

"I, uh, didn't have time to look around much before you woke up," he said as he folded the cloth in half, making it the perfect width for a blindfold. "I found some things just laying around on the floor and I hope you don't, you know, mind if I use 'em."

Yeah, he minded! Strife didn't want anything to do with this insane idea. Didn't this guy get it? He was the god here, he did the tying up and stuff. As a mortal, Joxer was just supposed to lie there and be good and obedient! Strife opened his mouth to explain it, spell it out in words of one syllable if necessary, but then Joxer leaned over him and tied the blindfold over his eyes.

The surge of fear brought on by the sudden darkness cut off Strife's words and once again he had to convince himself he didn't have anything to worry about, not in the long run anyway. He couldn't help feeling a bit disgusted with himself, acting like some spineless mortal. He had to get things under control before he humiliated himself here.

"Remember, I'm gonna get outta these sometime," he warned, yanking at the manacles. "Better keep that in mind."

"I really don't wanna gag you."

Instantly Strife went still, worried at the implication of those words. He couldn't move much and now he couldn't see, he didn't want his voice taken away as well. Then he felt fingers stroke down his cheek, warm breath on his face.

"I'd rather listen to you when I do this, and I don't think you wanna be gagged either. Do you?"

Deciding to play it safe, Strife didn't respond verbally, instead he shook his head.

"Then I need you to do something for me, okay?"

Joxer's voice sounded gentle although some uncertainty still lingered there. Strife didn't dare try to use that this time though, instead he just nodded again.

"You've already got a good start on it. See, I don't want you to say anything. You can make all the noise you want -- I, um, I like that, you know, hearing it -- anyway, just no words. 'Cause if you do talk then I'll have to punish you, and if you're too bad, well, then I guess I'll have to use that gag. All right?"

The fingers hadn't stopped lightly stroking his cheek and Strife found it disturbingly calming, but he nodded anyway. It was becoming pretty obvious that Joxer had done this before and that worried him. Just how much had he underestimated Joxer?

"That's great," Joxer sounded a bit relieved, "because if I had to gag you, then I couldn't reward you for being good, like this."

Suddenly Strife felt lips on his, the kiss as gentle as before. But then a tongue worked its way into his mouth and he moaned at the unexpected invasion. Before he could really respond though, Joxer drew back, just enough to allow clear speech.

"Don't worry," he whispered, lips moving against Strife's, "you'll be okay."

Strife really resented the implication that he was concerned about any of this. Well, maybe he was, but that didn't mean he wanted Joxer to know about it.

Then Joxer's touch disappeared entirely, leaving Strife to wonder what would happen next and when.

After a few moments of complete silence he felt...something. Not fingers, too light for that, but something trailed over his shoulder. It moved outward, under his arm -- and he gasped. What was that? He'd never felt anything like it.

The touch continued, trailing slowly up and down his arm, and Strife couldn't help it, he giggled. The touch became just a bit slower, intensifying the sensation it created, and this time he truly laughed.! That was it! Fuck, it really tickled!

The sensation continued as did his laughter. At first he kind of liked it, but then when it didn't let up it started to hurt in a strange sort of way, like it felt good but at the same time it didn't. Whatever, he didn't care at the moment. He couldn't quit laughing and it all hurt now! He tried to pull away from the maddening sensation but the shackles stopped him. He couldn't do anything but lie there and laugh and want to scream from it all.

And then it stopped.

Strife groaned in relief but he didn't know what to make of it. Not that he wasn't grateful, but what else did Joxer have planned? He had his answer in mere seconds.

The light touch suddenly resumed, this time on the bottom of his foot. And it felt so much more intense there. With a yelp, he jerked his foot back, only to feel a hand grasp his ankle and hold it down. The touch resumed and Strife found himself laughing helplessly again even as tears started to form in his eyes, quickly absorbed by the blindfold.

He tried desperately to pull out of Joxer's grasp, but without his powers he didn't have the strength. Joxer was strong despite his wiry appearance and he easily held onto the ankle. Strife had to gasp for air as he laughed, although it was starting to sound more like screaming now.

"Stop it!" he cried out, unable to take any more -- and he could've kicked himself.

Immediately the sensation stopped, but Strife felt no relief this time. He knew he'd just screwed up.

"Why'd you have to do that?" Joxer sounded very disappointed.

Strife had to resist the urge to apologize just to try to get himself out of this. He was a god and gods didn't have to say they were sorry, especially to mortals who were stupid enough to chain them up.

"I wanted to let you have some freedom, but now I guess I can't." With a sigh, Joxer's grip on him disappeared and for a few seconds Strife didn't know what was happening.

Then he heard a familiar sound, the rattle of a chain. Oh shit. Suddenly he knew what Joxer meant to do. Strife had shackles attached to the bedposts at the end of the bed as well as the head of it. They usually hung down out of sight next to the bed, but apparently Joxer had found them.

Using the restraints around his wrists as leverage, Strife tried to sit up, or at least pull his feet out of reach, but a long-fingered hand grabbed his ankle again and dragged it back down. The shackle locked around his ankle quickly, holding him there. He tried kicking out with his other foot, but it too was caught and locked into place.

Now he couldn't move, not much anyway. The chains were taut and he could could do nothing but lie there, spread-eagled and helpless.

"Whoa," Joxer breathed. "You should see yourself. You're just...incredible!"

A hand slid down his leg slowly and Strife tensed, unsure of what to expect now.

"I should've done this before," Joxer continued, his voice filled with something close to awe. "I mean, if I'd known how you'd look, I would've. This is just!"

For some reason Strife found himself uncomfortably close to blushing. He wasn't used to anyone talking about him in that tone. Even Cupid never said anything like that and he didn't know how to feel about it.

Then lips brushed the inside of his thigh, making him gasp in shock. That one touch emphasized his total vulnerability, but it didn't come again. Instead, that other sensation replaced it, the one he'd started to dread.

A giggle escaped him as the light touch moved along the inside of his thigh where Joxer had kissed him. Soon it had him laughing outright again. This time the sensation moved, shifting up to his stomach, and that was even worse.

Laughing too hard to breathe properly, Strife gasped for air. Sobs worked their way into his laughter. The sensation was too much, too intense, and it drove him to tears again. He hadn't known he was this ticklish and he really wished he'd never found out. But he didn't say anything. He'd learned that lesson and this time no matter how bad it got, how much it made him scream, he never let it come out as words.

Finally it stopped. So suddenly it came as a total shock. One second he thought he'd go out of his mind from the torture, and the next it was gone.

Still gasping, Strife lay there, tense and uncertain as he waited for whatever would come next. He just knew Joxer wouldn't leave it at that. He had to be planning something worse.

"That wasn't too bad."

Strife felt warm breath on his face and tried to turn his head away, but fingers caught his chin and held him there.

"You didn't say anything that time and, um, that's pretty good. So you deserve this."

Lips on his again. Strife thought he was far too tense to respond to that, but just as before the gentleness of it got to him, made him feel even more uneasy than before and completely out of his element.

Then Joxer ended the kiss and Strife almost sighed in relief. He didn't think he could deal with too much more of that.

"I think...well, this is gonna be hard for you, what I'm going to do, I mean. I don't think you've ever done it and you really need to, to know what it's all about. Okay, I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense," Joxer laughed, a sound that betrayed his own nervousness, "but it will here soon. You'll see."

Strife didn't like the sound of that, but a moment later when hands began touching him, he suddenly knew what Joxer intended. At that moment he would've done just about anything to get out of there.

The hands slowly, gently slid down his outstretched arms, over his shoulders and down his chest. Fingers brushed over his nipples, the touch deliberate but not lingering, then it moved on.

Joxer touched him everywhere possible; hips, legs, even his cock, but the intent didn't seem to be to turn him on. The touches were more exploratory than anything else, like Joxer was simply learning every inch he could reach. It felt so incredibly intimate without being arousing and Strife couldn't help but love it.

Which was exactly why he hated it. All his life everything had always been done in a hurry and with more than a touch of violence, especially anything to do with fucking. Even when he'd let Joxer use him like a prostitute, Strife had been the one in control and he'd kept it all moving at a fast pace.

But now he had no choice, he had to lie there and take whatever Joxer decided to do to him. He didn't know how to deal with these slow and gentle caresses. With every touch Joxer knew just a little more about him and it left Strife feeling completely vulnerable, exposed.

By the time Joxer's hands finally left him, Strife was trying unsuccessfully to control his trembling. How could one mortal do this to him, just strip away all his defenses with a touch?

And then it got worse.

Lips pressed against his forehead, lingering there for a few moments before moving down to his cheek. It continued like that, soft kisses eventually covering his entire face, except for his lips. That might actually have been comforting; a good, long kiss, tongues and teeth meshing. Strife wanted that, something hard and demanding to balance out this gentleness, but he didn't get it.

The lips moved down to his neck, covering every bit of skin with slow, damp kisses. Oh fuck. The god moaned when he realized what Joxer was doing, wetting his lips every few kisses. The mental image of Joxer's tongue moving over his lips sent a sudden rush of blood down to Strife's cock.

Immediately he tried to clear his mind, really not wanting to get turned on now. He just had a suspicion that Joxer wouldn't allow him to cum anytime soon if that happened.

All the time those lips moved up his arm, he managed not to think about what exactly Joxer was doing. But then Joxer reached his hand and it all changed. Instead of simple kissing, he began taking Strife's fingers into his mouth, lightly sucking, running his tongue around them slowly one at a time before releasing it and moving onto the next one.

Gasping in shock, Strife had to bite down on his lip to keep from asking Joxer to stop or maybe even beg for him to do more. That felt so fucking hot! Having that mouth around his fingers, imitating what it could do a lot lower -- Strife groaned in a mix of pleasure and frustration as he lost the battle, his cock hardening instantly.

Joxer didn't seem to notice. Strife shivered when his thumb was finally released from that talented mouth -- only to have the same treatment given to his other hand.

Oh, man, this was torture. Strife wanted that mouth down around his cock. The thought alone made him moan and arch his hips up as best he could in his position. But again Joxer didn't pay any attention. he finally moved away from his hand and resumed the pattern of soft, wet kisses all down Strife's arm to his chest.

Those lips brushed close to his nipple, but they never quite made contact. He didn't know if that made him happy or even more frustrated. He certainly didn't need anything adding to his arousal, but the thought of Joxer sucking at his nipples -- Strife whimpered slightly as his cock jumped, a steady ache starting. Begging might not be such a bad thing.

But Joxer had already moved on, lower, to his stomach. Instead of tickling this time, the caress of those lips was so damn erotic. Strife tried to push up against the mouth on him, but Joxer moved away, lower again.

Avoiding Strife's cock, Joxer's lips brushed over his upper thigh, then continued slowly down his leg. Breathing hard now, Strife had a bad suspicion about what Joxer had in mind, and it was confirmed a few moments later when the lips reached his foot.

When his toe was taken into Joxer's mouth, Strife couldn't hold back the little yelp that escaped. But it quickly turned to a moan when the sucking started again and that wonderful tongue began licking at him, sending more blood rushing to his cock.

Strife couldn't tell if it was his own perception or if Joxer was really taking more time than he had on his fingers, but either way it felt too intense. He never even knew his feet were erogenous zones. He tried to pull away more than once but he couldn't and Joxer continued to gently suck, his tongue finding every sensitive spot, driving Strife into a steady litany of begging inside his mind--

And it stopped. Joxer released his foot with a disappointed sigh. "You were doing so well too."

What? Strife didn't get it. He hadn't said a word -- unless he had and didn't know it. That pleading he'd been doing in his head really had sounded loud now that he thought about it. Fuck! He'd screwed up again! Now what would the mortal do to him?

Suddenly a tongue flicked over his nipple, making him gasp. It continued, light little touches that barely grazed the hardening nub, and a few moments later the tongue moved over to his other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

At first it wasn't so bad. It felt good -- yeah, right; it felt great! But then Strife realized what was happening. These slow, gentle little licks were turning him on so much he could already feel his cock starting to leak. No pain, no actual torture, and he was about to cum from it? He didn't understand, but fuck, he loved it! And again, that really bothered him.

But he couldn't think about it now, not with that tongue swirling around his taut nipples, making him moan in encouragement. Biting his lower lip to stop from asking for more and faster, the sensations started to overwhelm him. Between the wet licks over his nipples and the increased aching in his cock, he knew it'd be over soon. Then his balls started to tighten and--

Fuck! Strife almost cursed out loud, but held it back in time. Fingers had suddenly tightened around the base of his cock, stopping him from cumming. When they released him moments later, he wasn't nearly as close as before. He heard himself growl in frustration.

Through it all the tongue never stopped teasing him, but then something extra was added. With a low moan, he arched up against the mouth that closed over one tormented nipple. Now instead of just the slow licking he'd gotten used to, Joxer began gently sucking as well, alternating between each nipple, forcing Strife to hold back a whimper.

This time the added stimulation of that wonderful mouth drove him right to the edge even faster. But as before just before he came fingers clamped down around the base of his cock, stopping him. He couldn't hold back the frustrated snarl that escaped him.

It only got worse though. The instant Joxer released him, teeth began grazing over his nipple, driving the torment to new levels. Now Strife did whimper. Just a few moments of that, the licking, sucking and gentle nips, made him want to scream. It felt so fucking good and he knew he wouldn't be allowed to cum from it!

He didn't know how long it went on before Joxer finally stopped. He just knew he'd been stopped from getting the release he desperately needed three, maybe four times -- he'd lost track. His whole body was trembling from frustration and need and all he cared about at that point was finding some measure of relief.

"Now, you did okay there," Joxer said quietly, "but if you talk again I'll have to gag you, okay?"

Strife nodded, in no position to do anything else. Then a tongue flicked over the head of his cock, collecting the sticky drops of precum there, and he almost sobbed.

"You taste good," Joxer commented with a small hum of pleasure, nearly making Strife cum from the words alone. "Hope you'll let me suck you sometime."

Let?! Fuck, Strife was ready to beg for it right there! But Joxer had already moved on.

Realizing that Joxer intended to pick up where he'd left off with his feet, Strife banged his head back against the mattress a couple times, trying to find some untapped reserve of patience -- and failing. Instead, he had to keep biting into his lip to stop from yelling at Joxer to get on with it or begging for more, he couldn't tell which he wanted more now.

Joxer took his time, and when he finally worked his way back up the other leg with torturously soft kisses, Strife couldn't think anymore. All he knew was sensation and the nearly overwhelming need to cum -- and the fact that he couldn't, not unless Joxer told him he could.

And suddenly it all ended. "Not bad," he heard the whispered comment just before lips covered his and he was finally, thoroughly kissed.

Strife latched onto the tongue that pushed into his mouth, desperate for some contact besides the far too light kisses Joxer had covered him with. He heard Joxer moan and his cock jumped, urging him to kiss harder, knowing that at this point he didn't need anything else to push him over.

But again he wasn't allowed release. Joxer pulled away despite Strife's attempts to hold him there with nothing more than mouth and teeth. At first Strife was ready to cry from frustration, but then he felt something he couldn't quite believe at first.

The shackles on his ankles were opened. The right one first. Hands were on him then, massaging the skin, soothing muscles he hadn't even realized he'd strained. Then his left ankle was freed and given the same treatment. A few moments later his wrists were released too, the skin gently massaged and a light kiss pressed to the insides.

Not sure what to make of it and too aroused to really care, Strife just lay there and let Joxer do whatever he wanted. It didn't matter that he'd been freed, he couldn't will himself to so much as reach down to jerk himself off. Joxer hadn't said he could.

When the blindfold was removed it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when he finally focused, it was on the mortal kneeling between his legs. Looking at him, Strife suddenly realized that Joxer was a pretty good actor. He was just as effected as Strife, breathing hard, eyes dilated with arousal, cock hard and leaking and that expression on his face, like he wanted to take Strife and fuck him until they both dropped -- Strife could only stare at him and whimper helplessly as he realized it wasn't over yet.

"Put your legs over my shoulders," Joxer ordered, lightly caressing Strife's thigh.

Strife obeyed without thought, all his attention on Joxer's face, the desire he saw there. No one had ever looked at him like this, with that much need.

Joxer pulled him closer and the thick cock pressed against his ass, the sensation making him shiver with desperation. When Joxer held out two fingers, Strife eagerly took them into his mouth, using his tongue to get them thoroughly wet, almost moaning in disappointment when they were pulled away.

Then the fingers pushed into him. Joxer wasn't being nearly as gentle as before, but there was nothing violent about it either. Strife gasped as the fingers pushed deeper, stretching him. It felt so damn good! He wanted to fuck himself on those fingers but couldn't get the leverage, and then they were gone and suddenly Joxer thrust into him.

Joxer didn't let him adjust to it, but pushed all the way in before finally stopping. It didn't really hurt, not like the pain Strife was used to anyway, but it was still a lot rougher than he'd expected after how careful Joxer had been with him. And he wasn't prepared for the sheer intensity of it, the way Joxer watched him as he started to move, pulling out slowly then shoving back in hard.

Strife moaned, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the steady rhythm Joxer set. He couldn't get any leverage to move, to push back like he wanted to, so he had to settle for lying there tightening around the thick cock pounding into him, gasping with each deep thrust. It felt so fucking incredible--

"Open your eyes."

He quickly obeyed the whispered order, almost forgetting to breathe when he saw Joxer's expression. Not just plain lust there, but something close to...tenderness as well, and it totally confused him.

Then Joxer leaned down, bracing himself on one hand he kissed him, and Strife forgot all about confusion, his concentration split between the tongue exploring his mouth and the cock shoving into him. He quickly grabbed Joxer's arms, holding him there, kissing him desperately. But Joxer pulled away after just a few moments. "I want you looking at me when you cum," he whispered.

Strife gasped, at the words and the thought itself. One hand slid from Joxer's arm down to his ass, clutching at it, pulling Joxer harder against him. The response was immediate. Something close to a growl came from Joxer and he thrust deep, hitting the spot that made Strife cry out.

And that's what did it. It hit him fast, the orgasm ripping through him so hard darkness blurred the edge of his vision. Biting down on his lip, drawing blood as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure, somehow Strife still managed to keep his eyes open.

When it finally ended, he lay there gasping, too exhausted to move. Above him, Joxer watched with an expression of pure hunger that made Strife wish he could get hard that instant, despite how tired he was. Just having someone look at him like that was so incredibly sexy. But then Joxer pushed deeper into him and Strife forgot about everything else.

All his attention focused on the wonderful feel of Joxer rocking into him, faster and harder by the moment. And the expressions on his face, need and desire and -- suddenly Joxer tensed, a shudder working its way through his body.

It was incredible, the sensation of Joxer cumming deep inside of him. But what made Strife moan in sheer pleasure was hearing his name gasped through clenched teeth.

Even when he'd finished though, Joxer didn't just collapse on top of him as most guys did. He stayed braced up on one trembling arm, looking down at Strife. "You okay?" he asked more than a bit breathlessly.

He nodded. His whole world seemed to have turned inside out, but other than that things were just fine.

Joxer leaned in and kissed him then, nothing passionate or desperate, just a slow, gentle brushing of lips over lips that felt more intimate than when they had their tongues halfway down each other's throats. When Joxer drew back Strife was disappointed, but even more so when Joxer carefully pulled out of him.

"Do you get why I did this?" Joxer asked, some of his nervousness seeming to return as reclined on his side next to him.

Strife shook his head.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." With a sigh of slight frustration, Joxer picked up something sitting on one of the pillows. A feather. Cupid's feather actually. "I found it on the floor," he explained, apparently seeing the confusion on Strife's face. "It worked great for this." He trailed the tip of the feather down the inside of Strife's arm.

"No!" Strife cried out, jerking away from the ticklish sensation and sitting up -- then winced when he realized that he'd spoken again. Only...why was he concerned about it now? He had his powers back; he could fry the impudent little mortal with a thought. But he didn't want to, and against all logic he was still worried about speaking without permission. What the fuck did Joxer do to him?!

"It's okay." Joxer set the feather aside, with a definitely nervous smile. "You, um, you can talk if you want now. I mean, I can't stop you or anything."

Strife just nodded again, waiting for an explanation.

"You didn't know you were ticklish, did you?" Joxer asked hesitantly, although it seemed to be a rhetorical question. "So why don't you like it? It feels good, doesn't it?"

"It hurt!" Strife snapped, remembering how he hadn't been able to get away from it.

"Yeah, but it felt good too."

"I don't care, I hated it!" Strife started to go on but stopped when he realized what he'd said, and what it meant.

"Exactly." Joxer's expression turned completely serious. "And I hated that thing you put on me before. It--it didn't matter that it felt good, you know? It still hurt and I didn't like it." He looked away uncomfortably, with maybe a touch of fear somewhere in that expression. "So...are you gonna kill me now?"

Strife didn't reply immediately. He had every reason to waste the mortal, but he still didn't want to do it. None of it made any sense. "Why'd you do that other stuff to me?" he asked for lack of anything better to say. "All that touching and then when ya finally fucked me...why? I don't get it." He looked down at the other man in confusion.

"That's 'cause I didn't 'fuck' you, I made love to you. There's a difference. But you didn't know that either." Joxer sat up, not meeting his eyes. "See, you can have pleasure without pain. I thought maybe you should know that. I mean, even if you, um, kill me, or just dump me somewhere and never look at me again or something, at least you'll know what it's like." He shrugged slightly.

Strife looked away, more upset than he wanted to admit. Fuck. Why did Joxer have to be right? He'd loved it. Oh, it was damn frustrating, being chained up without any way of getting himself off, but in all honesty, he really had loved it. He'd never had anything that intense before and he knew there was a good chance that he'd do it all again. That wasn't right.

"I'm a god d'ya get that?" he demanded, glaring at Joxer. "This kinda shit can't happen--I can't let it happen to me! Ya messed around without permission and ya got what you deserved!" Funny how hollow that sounded now; just hours before he'd been absolutely convinced of it.

Now Joxer looked up at him, his expression thoughtful, assessing, and it made Strife more than a little uncomfortable.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" Joxer asked quietly.

Strife wanted to lie, say that he was still thinking it over or that he would if Joxer ever talked about this or something, but he found himself shaking his head. "Not thatchya don't deserve it," he quickly added, "but no, you're getting off easy this time."

"And you still want me?"

Fuck yes! Strife managed not to say it aloud, but it probably showed in his face. Not that it mattered. He could say anything he wanted, but the fact that he hadn't killed Joxer already told the truth. "Yeah, I wantchya. I mean, you're still mine, so I guess I--"

"No, I don't belong to you." Determination showed in Joxer's dark eyes, the fear and nervousness gone.

Strife started to correct him, remind him how things worked with gods and mortals, but he didn't get the chance.

"Don't," Joxer said quietly. "No more talking right now."

Strife immediately shut up -- which made him want to hit himself. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Good." Joxer took hold of his arms and pulled him into one of those slow kisses that made Strife feel like he was melting. By the time the Joxer finally ended it, Strife was moaning, starting to get hard again.

Joxer pushed him gently back onto the bed and he went down without protest.

"Gods, you're perfect," Joxer commented with a contented sigh, looking him over. That made Strife even harder, a fact that didn't escape Joxer's notice. "Well, I sure can't do that again as fast as you, but there is something I want to do."

Moving over Strife, Joxer smiled down at him, a deceptively pleasant expression. "I'm gonna suck your cock for a while. Now, I don't want you moving or making a sound, 'cause if you do, well, then I'll have to chain you again and drag it out for an hour or two, okay?"

Strife could only nod, holding back a helpless whimper -- but he wasn't helpless! He just had to use his power and he could really punish Joxer for this. But he knew he wouldn't.

Watching as Joxer moved down to lie between his legs, Strife knew he was right. Joxer didn't belong to him; he belonged to Joxer.


© 1998/99, Erin.

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