Prometheus's Payback

Prometheus's Payback

Here I sit, forming men in my image
A race, to be like me
To suffer, to weep, to enjoy and delight themselves
And to mock you
As I do!
Prometheus, J. W. von Goethe (1774)

But no longer did they mock Zeus.

Instead, they crept into his temples with fear on their faces. They fell to their knees and piously proclaimed their wretchedness before the statue of the Thunder God.

And that hurt the Titan more than any number of pecks could. The serrated burning of talons and beaks tearing through the thick sheet of muscle was nowhere near as painful as the images from those temples.

He imagined one of them, head bowed and shoulders sunk, burning their creations on a pyre to please the Olympian. This was not how it was meant to be, he thought as he gritted his teeth at a talon's invasive slash.

He remembered how he had made them; head held high, standing tall and proud, looking exactly like himself.

No wonder Zeus relishes in their debasement, he thought as a single tear slid down from the corner of his eye and through the steel-gray hair of his beard.

He lay staring upwards at the sky. His eyes were the same green of the forests he taught his children to tame. His bulging, thick arms and legs were held by chains that were only just strong enough; the Gods had no stronger metal. It did not matter anymore; he rarely struggled as days bled into nights and he simply bled.

The eagles left his bloodied body. He let out a choked, rasping sob. The flesh began to weave back together; sinews sewed up and blood vessels were knitted back into their network. The regeneration of the skin left no doubt about the Titan's impressive form; the steel-gray of his beard was mirrored by the dusting of hair on his iron-hard chest. His generous, thick length hung limply between his granite-hard thighs.

As he fell into slumber, he remembered those nights he spent amongst his creations. He quietly marveled at their latest inventions, drank ale with them, even spent nights in their arms. He didn't let them know who he was; he had no desire for their worship, only their fellowship. To be like me, he thought as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Countless aeons later, Prometheus marched back into the palace atop Mt. Olympus. He parted the metal doors with force that nearly tore them off their hinges. His eyes burned as he stared down the God sitting on a throne before him. Yet his mouth was twisted in a smirk. The blood of the eagle adorned his toga like a trophy; a scarlet streak that foreshadowed his plans.

"Prometheus," Zeus began in a curt tone, not even bothering to look the Titan in the eye. "Hercules just released you, I believe?"

Prometheus advanced, his footsteps thudded on the cold marble like the beating of a drum. He looked over the God; Zeus's body was leaner than his, though still impressive. The God's pale blue eyes still averted his own; the Olympian's dark brown hair was flecked with white.

And then Zeus looked at the Titan. At the sight of the blood, his square jaw dropped and eyes went wide. "What is the meaning of this?!?"

Without saying a single word, the Titan wrapped his massive grip around Zeus's neck and lifted the God up into the air. His pupils were wide, veins popped out of his neck, his other fist was clenched and his teeth ground against each other as he listened to every anguished, squelching gurgle that emerged from Zeus's body.

"I could kill you right here, Zeus," he said coldly through gritted teeth, "you loved every second of them on their knees. But it will stop now."

The Titan cast the God down onto the hard marble floor. The grin on his face only grew as he heard the crack of bone intermixed with the thud. His hands wasted no time in tearing Zeus's toga off and pinning the Olympian to the floor.

Zeus's eyes were wide, his whole body trembled as his hands flailed wildly in an attempt to grab onto something. Terrified whimpers spewed from his throat; the whine-like cries echoed off the marble.

Prometheus wished the sight to be the burned into his memory forever. His shaft swelled to its full size; the thick head of his cock leaked in anticipation. "For millennia, you denied my Sons greatness and demanded they live on their knees" he growled evenly as he spread the Thunder God's legs.

"But I intended them to rise, even above Mount Olympus."

And with that, the Titan rammed his cock into the Sky God's asshole.

An anguished cry sliced through the room; Zeus's limbs flailed in all directions, randomly clawing at the air. His breaths were torn gasps that punctuated the yells. The only pain that tore through his synapses more than the immense shaft plunging in and out of his ass was the crushed bone against the cold marble of the floor. He felt like his body was being liquefied, ground up like herbs in a mortar and pestle. His yells degenerated into wheezed gasps as tears began to fall down his red cheeks.

Prometheus didn't spend any longer than necessary. He pulled out and stood up. "Don't you ever expect my Sons to grovel to you, ever again."

The Olympian lay on the floor; his left arm twitched but his right one was as still as that of a corpse. Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind, a race of men cowed once again.. not before him but before some other.
"G... Gaia..." he sputtered as a thin trickle of blood dribbled out of his mouth and onto the gleaming white marble floor, "they'll bow to her one day..." His voice trailed off into a groan as his eyes shut.

"I would give my life before I see my Sons debase themselves again," he stated as he turned around and walked away from the Thunder God.

THE END