Read Cyra's Cyclopes Online

Authors: Tilly Greene

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #sex, #erotic romance, #mythology, #greek mythology, #anal sex, #oral sex, #nymph, #cyclops, #mount olympus, #dionysus, #cyclopes, #ménage, #f3m, #ménage a quatre

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BOOK: Cyra's Cyclopes
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“Cyra told us she’s going to a
special celebration tonight for Dionysus,” his brother told their
boss with a rumbling tenor and explained why he hadn’t wanted to be
their voice.

“So you said, but that doesn’t sound
bad. She’s a maenad isn’t she? They go to raves and release all
sense of reality on a regular basis. Is it because she’ll most
likely join the others and let go her common sense without you guys
there to protect her? Maybe even take another into her
body?”

“Actually, she isn’t one of those
crazy women. Cyra’s often seen as one because she lived with them,
but really, she was simply a dedicated devotee. Besides, we don’t
begrudge her need to express herself spiritually. Our problem is
that we’re going to lose her for good because Dionysus will be
there and she’ll, once again, be drawn to him and his
beauty.”

“Oh, yes, that does put a different
twist on the night.” It sounded like their boss was starting to
understand why they weren’t in the best frame of mind to
work.

“There’s no way we can win when you
put us, one eyed, rough, and hard working Cyclopes next to the
pretty, delicate, always ready for a party god of wine and
theater.”

“Maybe not, but she loves you
three.”

Steropes looked at his brothers and
saw the same lack of confidence in what Heph had claimed as he
felt.

“Right? You have told her you love
her and she admitted to loving you.”

“Not exactly.”

“What exactly have you told her?”
After a quick look at his boss, the fierce frown he wore helped
Steropes accept his boss wasn’t happy with them.

They’d obviously done something
wrong, but it couldn’t be helped. They’d never had a relationship
before much less been in love and didn’t know the various things
they were supposed to do so their lover was content with them. He’d
been happy enough with the way things were going, except doubts
sunk in. He was curious to know what they should’ve done and said
so they could fix it.

“She’s beautiful. Her cooking is
fine. That her body makes us hot, stuff like that.” Brontes looked
at him and he offered a nod in support. There were other things
they’d said to Cyra, but he gave Hephaestus the main
ones.

“Shit, boys, no wonder she’s heading
out to the party. A woman needs to hear more than she’s fuckable
and keeps the home tidy and your bellies full. She wants to know
you love her so much, you’ll still want her when she’s old. They
want to know more than how horny they make you, they need to know
what’s in your heart.”

“Remember the collar we made for her
on our first night together? We poured everything we felt and our
hopes for the future into that piece. At first, she acted as if it
was a great treasure, but she hasn’t worn it for the past
month.”

“She’s a smart lady. That piece had
been constructed in a haze of immortally enhanced lust and held
none of you guys personally or what you hold in your hearts. You
didn’t know her well enough to have included any of that. Besides,
it looked rough. Remember, women like their adornments to mean
something, and to reflect the emotions behind giving it. They want
to be proud to show everyone what their lover gave
them.”

“True, but even if we make a new
collar, she’s still going to meet Dionysus tonight.”

“A night of mysterious rituals does
not make a firm commitment, especially not with that man. Don’t
forget, men are no longer banned from attending, which means anyone
of them, satyr, centaur, whatever possesses a cock could take
advantage of her. My suggestion is that you make a collar and
present it to her with all the words from your hearts that she
needs to hear. She’s spent the past few months with you three and
that must mean something. If you want forever with her, then tell
her that.”

Even though Hephaestus wasn’t
physically perfect, he still possessed the confidence of getting
and holding the woman he loved. Steropes wished he and his brothers
had the poise and assurance to do that. They wanted Cyra because
she made their lives brighter than anything ever had before. She
didn’t make him feel ugly or odd, but wanted and desirable. He
wasn’t ready to give up on having her in their lives.

“What about Zeus’s thunderbolts?”
Good thing Brontes was thinking realistically, because he
definitely wasn’t. Not with his cock twitching for attention
beneath his leather apron. His hands were covered in his lap,
hiding the fact they still flickered, but he didn’t take his
hard-on in hand. He’d leave it for their lover.

He blinked his eye and listened for
the answer. It was curious that they were looking for time off.
They’d never done that before. Neither he nor his brothers would
ever do anything that would compromise their jobs, but the fact
they were considering focusing on something else proved how
important Cyra was to them.

“We have plenty of time to finish
the order before they’re needed. Do you guys want me to help you
with the design? I’ve done a few pieces of jewelry for Aphrodite
and she’s always liked them.”

“No,” Agres surprised them all by
quickly answering that question. “We should do it ourselves, that
way it’s only us and what we feel for her in the piece.”

“Good point. If you guys have any
questions about constructing such a small delicate adornment, just
ask, otherwise you’re welcome to my personal stash of gold and
stones.” Heph walked over to a cupboard and opened the doors.
“Everything you’ll need to make something for a woman is in here.
Have at it.”

They walked to the cabinet and
looked over their boss’s shoulder at the contents of the boxes as
he uncovered them. Steropes eye widened as he took in the vast
assortment of colored stones and then his gaze reached the shelf
that held containers filled with strips, strings, and chunks of
gold. It was all so much to take in, but then he blinked, and
started to get ideas of what they could make for their
woman.

As if it was slow motion, he watched
Brontes pick up an empty box and toss in a handful of green stones,
and Agres added some smaller white and yellow ones. They’d picked
up what he’d been looking at except for the gold chunks and so he
added them with a few of the wires.

Their woman celebrated nature and
what they held represented all four of them. All they had to do was
make it look beautiful and elegant like her.

Chapter Two

“It’s quiet today and none of the
temple leaders are here, which is unusual. Everyone must be resting
before celebrating Spring’s arrival tonight. I don’t feel right
just standing around so, if it’s all right with you ladies, I think
I’ll go outside and follow the path back to the party site and
gather fallen branches into a pile. We can use them as a base for
the bonfire.” Cyra made the suggestion to the other women who were
working with her at Dionysus’s temple.

Normally, the place was busy with
people stopping by to leave an offering for the god of wine and
theater, and if they could, do some chores as well. Apparently,
everything changed once people heard Dionysus would be present for
the festival.

When she’d first started following
the patron deity of agriculture, she’d done so with total
commitment for her family’s survival. Back then, Dionysus meant
everything to her. The day she’d chosen to step deeper into
learning and following his mysterious rites, was when she’d given
her life over to him.

Some called her a maenad because of
her devotion and she’d never bothered to correct them, although
technically she hadn’t been one. The life she’d set up for herself
as a loyal worshipper had been perfect for her and then she did a
favor for Hephaestus, and everything had changed.

Without realizing it had happened,
the god she’d given her support to had been pushed to the side of
her heart, and she felt bad. Dionysus saved her family, kept them
from starving and while she still felt thanks, she no longer felt
comfortable going to the lengths she used to go to prove her
dedication to him. It was because of Brontes, Agres, and Steropes,
the men who held her heart, body, and soul.

She was sure they were at the root
of the change and she needed to figure out what she should do next.
They’d never mentioned love or a future together, although she
assumed that hadn’t happened because, like her, their glorious sex
life had held their attention. Some time alone to think about the
future would do her a world of good, as would the physical
labor.

“You’re right. Even though none of
us have ever organized any of the annual events, we have attended.
We can manage to do some things until help arrives. I do know we’re
always short of candles and will work on that.” One of the other
women offered, while fussing with her peplos.

“And I’ll see how we’re looking for
jars to drink from and carry the wine around to serve. Most people
bring their own kylix, but it wouldn’t be right not to have some
here.” Another piped up while looking toward the back of the temple
where the temples storeroom, the opisthdomos, was
located.

“I’m going to check out the snakes.
I seem to think we didn’t have many left from the last festival. If
that’s true, then I’ll go out on the hillside and down to the
valley to collect some more.” Filla was a nymph and her friend made
the offer.

Knowing her as well as she did, Cyra
wasn’t surprised about her volunteering to gather more snakes. It
was a task she always offered to do because it meant she had a
reason to walk the hills and valleys. Maybe later, when they were
both done with their chosen task, they could catch up with each
other’s lives. They hadn’t seen each other in more than a few
months and lots had happened.

“Everyone bring their fawn skins and
thyrsus? I already set up a work table out front by the ivy to work
on wreaths and repair any thyrsus’ that need mending.” The lady who
offered to handle the task was older than the rest of them and an
actual maenad. Cyra found her a kind of scary and it was because
she knew exactly how far the woman went during the celebrations. At
the end of the night, the blood around her mouth and on her hands
would not be hers.

“Good, it sounds like we all have
something to focus on until lunch. We’ll meet up back here then and
see where we stand.” She was pleased the others had voiced jobs
they could do. Their being busy meant she was guaranteed some time
to herself to think.

She walked through the cella, past
the large statue of Dionysus placed there for worshipping, and
finally out the main doors.

There were quite a few offerings the
wind had shifted away from the columns and she walked around,
straightening them, so visitors had a clear path into the temple.
Their naos was older and not in the best condition, but it was well
loved. Most people in the area relied on the land surrounding their
homes to yield a good crop during harvest time, like the one they’d
just experienced. Events like the one they prepared for were there
to ensure the god of wine knew he was appreciated for his
help.

Before she’d finished clearing the
path of offerings, Teha, the maenad, joined her on the porch. Cyra
could see the table she’d mentioned set up beneath a tree off to
the side and covered with all the things she’d need. Discomfort
with a person didn’t mean she would be rude and pretend she wasn’t
there, and so she turned and smiled at her fellow
devotee.

“Not too long ago a couple of men
fixed the outdoor stage and then placed the remaining wood planks
for the bonfire in the rear section. I’ll clear the path there and
the space immediately around it so there’s no chance of the flames
burning beyond our boundaries and endangering the
worshippers.”

“Things aren’t right. It shouldn’t
be so calm on a festival day. Something bad is going to happen, I
can feel it in my bones.”

“Well then, it’s for us to stay
calm, and make sure we set everything up right so nothing
unexpected happens.” She’d found a calm existence with her men and
just a hint of the excessive ecstasy that circled around Dionysus
and his followers no longer felt comfortable. It seemed like a cape
was smothering her and she’d die if she didn’t step
back.

“There’s something different about
you, Cyra. I’m not sure what it is, but you aren’t the same woman.
You haven’t been here lately and no one knows where you’re staying.
You’re up to no good, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Come on, Teha, let’s focus on our
duties and ensure our beloved lord wants for nothing tonight.” She
hoped her words and calm demeanor were enough to discourage the
woman so they could get back to the tasks they’d volunteered to
do.

As if the god was watching over her,
Filla joined them, and whether it was intentional or not, rescued
her from the maenad’s focused interest.

“Let’s get to work, ladies. Our list
is long and won’t grow any shorter by standing around chatting.
Cyra, I’ll help you clear the path as far as the one I need to take
over the hill and down to the valley.” Thankfully, her friend knew
her well enough to see she wasn’t in a mood for the erratic
behavior of the older woman.

“And where have you been, young
nymph? No one’s seen you since the last event and that isn’t good,
I can feel—”

BOOK: Cyra's Cyclopes
3.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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