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Entwined Fates - A Gods of Miami Short Story (PART 1 of 2)
🕑 Added 2023-06-14 13:05:52 +0000 UTCI wanted to post this story in its entirety, but I felt 4,500+ words I was happy with was a fine thing to put up for now! Really enjoying playing in this world, hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading! ~dS
Entwined Fates - A Gods of Miami Short Story (PART 1 of 2)
Alright, babe, let me tell you a little story about why you should never, ever mingle with the gods.
I'm Colleen, your once-sassy hairdresser with a penchant for purple hair, which, you'll see, only added to my troubles.
My life as a hairdresser, working my ass off in Miami, was as fabulous as my violet locks. Could my sex life have used a boost? Yeah. Could a couple extra tips have helped with that student loan debt (an extra tip from me, skip that English degree!)? Yep. But I was getting by comfortably. And I was the life of the salon - until the day the goddess of love and beauty herself, waltzed in like she owned the place.
Of course, now I see how good I had it.
It was a typical Tuesday afternoon at the salon, and I was just wrapping up snipping away at a client's hair when the front door swung open. It’s just metal and glass on a hinge, so I don’t know what godly power allowed it to do so this time with a flourish, but it did. The entire room came to a standstill as a woman of unparalleled beauty sauntered in, her presence commanding everyone’s attention. The air became charged with an electric energy that made me - and based on the popped nipples of the women around me, everyone else - all hot and bothered in that good kind of way that also leaves you a bit on edge because you’re in public and can’t do anything about it.
The source of this was - who else? - Aphrodite. She, like the rest of the Greek Gods ages ago, had retired and traded her celestial throne for the sun-soaked shores of Miami. Clad in a flowing white beach dress that was one cup-size too small for her hourglass figure, she radiated an aura of effortless glamor. Her golden hair cascaded in loose waves over her sun-kissed shoulders, and her cerulean eyes sparkled with mischief. Her enormous, perfectly round breasts wobbled and shook within the top that strained to contain them, her thick nipples threatening to spring through the material. She was the epitome of a beach bunny, and she had embraced the lifestyle with open arms.
Hell, for all I knew she’d invented the trope.
As she sashayed into the salon, she was flanked by three stunning nude nymphs, each one a vision of sensual beauty. They moved in perfect harmony with each, their caresses and gropes fluid and graceful, as if they were extensions of Aphrodite herself. But they quickly broke from her side and began intertwining themselves amidst the other hairstylists and our customers, tits and hands and even feet everywhere and on everything and everyone. If it looked delightful to touch or rub they were upon it.
"Darlings!" Aphrodite exclaimed to us hairdressers, her voice melodic and enchanting. "I've come to grace you with my divine presence. I'm in need of a touch-up, and my curiosity of how you mortals do it just got the best of me."
She twirled playfully, her dress billowing around her, her breasts heaving one way and then the other. I couldn't help but be captivated by her magnetic charm. I wanted her to like me. Aphrodite was the embodiment of vanity and bombast, but she wore it like a badge of honor. She knew she was a living legend. And I wanted that legend to like me, despite the risks, because wouldn’t that make me a part of the legend? And, yeah, I knew that being friends with Aphrodite - being the mortal who a literal goddess trusted with her hair - could be marketable.
Despite my infatuation with Aphrodite, a primal part of me urgently needed to know where the nymphs had gotten to. I tried to keep track of them as they played and teased throughout the salon. As a way to help myself log each of them my mind gave them names as my eyes followed them.
The first nymph, Amara, had luscious auburn hair cascading over her soft, honey-toned shoulders. I followed the curve of her full breasts, the elegant slope of her waist, and the gentle flare of her hips, before coming to rest on her long, shapely legs. Her body was a testament to the gods' exquisite craftsmanship, every inch of her flesh smooth and flawless. As she moved, her amber eyes glittered.
Calista, the second nymph, was an embodiment of dark, sultry beauty. Her raven-black hair framed a face of delicate, heart-shaped perfection. I couldn't help but be drawn to the swell of her breasts and the enticing curve of her hips. My gaze lingered on her tanned skin, glowing with an inner light, as I traced the lines of her toned body. Her petite form seemed to dance before me, her emerald eyes alluring and mysterious.
Finally, Thalia was a vision of radiant, golden sensuality, her sun-kissed skin shimmering even in the harsh salon light. Her golden blonde hair seemed to be spun from the sun itself, casting an ethereal glow upon her form. My eyes were drawn to her full, enticing breasts, before drifting downward to appreciate her slender waist and the gentle curve of her hips. Her long, supple legs were a testament to her grace, and her azure eyes burned with a passion.
My concentration was broken as Aphrodite turned to me, a delicate finger raised. It waggled at my head, as if her hand was flirting with me.
“You have a delightful choice in hair color. Let’s see what you can do with my lovely locks.”
I hadn’t noticed that my customer, who I had mostly finished with, had left my chair. Had she even paid? Did she know better than to stay within eyesight of Aphrodite? I don’t know, and I’ll never know. Aphrodite bounced over and sat, staring at me through the reflection of the mirror hanging over my shelf of tools and sprays.
“Impress me.”
A lot rested on getting this right. Not just the loss of a paid time slot or bad reviews of my skills, but like my very humanity itself. Settled in Miami, the gods weren’t quite as powerful anymore - no commanding the seas or weather - but they still had abilities over us mortals. Not just social influence because they’re celebrities around here. They’re celebrities who won’t think twice about leaving behind a palm tree that wasn’t there before, instead of a bad review.
I swallowed, told myself, You can do this! and after prepping the goddess’ hair I raised my shears. As I was about to snip, a nymph, Calista, grasped my elbow. I instinctively swung the blades away to avoid an unintended snap.
Aphrodite noticed, both my reflex and the source of the near-catastrophe.
“Excellent parry there, my dear,” the goddess smiled as she waved her hands to summon the nymphs to her. They stood in a line beside my chair, in the order of Amara, Calista, and Thalia. You wouldn’t think the order wouldn’t matter, but the gods could surprise you.
Aphrodite first spoke to the nymph who had bumped me.
“As punishment for trying to play with someone else’s arms, I put upon you a blessing that nothing aside from those two hands upon you now will ever again touch that pretty pussy of yours.”
I watched Calista mew and fidget. It looked like she was a bit sad that no one could ever finger or lick her very wet slit, but I got the feeling that this nymph was also getting turned on by the idea of such a limitation.
But, as I would learn, the gods are rarely done when you think they are.
“Now, all three of you are too rambunctious for your - and my - own good in here. I think this will make it easier to keep track of you.” With the smallest gesture of her two hands towards each other Aphrodite made the biggest change to her nymphs.
The trio slid inwards, Amara and Thalia’s shoulders, arms, and hips pushing tightly against Calista’s - until the center nymph didn’t have any pairs I could dare call her own anymore. Both of Calista’s arms - and the inner arms of Amara and Thalia - merged into the neighboring limbs before those four arms were swallowed up by their integrating torsos. Amara’s left breast nestled up next to Calista’s right, while Thalia’s right breast pushed tightly against Calista’s left, six tits all in a line across their wide torso. Only the varying colors of their skin indicated where one nymph’s flesh ended and the other’s began.
Their legs did not follow the same path. The two outer nymphs appeared to retain both of their legs while Calista’s lower limbs were absorbed into them. This essentially left the center nymph, the one who had put Aphrodite’s hairdo at risk, hanging helplessly, permanently suspended between the other two. Her bare, glistening slit puckered between the inner legs of her new body-hosts, pulling and stretching as the outer nymphs shifted and adjusted to their new form.
All six breasts swung and bounced as the trio learned to stand on four legs. Calista’s expression betrayed the arousal she was experiencing - and the simultaneous frustration of no longer having arms to grab her tits, or her own thighs to squeeze her glistening pussy.
I have no idea if Aphrodite had intended such a permanent existence of frustration when she performed her two magical acts, or if they were unrelated thoughts that happened to stack tragically, but I immediately realized that since Calista no longer had access to her own hands that meant she’d spend…eternity? How long do nymphs live? A long time with no one ever touching her pussy again.
Amara and Thalia immediately recognized the situation and power they had over Calista, each using their remaining arms to tease their own breasts, their own wet slits, and coming tantalizingly close to touching Calista’s - only to have an invisible force push them back from her labia at the last moment. Nymphs never seemed to talk, but Calista’s moans let everyone in the salon know that she desperately wanted more - and that she knew she couldn’t. And wouldn’t.
With a wave of her hand Aphrodite indicated that Amara and Thalia should make themselves scarce, and in a series of ill-timed steps across their dual pair of legs the trio moved towards the hair dryers, Calista’s hanging torso pulled and squished between them as they staggered along. Little drops of need splattered the floor beneath the nymph who I guessed was now stuck eternally edging from the movement of her outer partners.
Yanking my attention back to the goddess, I focused and worked with vigor, using every skill and insight I could think of to give Aphrodite the look she could enjoy between the beach and parties. And when I was done she beamed as she admired her reflection in the mirror. She asked my name and I gave it, her voice like warm honey as she repeated it with affection.
"Colleen, darling, you have truly outdone what I expected. I simply must share your talents, and you, with my fellow Olympiamians."
My heart fluttered with an explosion of emotions, so much so I missed some details of the party she invited me to as she pressed a specially minted coin into my hand. But I had heard what I needed to get me there.
Maybe it would have been for the better if I hadn’t blanked on some of the details.
Two days later I was doing my best to saunter with confidence up to a swanky mansion, my little yellow dress highlighting all the curves I didn’t have. The spaghetti straps framed my little bust, my tits so slight I didn’t need a bra. My nipples were all that were pushing out against the nylon-spandex mix. The material stuck to my trim sides, down over my little peach ass, and stopped just a few inches beyond that. If it weren’t for the five inch stilettos of my glossy yellow high heels I may not have had any perkiness back there at all. I rarely wore anything on my feet that high and most of my energy was focused on staying atop them. Even that amount of skin I was showing was a little more than I was comfortable with, but if you’re going to a party with gods you gotta stand out.
I gasped as I stepped inside. The party was a hedonistic wonderland of gods and social media models, a place where temptation hung in the air like the sweetest perfume…and muskiest desires. Some people were standing around eating hors d'oeuvre, sipping cocktails, and totally ignoring the nude guests fucking in various places around them - the mansion’s open entertaining space, pool, and emerald green lawn.
I wasn’t sure where to look, honestly. Humans, nymphs, and…Apollo?...weren’t draped over everything, but the odd lounge chair, area rug, and some steps into the pool all featured different sets of bodies plunged into each other.
As I blushed and stepped towards the bar I could see the conjoined trio of nymphs from the salon reclined on a lounge. Amara and Thalia’s legs were spread wide, a human between each of them. A woman, with her dress pulled away from her generous, swinging breasts, was eagerly lapping at Amara’s slit. A completely nude man was balls deep inside of Thalia.
Between them, Calista’s own quivering snatch was empty and bare to the air, and I could see in her face how desperately she wanted someone to use her, to release her. Her juices had dripped down her neighbor’s thighs and were pooling on the tiled patio.
I don’t know how I expected to feel at the party. Maybe some part of me assumed Aphrodite would be there to greet me, to make it clear how welcomed I was. Yes, I’d given the coin at the door and been let in, but how did anyone really know I was meant to be at a party like this when I didn’t feel like I was?
Liquid courage was my answer to the flutters in my stomach, and I was on my second tequila sunrise when I caught Zeus' eye.
Yeah, you read that right.
The mother-fucking king of the gods - although nowadays he was treated more like you’d appease ‘that uncle’ at Thanksgiving - sauntered over, smirking.
"You have the ‘deer in the headlight’ look of a first-timer to such a party,” Zeus grinned. I tried to hold back the mental wince that came whenever a mortal heard a god use a turn of phrase that included an animal, and Zeus did not appear to take notice. Instead he gently touched a strand of my hair, “Ah, the purple! You must be Colleen. Aphrodite couldn't stop raving about your talents.”
“Ah, well, thank you. Aphrodite makes it easy to do something beautiful and sexy,” I replied, my nervousness taking over my mouth, “This is a great party!”
“Yes, it is! I mean, all of my parties are!” Zeus agreed with my flattery of him, placing a hand to his bare stomach.
I hadn’t meant it to be as much flattery as it was. I hadn’t realized I had strolled into his mansion. I thanked fuck I had been complimentary.
I saw his fingers scratch his belly. He had a dad bod that threaded the needle for me between sexy and slobby, with palm-print swim shorts tied tightly around his waist. Corona Extra-branded sandals adorned his feet, and the sunglasses he’d slid down his nose to look over at me bore the same logo. His hair - both atop his head and over his face - was long and curly, and in one hand he held a large plastic cup with a myriad of umbrellas, stirrers, and cherries sticking out the top. “But, my dear, we do have something of a dress code here…”
‘But’ was the fucking scariest word you could hear a god say. My eyes quickly danced around the room - my dress didn’t appear to be much different than some others. I could feel my pulse quicken and my skin blush.
Soon I realized that ‘something’ was more of the lynchpin in that statement than I realized.
With a not-so-subtle gesture, I felt tingles and warmth, like being enveloped in a sultry breeze, as my body changed. My breasts swelled, becoming heavier and more round, nipples stiffening and perking up - commanded to beg for attention. My waist cinched in, making my forming hourglass figure even more pronounced, while my hips curved outward, screaming, "Grab me!"
There was a tingle in my feet, but I didn’t quite know to what end at that moment. One final detail I wouldn’t see until later was that the king of the gods had added pointed elf-ears, which stretched out through my purple locks. I could feel that they had their own extra sensitivity added as my hair gently brushed them.
I couldn't help but run my hands over my newly enhanced curves, entranced by the silky softness of my skin and the naughty sensation of my own touch - even through the thankfully stretchy dress. I’d always been quietly jealous of the more well-endowed, and although Zeus had changed my body without asking I found myself admiring what he had done. My new boobs were large and soft and perky, but not too heavy or saggy. My nipples were large and sensitive but weren’t causing my pussy to drip and spasm with each breath. I appreciated that, all things considered, Zeus had done some pretty nice work. I was actually pleased with this turn of events.
What came next, maybe not so much.
I instinctively cupped my tits, and knowing better than to leave the expectant-looking Zeus hanging, I mewed, “I see what you mean! Thank you so much, these boobs are amazing!”
Zeus chuckled, and with a sly grin, waved his hand once more. "My dear, you're welcome, but you don’t need to tell me, you can share that freely with anyone! But ‘boobs’ feels too pedestrian for the type of fun you can have with those, I think from now on, you must call them 'fuck pillows.' And it’s a shame they must be squeezed into such a conservative look."
My heart pounded in my chest as Zeus made yet another hand motion. He couldn’t seem to keep his fingers still for one goddamn minute. This time I felt the stuff of my already not-so-modest yellow dress morphing, reshaping into something scandalously smaller, and so much more freaking revealing. My original dress was demure compared to this monstrosity.
I could hardly believe my eyes as I watched the fabric recede and reshape into a micro bikini. It was still yellow, sure, but it barely covered anything. The top was a couple of fabric scraps straining against my new, bigger fuck pillows, like it was on the brink of a major wardrobe malfunction, the upper and bottom edges of my areola teasing out. My nipples pressed against the fabric so tightly it may as well have been painted on them.
The bottoms? Hell, it was a thong, basically a tease that barely hid my labia, and honestly drew more attention to my slit than being naked would have. Even my heels changed, the straps and buckles merging together, becoming more like fuck-me boots on higher stilettos that I teetered even more precariously atop.
I was stuck for a brief second feeling the cool air of the party all over my nearly naked skin, my heart hammering away in my chest. Then the heat of embarrassment took over. Blushing, my heart pounding like a drum, I felt as if every single eye in the room was on me. In truth, I was one of the least interesting things at the party, but that’s not how embarrassment works. I might've accepted the sexier body when I could dress it as I liked, but this was for more of me than I ever wanted to show.
I felt my cheeks turn an even brighter red, but I put on a brave facade. The last thing I wanted to do was show Zeus, of all people, that I was uncomfortable. So I plastered a grin on my face, all the while praying that no one could see through my act. I blinked in relieved disbelief as Zeus nodded his contentment and wiggled his fingers at me again - but this time as a childish wave of ‘goodbye’ since I guess he felt his work was done. My fake grin remained stretched across my face as I watched him putter after a group of social media influencers livestreaming the party.
As soon as I felt he was out of earshot I tried to say “My breasts,” but, sure enough, the words "fuck pillows" were formed by my lips every time I attempted to refer to my newly expanded and displayed bust. Tits, knockers, boobs, chest, each attempt fell from my mouth as “Fuck pillows, fuck pillows, fuck pillows, fuck pillows.”
“Well, shit,” I muttered. And down went the rest of my tequila sunrise as I stared at what I could see was left of my outfit - and modesty. I had fantasized about a body almost like this so I could adorn it with all the sizzling fashions I could never properly pull off - not to make myself a walking billboard of skin.
I considered leaving the party, but I still wanted to find Aphrodite, to make all of…this…worth it.
The sunk cost fallacy asserts itself in strange ways.
With a fresh drink in hand I wobbled and bobbled atop my new heels back into the party. It was then I realized how much Zeus really wanted me to share with people what he’d done. As I mingled with the party guests, I found myself compelled to bring up my "fuck pillows" in conversation.
"Can you believe Zeus gave me these incredible fuck pillows?" I gushed unbidden to one wide-eyed man. "They're so full and soft, I can't stop touching them," I continued, my hands absentmindedly caressing my fuck pillows over the bikini scraps.
A giggling buzzed woman, filled with curious schadenfreude, asked, "How do they feel when you walk?" I couldn't hold back the smile as I automatically replied, "Oh, the way they my fuck pillows bounce and sway is simply intoxicating. It's like having two dowsing rods of pleasure leading the way, teasing everyone who sees me!"
My cheeks burned as I helplessly extolled how I liked being so much on display.
I gulped down yet another tequila sunrise, and feeling my compulsion to talk about my fuck pillows lesson as I encountered more people I’d already talked to, I resumed my search for Aphrodite. But just as my eyes began seriously scanning the guests, a shout caught my attention. I turned, my eyes widening in surprise as I saw Zeus standing by the group of social media models who had been live streaming.
"Are you insulting my pool?" Zeus's voice echoed throughout the room, laced with incredulity and a hint of amusement.
"I just said it's smaller than some of the inflatables I’ve filmed in!" the model retorted, a defiant pout on her face, “It’s still…nice.”
Her friends, who were standing nearby, immediately shifted aside. They exchanged glances, but not glances of concern - more like looks of Can you believe her? and Oh boy, here it comes… They seemed to understand - if not be concerned by - the gravity of what she had said, whereas she remained blissfully ignorant.
And they all kept filming.
"Well then, my dear," Zeus began, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised a hand, the air around it shimmering with the raw, untamed energy that I had just felt so many times over. “If you think this pool is small, perhaps it is you who are the wrong size.”
The tension in the room was thick as a thundercloud as Zeus waved his hand. His divine power crackled in the air, the energy pulsing around him like a physical force. Then, just as suddenly, the room fell into a silence so deep that one could hear the soft fluttering of the model's eyelashes as they blinked in confusion.
Maybe, because I was watching it from the outside, this time it looked more dramatic. Or maybe Zeus upped the dramatic presentation when he was pissed off. Either way, his magic swirled around the model, encircling her body in a sultry dance. Her expensive designer clothes were the first to go. They shimmered and shivered under the magic’s touch, the fabric disintegrating, revealing her perfectly sculpted body to the crowd's eager gaze. A collective gasp echoed through the room as she stood there, naked. Yet defiant.
Then her skin began to ripple and undulate. Slowly, small feathers sprouted from her bare flesh. They were tiny at first, almost indistinguishable from the fine hairs on her skin, but they quickly grew in size and number, covering her body in a blanket of white fluff.
Her “perfect” influencer curves melted and shifted under the feathery coverage. Her slim waist expanded, growing rounder, taking on the graceful, plump shape of a swan's body. Her shapely legs bent and twisted, shrinking into slender, stickish limbs while her feet spread and turned into orange paddles, toes sprawling away from each other while conjoined by the webbing flowing out between them.
Her arms thinned and lengthened, the hands reshaping into wings that flapped with an awkward, frantic rhythm. Her face pushed outwards, her mouth elongating into a beak, her glamorous makeup disappearing under more down. I expected she’d made many a duck face into the phone that currently rested on the poolside tiles, and now her nose and lips were permanently stretched out, stiffly smushed together.
As the transformation finished with her size scaling down, Zeus gently nudged the new swan towards the pool. She stumbled forward, her movements awkward and uncoordinated, a frustrated honk escaping her intermittently. With one last awkward leap, she landed in the pool with a small splash. She floated there, the water rippling around her in a gentle caress. There was certainly plenty of room for her…now.
Zeus seemed delighted. With a smug grin on his face, he gently bent down to speak to his new tenant. “There, isn't that much more fitting? Enjoy your days here, swan. And behave, or you’ll end up a swan fountain."
That business done, Zeus turned and encouraged his guests to resume their merrymaking - which wasn’t hard to do. I could sense how all of the guests were somehow in agreement with the judgment Zeus had just doled out - glancing down at my fuck pillows I wondered how close had I come to such a fate? Better her than me. I mean, what did she expect would happen?
For a few minutes I watched the swan’s other model friends titter and stream her to their followers, none appearing all that torn up about what had transpired. My attention was pulled from the swan and models by a magnetic presence approaching in a purple linen suit.
It was Bacchus, the god of wine and merriment, his eyes gleaming with mischief and a grin that was pure desire.
to be continued...
