I was playing around with a few ideas one day and I thought it might be cool to do something with Greek mythology. So I toyed around with it for a bit, testing out a few ideas, and came up with this. Kind of experimental for me, and a little more challening to write, but I enjoyed it. Parts two and three will be coming later, after which I'll probably finish up my slasher story. Until then, please enjoy and let me know what you think. By the way, I took quite a few liberties with the mythology, so keep in mind that any inaccuracies are intentional. Thanks.
Content Note: This story includes nudity and some rather explicit sexual content, so if that bothers you please don't continue.
Laughter of the Gods
Oh come muse, sing to us, tell us the great tales of old. Of fair Greece in her days of glory, when immortal Zeus ruled from lofty Olympus, sing to us, oh muse, of the ancient gods. But there are many tales to be told, of heroes and goddesses fair, of monstrous creatures and legendary deeds. What tale then, shall be told in full? Perhaps the tale of Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera, the most beautiful of the goddesses, and their seeking of the golden apple? It is a beautiful story, but has become distorted by the great mists of time. Sing then, muse, tell us the true tale of the Laughter of the Gods!
Enyo’s Lament
The fire burned violently, consuming anyone foolish enough to enter it. Here at the foot of Ares’ throne it burned, ceaselessly, brighter than any mortal fire. But the god of war was currently away, in council with the other gods on high Olympus. Here his children sat, bored with their immortal existence.
“Oh those haughty goddesses, they sit high on their thrones of honor, how I despise them!” So spoke Enyo, goddess of strife. “Their beauty surpasses all, it is said, while I rot in this Limbo. They are loved by all! Such order and beauty I cannot abide. How may I sow the seeds of discord among so lovely a field? What schemes may I devise to make the great goddesses suffer?”
Her brother Phobos, god of terror, stood and spoke to his sister. “Dearest sister, I know that you delight in spreading strife and discontent, but would it not be unwise to so lightly contend with the dwellers of Olympus? It is said that the wrath of Hera and Athena can be great.”
“Peace brother,” she replied, “I do not fear even so mighty a host. I have devised a plot that will bring the goddesses to their knees and cause great discord among them. I have here an apple of gold, a possession of great power and value. Surely all of the immortal goddesses covet it, but I shall give it to a mortal. He shall award it to only one of them, the one who has the most beautiful laughter! The other two, spurned thus, shall envy the victor and contention will arise. Malice and strife, hatred and jealousy, how I revel in these. Now I must depart for the earth speedily, to set my scheme into motion.”
“I wish you good fortune sister, may our father smile upon you.” Phobos replied. “But take care not to anger the immortal goddesses too greatly.”
Paris’ Gift
The young shepherd Paris roamed the green fields of Troy with his flock, working diligently to keep them from danger. He moved them to a fresh pasture, close to the river, and sat down under an olive tree to rest and keep out of the hot sun. After a meal of cheese and bread he began to doze off, the afternoon heat beating down upon him. When he opened his eyes he saw a gorgeous woman standing before him, robed in white holding a bow in one hand and a golden apple in the other. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was dreaming or not.
“What fortune has visited me, to be graced in slumber by so beautiful a dream?”
The woman smiled kindly. “Peace young Paris, this is no dream. I am Eris, the giver of good fortune. I have here a gift for you, this apple of gold.”
She held it up, shimmering in the bright Mediterranean sun. “This apple is a greatly prized among the gods, and they will surely grant the one who possesses it anything that he desires in return for so great a jewel. The three most beautiful of the immortals, Hera, Aphrodite, and Athena, shall seek you here. You must give this apple to one of them, and one only. But hear me, young Paris, they must each pass a test to determine who is most fit to possess the apple. You must give it only to the one with the most beautiful laughter. You must make them laugh, tickle their naked bodies until they can no longer bear the touch. The one whose laughter is as music to your ears is the one who shall take possession of the apple. Do not fear immortal retribution, Paris, make them laugh until they are unable to withstand it for fear of madness. I shall ensure that they cannot escape. When you have chosen, you shall indeed be rewarded.”
Paris bowed his head and accepted the apple from his visitor. “I shall do as you say Eris, and thank you for so kingly a gift.”
Enyo vanished, grinning evilly and awaiting the arrival of the other goddesses, hidden.
Aphrodite’s Torment
Paris waited eagerly as his sheep grazed in the field. Fortune had indeed smiled upon him!
“What fortune has been visited upon me, that a mortal such as I should be indulged to caress the immortal flesh of the goddesses? It is said that they are fair beyond measure, in every way the perfect female form. As undying beings removed from the hardships of mortal existence, their bodies must be in perfect condition, without flaw, their skin smooth and untouched. How sensitive, then, they must be to a mortal’s rough stroke.”
It was truly an incredible gift to a mortal, and the young shepherd pleasured himself as he though about it. Not long after, a bright flash appeared on the horizon, and Paris caught his first glimpse of a goddess. He thought he must have strayed into paradise, for never before had he seen so beautiful a creature. Tall and fair-skinned, with long, flowing red hair and a perfectly curvy, feminine body. Her face was beautiful beyond imagination, her breasts, hips, and legs in every way perfect. This was Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and love.
“Hello Paris, son of Priam, bearer of the golden apple. I am Aphrodite. I have heard that there is to be a contest among the goddesses, to determine who is the fairest? I assure you, I am the most beautiful of all the immortals. Grant me the apple Paris, and I shall reward you with whatever you desire. You need only ask…”
She moved seductively toward him, brushing him lightly as she passed. “Anything your heart desires,” she whispered in his ear, causing gooseflesh to rise on his skin.
He turned to face her. “Great Aphrodite, I am honored by the presence of so lovely a being. I have been instructed to grant this apple only to the goddess whose laughter is beyond beautiful. Surely my eyes must behold all three fair immortals before I render my decision, and test the beauty of their laughter.”
Suddenly a great marble slab arose from the ground and Aphrodite was thrust onto it by an unseen force. Ropes sprung from the earth, binding the goddess’s wrists and ankles so that she was spread out upon the slab and entirely unable to move.
“What trickery is this?” Aphrodite exclaimed. “Who dares to treat me thusly?”
Paris approached the bound, naked goddess, speaking softly. “Forgive me, great Aphrodite, for this inconvenience. In order to uncover the true beauty of your laughter, I must test the limits of your sensitivity. Surely for so powerful a deity this simple test will be as a game to a child.”
“Very well then, Paris, but remember that this is an honor above honors. For few are permitted to touch this body, especially of mortal-kind.”
Paris placed his hands on her hips and began to squeeze gently with his fingers. She instantly erupted into high-pitched laughter unlike any Paris had ever heard before. He recoiled, savoring it.
“I, I had forgotten how sensitive my flesh is,” Aphrodite gasped. “I am a goddess and unused to the harsh touch of a mortal. I am unsure whether I shall be able to bear it or not.”
Paris licked his lips and moved closer. “Well then, dear Aphrodite, let us explore and find out.”
He began to stroke under her long, slender legs, eliciting another round of immortal laughter. Her legs were apparently extremely ticklish, even more so than her hips. Her high pitched laughter drove Paris crazy, and he began to search for more ticklish spots. He tried around her knees but failed to obtain a satisfactory response, so he moved to her upper body and began to tickle under her sizeable breasts. He received a much better reaction here, causing the naked goddess to thrash and struggle against her bonds, to no avail. Enyo’s dark magic held her tightly, her taught body highly exposed to Paris’s searching fingers.
Paris moved on, wiggling his fingertips under Aphrodite’s exposed underarms, which increased her mad laughter. He tried varying his technique, alternating between greater and lighter pressure, more and fewer fingers, or kneading with his knuckles to find the most effective method. It seemed that her laughter would decrease with more rapid, furious movements, so he tried using fewer fingers and gently stroking her pale skin. He also found that gently kneading her ribs with his palms and knuckles caused her to explode with laughter, which was becoming increasingly panicked and high-pitched.
“Oh Paris, I cahahanot bear another stroke! Cease this test, I beg of you!”
Paris grinned. “Fair Aphrodite, I am afraid that I cannot. I was instructed to plumb the depths of your laughter, for only then can I determine if yours is the most beautiful of the goddesses.”
His tickling fingers ran up and down her sides, making her thrash more wildly than ever. He found that simply tapping his fingertips quickly made her laugh the most here.
“I command you to stop at oooonce! Please mortal, I am far too ticklish!”
The tickling continued, into every corner of her supple body, Paris’ tickling fingers testing and prodding every inch until he found a spot that made her laugh hysterically. He now moved down her body to her feet. Perfectly shaped and soft as an infant’s skin, without a single callous or imperfection. He delighted himself by stroking them with his fingertips, then by holding her toes back and scribbling up and down the tender soles with his index finger. She was possible more ticklish here than on her legs, so to compare he began to tickle her feet and legs at the same time. This drove the helpless goddess crazy, sending her into her most violent convulsions yet. She seemed to be reaching her breaking point, but Paris wasn’t finished just yet. Granting her a brief reprieve, he ran over to the olive tree and broke off a small branch with a single leaf attached.
“Let us find out how much you can truly bear on your feet,” he said.
“Mercy young Paris! What compels you to torture me so? Surely it is not the will of a god that drives you?”
Paris ignored her and turned is attention to her lovely soles. He stroked her feet with the olive leaf, which for some reason tickled her very badly.
“Peaaace! Pleeehehease! I beg of you!”
But Paris couldn’t stop. His body seemed to be moving on its own, so completely absorbed was he in tickling her feet. Her laughter reached a boiling point, becoming fluty and musical, a sound Paris had never heard before. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life. He continued, sometimes using the leaf and sometimes switching over to the branch, scribbling all over her baby soft soles with the intensity of a madman. Unable to stop, he moved up her body again, and this time began to probe her genitals, which were warm and, to Paris‘s surprise, very wet. Perhaps she enjoyed this to some extent after all. The goddess breathed in sharply, and began to giggle as he gently caressed the area, simultaneously tickling and pleasuring her. Her moans intermingled with her giggling, forming a sound that no mortal had ever heard. But Paris wasn’t ready to stop just yet. He shocked her by suddenly tickling her ribs, sending her back into the high-pitched screaming laughter. He moved his fingers up and down her entire body, making her thrash and convulse with maddening laughter. He did not stop until she no longer had the strength to laugh, and simply lay there panting, her body still tingling. Never before had she experienced such torture, or such pleasure. And at the hands of a mortal, no less. Paris retreated to the shade of the olive tree and sat down under its branches, taking a long drink of water from his water skin. He heard Enyo’s voice come drifting down from the branches.
“Well done Paris, you have extracted laughter from one of the three goddesses. The next is approaching. I shall hide Aphrodite and free the marble slab for our new guest, fair Athena.”
Part 2 coming soon...
In the next installments, Athena and Hera will meet the same fate as Aphrodite. With plenty of F/F action, goddess tickling goddess, and all three getting it at the same time. Probably also some foot licking by Paris's sheep. Keep a lookout for part 2, coming soon.
Content Note: This story includes nudity and some rather explicit sexual content, so if that bothers you please don't continue.
Laughter of the Gods
Oh come muse, sing to us, tell us the great tales of old. Of fair Greece in her days of glory, when immortal Zeus ruled from lofty Olympus, sing to us, oh muse, of the ancient gods. But there are many tales to be told, of heroes and goddesses fair, of monstrous creatures and legendary deeds. What tale then, shall be told in full? Perhaps the tale of Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera, the most beautiful of the goddesses, and their seeking of the golden apple? It is a beautiful story, but has become distorted by the great mists of time. Sing then, muse, tell us the true tale of the Laughter of the Gods!
Enyo’s Lament
The fire burned violently, consuming anyone foolish enough to enter it. Here at the foot of Ares’ throne it burned, ceaselessly, brighter than any mortal fire. But the god of war was currently away, in council with the other gods on high Olympus. Here his children sat, bored with their immortal existence.
“Oh those haughty goddesses, they sit high on their thrones of honor, how I despise them!” So spoke Enyo, goddess of strife. “Their beauty surpasses all, it is said, while I rot in this Limbo. They are loved by all! Such order and beauty I cannot abide. How may I sow the seeds of discord among so lovely a field? What schemes may I devise to make the great goddesses suffer?”
Her brother Phobos, god of terror, stood and spoke to his sister. “Dearest sister, I know that you delight in spreading strife and discontent, but would it not be unwise to so lightly contend with the dwellers of Olympus? It is said that the wrath of Hera and Athena can be great.”
“Peace brother,” she replied, “I do not fear even so mighty a host. I have devised a plot that will bring the goddesses to their knees and cause great discord among them. I have here an apple of gold, a possession of great power and value. Surely all of the immortal goddesses covet it, but I shall give it to a mortal. He shall award it to only one of them, the one who has the most beautiful laughter! The other two, spurned thus, shall envy the victor and contention will arise. Malice and strife, hatred and jealousy, how I revel in these. Now I must depart for the earth speedily, to set my scheme into motion.”
“I wish you good fortune sister, may our father smile upon you.” Phobos replied. “But take care not to anger the immortal goddesses too greatly.”
Paris’ Gift
The young shepherd Paris roamed the green fields of Troy with his flock, working diligently to keep them from danger. He moved them to a fresh pasture, close to the river, and sat down under an olive tree to rest and keep out of the hot sun. After a meal of cheese and bread he began to doze off, the afternoon heat beating down upon him. When he opened his eyes he saw a gorgeous woman standing before him, robed in white holding a bow in one hand and a golden apple in the other. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was dreaming or not.
“What fortune has visited me, to be graced in slumber by so beautiful a dream?”
The woman smiled kindly. “Peace young Paris, this is no dream. I am Eris, the giver of good fortune. I have here a gift for you, this apple of gold.”
She held it up, shimmering in the bright Mediterranean sun. “This apple is a greatly prized among the gods, and they will surely grant the one who possesses it anything that he desires in return for so great a jewel. The three most beautiful of the immortals, Hera, Aphrodite, and Athena, shall seek you here. You must give this apple to one of them, and one only. But hear me, young Paris, they must each pass a test to determine who is most fit to possess the apple. You must give it only to the one with the most beautiful laughter. You must make them laugh, tickle their naked bodies until they can no longer bear the touch. The one whose laughter is as music to your ears is the one who shall take possession of the apple. Do not fear immortal retribution, Paris, make them laugh until they are unable to withstand it for fear of madness. I shall ensure that they cannot escape. When you have chosen, you shall indeed be rewarded.”
Paris bowed his head and accepted the apple from his visitor. “I shall do as you say Eris, and thank you for so kingly a gift.”
Enyo vanished, grinning evilly and awaiting the arrival of the other goddesses, hidden.
Aphrodite’s Torment
Paris waited eagerly as his sheep grazed in the field. Fortune had indeed smiled upon him!
“What fortune has been visited upon me, that a mortal such as I should be indulged to caress the immortal flesh of the goddesses? It is said that they are fair beyond measure, in every way the perfect female form. As undying beings removed from the hardships of mortal existence, their bodies must be in perfect condition, without flaw, their skin smooth and untouched. How sensitive, then, they must be to a mortal’s rough stroke.”
It was truly an incredible gift to a mortal, and the young shepherd pleasured himself as he though about it. Not long after, a bright flash appeared on the horizon, and Paris caught his first glimpse of a goddess. He thought he must have strayed into paradise, for never before had he seen so beautiful a creature. Tall and fair-skinned, with long, flowing red hair and a perfectly curvy, feminine body. Her face was beautiful beyond imagination, her breasts, hips, and legs in every way perfect. This was Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and love.
“Hello Paris, son of Priam, bearer of the golden apple. I am Aphrodite. I have heard that there is to be a contest among the goddesses, to determine who is the fairest? I assure you, I am the most beautiful of all the immortals. Grant me the apple Paris, and I shall reward you with whatever you desire. You need only ask…”
She moved seductively toward him, brushing him lightly as she passed. “Anything your heart desires,” she whispered in his ear, causing gooseflesh to rise on his skin.
He turned to face her. “Great Aphrodite, I am honored by the presence of so lovely a being. I have been instructed to grant this apple only to the goddess whose laughter is beyond beautiful. Surely my eyes must behold all three fair immortals before I render my decision, and test the beauty of their laughter.”
Suddenly a great marble slab arose from the ground and Aphrodite was thrust onto it by an unseen force. Ropes sprung from the earth, binding the goddess’s wrists and ankles so that she was spread out upon the slab and entirely unable to move.
“What trickery is this?” Aphrodite exclaimed. “Who dares to treat me thusly?”
Paris approached the bound, naked goddess, speaking softly. “Forgive me, great Aphrodite, for this inconvenience. In order to uncover the true beauty of your laughter, I must test the limits of your sensitivity. Surely for so powerful a deity this simple test will be as a game to a child.”
“Very well then, Paris, but remember that this is an honor above honors. For few are permitted to touch this body, especially of mortal-kind.”
Paris placed his hands on her hips and began to squeeze gently with his fingers. She instantly erupted into high-pitched laughter unlike any Paris had ever heard before. He recoiled, savoring it.
“I, I had forgotten how sensitive my flesh is,” Aphrodite gasped. “I am a goddess and unused to the harsh touch of a mortal. I am unsure whether I shall be able to bear it or not.”
Paris licked his lips and moved closer. “Well then, dear Aphrodite, let us explore and find out.”
He began to stroke under her long, slender legs, eliciting another round of immortal laughter. Her legs were apparently extremely ticklish, even more so than her hips. Her high pitched laughter drove Paris crazy, and he began to search for more ticklish spots. He tried around her knees but failed to obtain a satisfactory response, so he moved to her upper body and began to tickle under her sizeable breasts. He received a much better reaction here, causing the naked goddess to thrash and struggle against her bonds, to no avail. Enyo’s dark magic held her tightly, her taught body highly exposed to Paris’s searching fingers.
Paris moved on, wiggling his fingertips under Aphrodite’s exposed underarms, which increased her mad laughter. He tried varying his technique, alternating between greater and lighter pressure, more and fewer fingers, or kneading with his knuckles to find the most effective method. It seemed that her laughter would decrease with more rapid, furious movements, so he tried using fewer fingers and gently stroking her pale skin. He also found that gently kneading her ribs with his palms and knuckles caused her to explode with laughter, which was becoming increasingly panicked and high-pitched.
“Oh Paris, I cahahanot bear another stroke! Cease this test, I beg of you!”
Paris grinned. “Fair Aphrodite, I am afraid that I cannot. I was instructed to plumb the depths of your laughter, for only then can I determine if yours is the most beautiful of the goddesses.”
His tickling fingers ran up and down her sides, making her thrash more wildly than ever. He found that simply tapping his fingertips quickly made her laugh the most here.
“I command you to stop at oooonce! Please mortal, I am far too ticklish!”
The tickling continued, into every corner of her supple body, Paris’ tickling fingers testing and prodding every inch until he found a spot that made her laugh hysterically. He now moved down her body to her feet. Perfectly shaped and soft as an infant’s skin, without a single callous or imperfection. He delighted himself by stroking them with his fingertips, then by holding her toes back and scribbling up and down the tender soles with his index finger. She was possible more ticklish here than on her legs, so to compare he began to tickle her feet and legs at the same time. This drove the helpless goddess crazy, sending her into her most violent convulsions yet. She seemed to be reaching her breaking point, but Paris wasn’t finished just yet. Granting her a brief reprieve, he ran over to the olive tree and broke off a small branch with a single leaf attached.
“Let us find out how much you can truly bear on your feet,” he said.
“Mercy young Paris! What compels you to torture me so? Surely it is not the will of a god that drives you?”
Paris ignored her and turned is attention to her lovely soles. He stroked her feet with the olive leaf, which for some reason tickled her very badly.
“Peaaace! Pleeehehease! I beg of you!”
But Paris couldn’t stop. His body seemed to be moving on its own, so completely absorbed was he in tickling her feet. Her laughter reached a boiling point, becoming fluty and musical, a sound Paris had never heard before. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life. He continued, sometimes using the leaf and sometimes switching over to the branch, scribbling all over her baby soft soles with the intensity of a madman. Unable to stop, he moved up her body again, and this time began to probe her genitals, which were warm and, to Paris‘s surprise, very wet. Perhaps she enjoyed this to some extent after all. The goddess breathed in sharply, and began to giggle as he gently caressed the area, simultaneously tickling and pleasuring her. Her moans intermingled with her giggling, forming a sound that no mortal had ever heard. But Paris wasn’t ready to stop just yet. He shocked her by suddenly tickling her ribs, sending her back into the high-pitched screaming laughter. He moved his fingers up and down her entire body, making her thrash and convulse with maddening laughter. He did not stop until she no longer had the strength to laugh, and simply lay there panting, her body still tingling. Never before had she experienced such torture, or such pleasure. And at the hands of a mortal, no less. Paris retreated to the shade of the olive tree and sat down under its branches, taking a long drink of water from his water skin. He heard Enyo’s voice come drifting down from the branches.
“Well done Paris, you have extracted laughter from one of the three goddesses. The next is approaching. I shall hide Aphrodite and free the marble slab for our new guest, fair Athena.”
Part 2 coming soon...
In the next installments, Athena and Hera will meet the same fate as Aphrodite. With plenty of F/F action, goddess tickling goddess, and all three getting it at the same time. Probably also some foot licking by Paris's sheep. Keep a lookout for part 2, coming soon.
Looking forward to part two! 
