EoM Bk 2: Favored and Forgotten
Copyright© 2026 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 10: The Violation
Mythology Sex Story: Chapter 10: The Violation - With humanity rising and Prometheus bound in endless torment, Zeus entrusts Apollo, Hermes, and Athena to guide mortals while he indulges himself. Over centuries, the gods grow more fascinated with humanity. Ixion is welcomed on Olympus while Demeter fears for Persephone. Meanwhile, Zeus and Hera’s quiet personal struggles threatens to reshape Olympus, the Underworld, and the fate of gods and mortals alike.
Caution: This Mythology Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Science Fiction Paranormal Cheating BTB Cream Pie First Pregnancy Big Breasts Small Breasts Geeks Politics Royalty Transformation Violence
“ ... but when he [assaulted] the maid Persephone...”
— Oppian (traditionally attributed; fl. c. 2nd–3rd century CE), Halieutica (Ἁλιευτικά / Halieutika), Book III, line 485. Originally composed in Greek during the Roman Imperial period. Translation by A. W. Mair. First published in Oppian, Colluthus, Tryphiodorus, Loeb Classical Library No. 219, Harvard University Press / William Heinemann Ltd., 1928. Public domain.
Content Warning: This chapter and the following chapter contains the thematic depictions of sexual assault, rape, physical violence, and emotional distress. While the assault itself is not graphically depicted (as the author felt this would be gratuitous and unnecessary), the events leading up to and immediately following the incident are portrayed. Reader discretion is advised.
Ixion did not look back once Persephone moved away from the beauty that was Hera.
He stood before the Queen of Heaven, majesty itself, beauty incarnate, both mage and archer, and in the splendor of her magnificence, he found himself wanting. He had learned, in his short time among the gods, that too much humility could be as offensive as too little, so he needed to temper his words well, or else he could lose this precious moment with her.
“My queen,” he said, his voice steady.
Hera regarded him in silence.
Up close, she was more beautiful than he might have imagined. Her violet eyes had flecks of gold, her dark brown hair had a shine that made it dazzle like silver, her skin was more smooth than a marble statue, and she had this presence that made his knees weak. She was both distance itself blended with the very concept of being untouchable, yet at the same time, she had this aura of invitation and welcome that he could not define.
He might have wondered what words would be right to say to her until he recalled that he had spoken to her. Nevertheless, she appeared to be looking at him for a continuation of the conversation.
“What is it you wished to speak with me about, Mortal?” she asked at last.
Ixion nodded once. He tried to speak but he found that all the water that coated his tongue, teeth, and vocal chords had dried up, so he struggled to get the words. He almost coughed, but he knew his earthly frailty might make her lose any interest in him. As such, he swallowed once, both to appear as though he was nervous as well as to moisten his mouth.
“Are you ... happy?” he asked.
The question settled between them like a stone dropped into still water, and a red flashed over the purple of Hera’s irises.
“That,” she said, her tone cool and even, “is none of your concern.”
This did not cause Ixion to retreat.
Instead, he let out a small breath, as though steadying himself.
“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But your husband, as well as other Olympians, has shown me favor. I am welcomed here because of him, and I would be a fool if I did not do the most good that I could.”
He lifted his eyes to meet hers fully. Loveliness could not describe all that he saw there.
“It would not do,” he continued, “for me to offend what he values.”
Hera looked at him for a moment longer before tilting her head in curiosity at this man.
Ixion knew that she understood the truth that Zeus had favored him. Had brought him to Olympus, lifted him above his station, placed him within the fragile balance of community of gods.
This was his one and only chance to test how strong his position was in a place where even the weakest of them could kill him within a moment.
“You presume much,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I observe much more.”
“No,” she said.
The word was quiet in its simple finality.
“I am not.”
He took a small step closer—not enough to be overt, but enough to change the space between them.
“A queen such as you,” he said softly, “should not have to endure what lesser women accept.”
Hera’s eyes narrowed slightly at his proximity to her.
“You speak with a familiarity of my position that you could not possibly fathom.”
“Maybe not, but I understand loneliness,” Ixion said.
The air between them grew still, for she had no answer to him. Hera did not move toward or away from him, which gave Ixion reason to pause, but this one, brief moment of intimacy was his only chance.
They were mildly secluded away from the others. All things considered, this might be his best and only chance, so he made his choice.
He leaned in, closing the distance, intent clear in the motion, and for the first time since he approached the queen, Hera was ill prepared.
His lips touched hers as best he could, and Hera recoiled in disgust and confusion.
Persephone did not realize how quickly she was moving until the sounds of Olympus began to fade away behind her. She did not run but walked at a hastened pace. How this Ixion was looking at Hera bothered the Queen so much that she took her eyes off of Persephone.
For that, she wanted to thank the mortal man.
Everything from the light to the sounds faded the further she got.
Only when the air changed to a cooler, softer, and less crowded did she lose any sense of haste in her step.
Once outside, hearing a waterfall, Persephone halted.
For the first time since arriving to the godly city, she felt alone.
In this miniscule tick of a second, Persephone realized that she had no idea what she was going to do now that she was by herself. She had whined, moaned, and scampered off to have her privacy, but with her freedom, she found she had not expected to succeed.
She let out a scoff and smiled, shaking her head.
How unusual loneliness felt. Being there, she wondered what else she might do in solitude.
Or so she thought she was in seclusion.
“Have you lost your way?”
The voice came from behind her.
Persephone turned sharply.
He stood there as though he had always been with the air bending around his presence to exemplify that which was always great about him. Zeus was, as always, the King of Olympus. He watched her with an easy expression, which Persephone might have qualified as kind, for she knew of no other word to quantify him.
Persephone straightened at once.
“My lord,” she said, bowing her head slightly.
Zeus waved it off, almost lazily.
“There’s no need for that here,” he said.
There was something in the way he said the words. There was a playfulness that carried an undercurrent of respect for her that Persephone did not understand because she was not given this from Athena, Hera, or even Artemis.
Persephone looked at him as he analyzed her.
“So, then...” Zeus said. “Tell me, child; are you lost?”
“I’m not lost,” she said with a shake of her head. “I only ... needed a moment to myself.”
Zeus looked her over; though, she could not understand why.
“A moment?” he echoed. He let out a laugh. “I can understand that need all too well. Olympus can be a bit much sometimes.”
“The city is wonderful,” she admitted. “But I just feel suffocated by Aunt Hera and all of the others constantly watching me.”