Chapter 19

"No, no, no!" Circe screamed, jumping to her feet as the body of Triton fell, sending plates of skewered meat, sweet fruits and wine clattering and splashing to the floor. Without bidding, all but the two slaves holding Arthur rushed forward to clean up the mess caused by their mistress' temper tantrum. "No, I broke her will; I cast a spell to break her will. This should never have happened!" Her voice was getting higher and higher as she became more worked up.

Arthur merely smirked; the corners of his mouth that had been so pulled down by the idea of Diana's rape at the hands of his rival were now perked in the ends, a smug smirk signifying that he was more than satisfied with how his ex-fiancée had performed. "She doesn't go down that easily, witch,"
he said with a bark of laughter. He should know, he thought to himself; the Atlantian forces had sent two official assassination attempts after the Queen, plus the failed attempt by Mera, and he had gone up against her himself, several times under water, in his own element no less, and every attempt had failed. Miserably.

:"Oh shut up you," she said with a dismissive slap across the face.

Circe was a demi God, as strong as Arthur almost, not quite as physically strong or durable as an Amazon, but of the same line, and her attack was enough to put Arthur down onto his stomach, the slaves letting him go only to pick him up and resume restraining him.

"Take him away, I don't even want to look at him; I'm sick of him!" she shouted, waiving her hand over in Arthur's general direction.

The two young men grunted with effort as they dragged a struggling Arthur to his feet. As much as he fought back, it seemed that each man was as strong as he was by himself, making breaking their grip a near impossible task. His feet skidded down the steps that had lead up to her dais and just as they were nearing the entrance to her main chamber she shouted for them to halt.

"Stop! Where are you going with him!?" she demanded, her hands on her curvy, purple gilded hips. "I need him! He's going to be the key to my plan to destroy Diana…" She cooed as she stepped down to the main floor, her heels clicking on the shiny marble as she went.

Arthur was having trouble keeping his eyes off her; the way her hips moved was hypnotic, and that was the point. While she stalked towards him like a hunter to her prey, Circe was whispering a love spell, something that would put him, all be it temporarily, completely under her spell. He was conscious of a hand pulling his head back to stare into her eyes, but at that point it was as if he was living outside his body, like his mind was replaced and he was merely watching a movie; he could see, hear, feel and smell everything around him, he was even confident he could taste them if given an option, but he was not in control of his reactions.

Circe continued to come forward, sliding an arm around his shoulder, drawing his face towards hers. Yeah, he could taste.

He was surprised with how good the witch tasted, the intoxicating wine of her lips seemed to flood his mouth, drowning and dulling his senses further. Within a few seconds of her kiss, the slaves released his arms and he had no desire to run away, or if he did it was so muted that he couldn't respond. All he wanted was more of her…

His hands found her slim waist, one moving up her back, tickled by her long, luscious violet hair, the other roughly groping her backside, driving her hips against his, wanting, craving female companionship in a way he hadn't felt since he was a youth in bloom. What was coming over him? Was this all some spell? But the desire, it felt so real, so organic, and had only kicked in once he had gotten a taste of the witch's heroine kisses.

Her body pressed into his and he felt the heat, and her desire, brushing up against his own. How long had it been since Mera died? Three? Four years? And Diana, that stolen, chaste kiss he had not desired in the first place, accepting only as a token of the past, and a way to remove her from his future, that was months ago, a torturous time.

Circe was awakening a hunger deep within Arthur, and he was helpless to resist. He was, after all, only a man, with needs, and desires, that could not simply be fulfilled by violence and death, as much as he might wish that to be true.

She was the first one to break the kiss, being forced to pull further back than she had anticipated due to an over eager King's desire to keep the passion. "Hush now," she cooed to him, depositing a cute, chaste kiss, one that would be reminiscent, purposely, of Diana. "I'll give you everything you desire; peace in your kingdom, the power to restore Atlantis to its former glory, and a powerful, beautiful queen at your side."

"I don't need a queen," he protested, clearly Circe's hold wasn't finalized yet. His words were Arthur, though his body's reaction was exactly what she needed, feeling the press of something hard against the flat of her stomach pushed tight against his pelvis.

"Oh, you don't?" she said, feigning hurt in her melodic voice, a smooth, soft hand stroking the stubble ridden planes of his face. She jutted her purple lips out, her bottom out further, in a false pout. "You don't need me, lover?" she questioned, pushing into him with her body, and trying to work the last vestiges of free will from him with her magic.

It appeared to be working; he pushed back, and leaning over her pressed a kiss to her mouth with hungry, lustful abandon. A groan escaped his throat as she pulled him deeper into the kiss and she felt him start pushing her backwards, towards her divan. Oh, she thought to herself with a wicked cackle, this couldn't be going any better! Once Arthur laid with Circe, her spell would be almost unbreakable for the short term, and over time she would continue to work her fingers into the warrior king of Atlantis.

She didn't get her Ares, but she would get a blonde Adonis of her own, Hippolyta, you bitch, and it would come at the cost of the Amazon Diana's heart. Arthur's strong hand gripped her backside, pulling her up to rest on the divan. Unlike Diana, she offered no resistance, but rather compelled him further. Her hands gripped the side of his face and pulled him down over her, pressing hot, heavy kisses against his mouth, running along his jaw line and down his neck.

Arthur was unable to control his desire, every touch, every kiss, every second spent drove him deeper into the madness of his lust. He wanted her more with each passing second.

"Now how do we get these off?" she cooed to him, tugging at his scale armour. He looked down and nodded, complying by removing his shirt, exposing a broad, well-muscled chest, a road map of scars ripping across his body. Circe bit her bottom lip and grinned, a lustful pur escaping from deep in her throat as she reached out, caressing the flesh in front of her.

"And what about the rest?" she challenged with a wry smirk, pushing him back into a standing position to strip.

Naturally, Arthur was forced to comply, though the impression he got of his own actions were that they were fully consensual; he wanted to please her, he wanted to make love with Circe. He wanted to serve her.

"What a good boy," she cooed, beckoning him now with a crook of her finger. "Now, come here and give me a kiss…"