ALL CHARACTERS PORTRAYED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE.
Summary: Weary from battle and wishing a respite from the losses of war, Harry absconds from Wizarding Britain, leaving everything he knew behind. Armed with the Hallows, Harry travels the Magical World, learning secrets long forgotten and breaking the boundaries of magic itself. However, it’s when he stumbles upon an abandoned temple that his life truly begins to change, drawing the eyes of beings long thought to have faded into history and myth…
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Chapter 6: Ερωτοτόκος
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Hecate was a prideful goddess. Why should she not? The weave of magic that bound the entire world was hers to command. Yes, it was true that other gods and goddesses could claim the same. The weave belonged to all pantheons. Every mythos was saturated by it, tied to the weave’s very will. The weave was born from the same divinity that the gods themselves sprang from. A kinship shared between incomprehensible concepts, but where the gods took physical forms—manifestations that the mortals could accept, worship, praise—the weave chose a different path. Consciousness it had not, nor thoughts or a will of its own. That is where Hecate stood above the other so-called gods and goddesses of magic.
Hecate was no mere Wiccan goddess. She is magic. The very mouthpiece of the weave itself, the one borne to protect and care for the divine source of magic. Where other gods of magic simply held a deeper understanding of the weave, Hecate was part of it. The liferoots of magic were burrowed into the very depths of her soul. None could truly understand the weave better than her; none could even try. It would be like asking a child to understand the very heartbeat beneath their mother's chest. It is a comfort to them, a lullaby in their ear on the darkest nights, but nothing more.
Except to Hecate.
Hecate hears that heartbeat and understands. Because that same rhythmic thumping pounds away in her chest, too.
It is comfort, yes, but it is also responsibility.
The weave binds the mortal world and the divine together. A terrible balance that always rests upon a knife's edge. Mortals and gods alike covet power. Both yearn for more than they are truly capable of handling. Allow oneside to indulge upon the weave’s gifts too much, and the doom of both worlds would be all but guaranteed. The other gods of magic did not see this. They believe themselves to be guardians of their small piece of the weave, yet they are none the wiser to the constant push and pull of magic between both worlds. It is Hecate who maintains that balance. It is Hecate who could ever hope to withstand such an immense strain and still keep her essence intact. The other gods did not understand, nor would they.
After all, when does a child ever truly understand their parents' sorrow?
Hecate saw. Hecate understood. She was part of the weave and bore the strain of it every day, as she has for millennia and for more to come. It is what’s made her strong. It is what’s made her magic itself.
So yes, Hecate was a prideful goddess. So when Aphrodite presented her…proposal, Hecate had very nearly snubbed the goddess on principle alone.
Of course, that decision would have led to a very messy outcome, and not one that Hecate was all too confident would be beneficial to her. Her recent grievances with Aphrodite aside, Hecate knew the love goddess was not a being to be trifled with. She was not blind like the other gods. Aphrodite was an Olympian for a reason. The raw power that radiated from the love deity’s soul was a frightful yet awe-inspiring sight. Many have forgotten what that power did to the Titans in the first Titanomachy. They have forgotten how many the goddess of love felled with her hands alone.
Hecate has not forgotten.
Though it was not fear that made Hecate accept the goddess’s offer. Aphrodite’s little power play aside, Hecate saw the proposal for what it was.
It was an olive branch.
Hecate knew that Aphrodite did not truly despise her, and though the goddess sometimes vexed her, Hecate could claim no true malice for the love goddess either. In fact, they held a kinship with one another, so to speak. It was an unspoken rule among Olympus that the goddesses looked out for one another. While Hecate was not exactly a sociable goddess, she still stuck by this unspoken rule, always there to aid and counsel her fellow goddesses when they sought her out. Now, it seemed, it was Aphrodite’s turn to do the same for her.
That was one of the reasons she was able to stamp down her pride and accept the goddess's proposal. The other was…well…
Hecate took a breath as she stood outside their bedroom door. The faintest moans could be heard through the thick wood, doing little to help the sudden nervous tingle inside the goddess’s gut.
Part of her essence raged and hissed at the insipid quiver of anxiety broiling in her chest. She was a Greek goddess for crying out loud! She’s experienced nearly every flesh’s pleasure imaginable with a myriad of partners. For Khaos sake, she’s even shared Aphrodite’s bed more than once. So then why now do her nerves tremble like a scared maiden on her wedding night?
She knew why, though. Of course she did.
This was no after solstice fling with the love goddess, nor was this just another night with one of her mortal playthings.
It was him.
Her chosen—the very culmination of her desires wrapped together into a singular mortal shell. The one that the weave itself curls around like a shining beacon, as if magic itself is saying ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’
Harry Potter awaited her, and for the first time in her countless centuries, Hecate hesitated.
Doubts and uncertainties lingered in her mind, clouding her thoughts and forcing her the nervous bundle in her stomach to deepen into a ravenous pit of fear. Thoughts that had never once crossed the goddess’s mind gnawed at the forefront of her psyche.
What if she wasn't enough?
What if he didn't want her?
How could she hope to compare to the lover he’d chosen?
The mere thought of rejection was nearly enough to drive the goddess to her knees. If he were any other mortal, the goddess would barely bat an eye; at most, she would smite them for daring to reject a goddess such as her. But this was Harry. She would never–could never harm him. If he rejected her—
The goddess grimaced. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to piece herself back together after that. Not after decades of yearning from afar, for the one mortal whom the weave itself deemed as her equal. She would break, plain and simple.
Just as her thought began to truly spiral, a familiar hazy pink essence pressed down on her temples. Hecate tried to bat the smell of seafoam and roses away, but it was halfhearted at best. Aphrodite giggled at her attempt, her presence coaxing the edges of Hecate’s essence forward.
‘You worry for nothing, Ἑκάτη,’ the goddess hummed.
Hecate rolled her eyes but said nothing. This only seemed to amuse Aphrodite further.
‘You have guided him all his life. He knows this. He sees the care and love you hold for him. Now it is your turn to experience that very same love. Allow yourself that chance, Ἑκάτη.’
Aphrodite’s essence faded away, the last few tendrils teasingly brushing against her physical form just as the goddess’s laughter drifted away.
Hecate closed her eyes, allowing the other goddess’s words to envelope her.
She has waited long enough.
The door clicked open. A crack of flesh and a whorish moan met her ears before she was able to even open the door a crack. The goddess blushed, her cheeks glowing golden as she slowly pushed the door ajar. Moonlight drifted in through the far window, Artemis’s domain easily finding its way through her enchantments due to their tangled mythos. Hecate didn’t mind, especially tonight, when the light of her fellow goddess’s domain illuminated such a truly beautiful sight.
Aphrodite, of course, was captivating. The moonlight glistened against her flawless flesh, shrouding the blonde goddess in an ethereal glow of silver. Her moans were not torn from her, nor taken. Instead, each hitch of breath, every sexily sweet whimper and spine-tingling coo of pleasure was purposeful, the sounds moving from her lips as if they moved with her whole body. When she moaned, it was not an admission of pleasure, but a claim that the pleasure was hers and hers alone. She took ownership of her euphoria. Even on her hands and knees as she was, completely and utterly under Harry’s control, Aphrodite announced her ecstasy as if it were expected, as if her pleasure was meant to be heard and that those who did should fall on their knees and thank her for the sweet sounds of her climax that brushed against their ears.
When the goddess arched her back and cried out, Hecate very nearly did just that, her knees wavering while her pussy tingled from the intoxicating aura of lust and desire radiating off of the goddess. That small slip was enough to draw the attention of the moaning deity. Aphrodite’s head rolled to the side, the lazy movement somehow making Hecate’s pussy quiver all the more as pink met gold.
“We have a–ah!–guest, my love,” the lust goddess cooed, her pink eyes flashing once as the sharp sounds of slapping flesh slowed.
Hecate drew her eyes up first, her golden irises raking over Aphrodite’s form—she’d chosen a new body since the last time they’d feasted on the other, and Hecate wouldn’t deny she very much approved of the new look—until they met the figure of another. Hecate’s breath hitched at the coiled muscle and jagged scars crisscrossing her chosen’s back. She remembers how he received each and every one of them, yet where back then she had felt fury aimed towards those that would dare harm him, now she could only clench her thighs together as her desire built. When she finally tore her gaze away, it was with a stuttered gasp as familiar green eyes met hers, burning with the very same desire and awe she felt smouldering inside her core. All her doubts from earlier, the rampant thoughts and worries were long forgotten now. Harry wanted her. There was no question about it. So, what now, was her answer?
Hecate had only one.
Black gloss-coated lips curved into a knowing smile. Reaching up, Hecate swiped her middle finger over the seam of her dress. The garment fell away in a windless breeze, threads becoming petals of nightshade that blew away into nothingness. She watched Harry’s eyes widen just a fraction, his already lust-heavy gaze exploding with a ravenous hunger as he took his first look upon her divine flesh. Hecate shivered. The phantom feeling of his eyes raking over her naked flesh was more euphoric than the strongest of Dionysus’s wine.
The goddess stepped forward, every step closer to the bed causing the inferno in her core to burn brighter and brighter. Harry’s eyes tracked her the entire way, his green orbs still drinking in every inch of her body as she approached. She could feel Aphrodite’s eyes on her too, the goddess’s amusement hanging in the air, but joined too by the love deity’s own arousal for Hecate. The goddess of magic smirked knowingly, her pride returning with full force from the attention she was receiving.
“Don’t stop on my regard,” she drawled, sliding onto the bed like a snake hunting its next meal. “It’s not every day one gets to watch the goddess of love be put in her place.”
Her words were brazen, but she knew Aphrodite well enough that the goddess would not bristle at her words. True enough, the blonde deity merely quirked an eyebrow, her lips splayed in a lazy smile.
“Is that so? Or do you perhaps love watching others take what you canno–ah~!” Aphrodite gasped, her eyes rolling back as Harry slammed his hips forward, burying his thick, pulsing cock balls deep inside her arse.
Gods, and what a cock it was. Hecate stared hungrily at the thick meaty length as it sawed back and forth inside of Aphrodite’s ass, stretching the goddess open until even she thought Aphrodite could take no more. Of course, the goddess proved her wrong, not only taking his cock with ease but even meeting his thrusts head-on as she rocked her ass back until her asscheeks were giant ripples of slapping flesh.
Hecate marvelled at the sight, her hand unknowingly slipping down to seek out the burning heat emanating from her womanhood, yet before she could, the goddess was suddenly yanked forward by an arm around her waist. Hecate gasped, her head snapping up to where Harry was staring down at her with his burning gaze. The goddess said nothing, the ghost of a whimper escaping her lips as he leaned down and joined the lips together.
Hecate has kissed many, both immortal and mortal alike. Some for passion, others to curse, and even a select few to show her genuine affection.
None had ever made Hecate melt into the kiss like Harry. She could feel herself coming undone as their tongues danced, and she finally got the first taste of her truest desire. Harry’s lips coaxed her essence forth like a moth to a flame. For the briefest moment, Hecate allowed her divinity to bleed through the physical shell she wore. Two hands upon her chosen’s chest became six. One mouth nipping at his bottom lip was joined by two more as they sucked and bit and licked their way down his chest. Her body was more wisp of smoke than physical flesh—incense and burning sage—yet it still yielded under Harry’s touch. Wherever his hands wandered, the smoke would dissipate, returning to flesh once more for him to caress. When he took one of her nipples between his fingers, the moan she released reverberated out from three mouths instead of one, her three aspects harmonising their delight.
“Mmm~ I have forgotten how easily you come undone Hexacheira,” Aphrodite’s voice purred. Opening her eyes, Hecate could see that the goddess had indeed moved from her spot, face down on the bed, getting her ass fucked and instead now knelt behind Harry, the goddess’s arms wrapped languidly around the wizard’s chest while her pink eyes shone with lustful excitement.
“Is that so?” Hecate breathed, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared up at Harry. “It has only been a century or two since our night in France. Who was that delightful mortal girl you invited into bed with us?”
“Jeanne,” Aphrodite replied with a click of her tongue. “She was a priestess of mine. I blessed her with long-lasting beauty after that night, and an even longer-lasting sex drive. It was enough to earn her the attention of the French king a few years later. The court called her Marquise de Pompa-something or another,” Aphrodite waved dismissively.
Between them, Harry made a noise of disbelief.
“You two shagged Madame de Pompadour?” he asked, bewildered. A stark contrast to the rather compromising position they were all currently in. A position Hecate was reminded of when she felt something long and thick poke against her stomach. The goddess flicked her eyes down and smirked as she saw what exactly was pressed against her navel.
“I suppose we did,” she said with a breath of a laugh. “Though I doubt asking such questions is the last thing you’d wish to do with two beautiful, horny goddesses in your bed, my champion,” she murmured, her voice low like the first sweep of fog rolling over the grass as she reached down, ghosting the blackened tips of her fingers over his swollen cockhead.
Harry’s reaction was instant. His face hardened, that same intense look of hunger that made Hecate want to fall to the ground with her legs spread, returned. Hecate almost giggled like a foolish mortal girl when she felt his hands grip her by the hips before she was suddenly roughly pushed back against the soft mattress. Aphrodite was neck, the love goddess having no such qualms as Hecate. She squealed in delight as she was hauled up by Harry’s strong grip, giggling all the way down as she was thrown back onto the bed right next to Hecate.
The Wiccan goddess looked up, nearly gasping as she was met with the green fire burning behind her champion’s eyes.
Calloused hands rested against her thighs.
“Spread,” he said, the single word firm and for the first time since creation dawned, Hecate, the goddess of Witchcraft, found herself obeying the command of a mortal man.
Her legs opened, the toned inside of her thighs giving way to the sacred flesh of her divine womanhood. Harry’s eyes drank in the sight of her godly folds, his gaze enough to send a shiver up Hecate's spine as he feasted on the sight of her immortal pussy. Beside her, Aphrodite huffed out a laugh. Before the Wiccan goddess could react, the other immortal's hand was suddenly between her legs, the love deity’s manicured fingers spreading her sacred lips apart to reveal her bronzed pink insides.
“Come my love. Taste her,” Aphrodite purred, her mouth dipping down to lightly nip at Hecate’s jaw. “She’s simply divine.”
Hecate moaned softly as Aphrodite began to tease her clit with small circular movements of her fingers. Her golden eyes peered up at Harry, hazy and practically screaming her wants as she spread her legs all the wider.
Harry’s reply was a small smile as he leaned down. Hecate nearly gasped when his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh only a few inches from her core. It became even harder to hold back her breathless pants as he added his lips and tongue to the fray, kissing and licking his way up her godly flesh until, finally, he reached her already quivering centre.
“Please,” she whispered, her hips pushing outward on her own accord as the ghost of his breath washed over her cunt. Harry answered with a smirk.
“As my goddess commands.”
Hecate could not hope to contain her moan at his words. The devotion in his voice was enough to send her reeling, but the pleasure that followed? Hecate’s moan deepened, low and smokey as he slipped his tongue between her outer folds. Her fingers threaded through his hair as he traced his way up her dripping slit, flicking her swollen clit as he passed. The small noise she made at the teasing flick earned her a smirk from Harry before he dove back down.
His tongue returned to her sensitive nub, undulating slowly. The goddess gasped, her legs wobbling as they threatened to clamp down around his head from the torturous precision of his tongue. Beside her, Aphrodite chuckled low, the goddess’s own tongue tracing lazy patterns behind Hecate’s ear while her hands massaged the Wiccan goddess’s juicy breasts.
“He can be a devilish tease with his tongue, no?” the love deity murmured. “Just wait until he does–”
The goddess was interrupted as Hecate gasped and arched her back, her hips writhing as a low steady hissing sound emanated from between her thighs.
“–that,” Aphrodite giggled knowingly. She’s experienced the boons of Harry’s snake speech many times. The speed at which his tongue vibrated as he spoke Parseltongue had been the cause of some of the love goddess’s most devastating orgasms in recent history. Once she had even been forced to teleport away mid climax as Harry’s hissing tongue had forced her to lose control of her godly form, nearly incinerating her lover just because he had made her cum too hard. He still teased her about it to this day.
If the shimmering wisps of smoke trailing off of Hecate were any indication, then Aphrodite was sure the goddess of magic was experiencing that very same devastating pleasure that had almost made her lose control. Not one to be left out of the fun, the blonde goddess leaned down, taking one of the other goddess’s nipples into her mouth and sucking hard. A low, guttural moan spilt from Hecate’s lips. The wisps of smoke grew heavier, clouding Aphrodite’s vision as the goddess trembled beneath her. She could feel the arcane deity’s essence leaking out, gold spilling out from small cracks on the goddess’s flesh. A pair of ghostly hands tangled in Aphrodite’s hair just as another began to explore the sticky wetness of her divine cunt. Hecate was getting handsy, something that Aphrodite knew the goddess only did when she was close to tumbling over the edge.
Sure enough, the goddess gasped out not a moment later, her back arching even further into the air, pressing her breasts into Aphrodite’s face as she clutched desperately at Harry’s head. Harry allowed himself to be pulled further into the goddess’s leaking core, his tongue flicking back and forth at high speeds with loud hisses. Hecate shimpered and whined, her legs shaking as her orgasm raged before, without warning, she pushed the wizard away, her hands clutching her gushing cunt with a low groan.
“Σκατά,” she cursed, sinking back into the bed as the golden cracks in her skin disappeared.
“Indeed,” Aphrodite giggled and looked to where Harry was sitting up and wiping his chin. “But now I believe we need to ‘return the favour’ as the mortal say.” The love goddess purred low in the back of her throat, crawling forward on all fours as she approached her prey. Harry met her approach with a brush of his fingers against the goddess’s cheek, inviting Aphrodite closer as the goddess’s breath washed over his throbbing cock. Hecate watched as Aphrodite leaned forward and wrapped her plump, luscious lips around Harry’s thick member. The love goddess moaned, the sound muffled and kining as she began to rock back and forth on her knees, taking their lover’s cock deeper inside her diving throat with every bob of her head.
It was, admittedly, a breathtaking sight to watch Aphrodite at work. She was in her element, swallowing Harry’s spit-covered length with professional ease, leaving only red streaks of lipstick behind down the sides of his shaft. A light pink sheen radiated from her flesh, shimmering like glitter as the goddess’s power over her domain of pleasure was put on full display. Even Harry, impressive as he was for a mortal, could not hope to withstand such divine power. Within just a few moments, his own moans were joining the fray while his hips bucked and jerked every time Aphrodite swallowed him down to the base.
Just as it seemed as if the wizard would come undone, the love goddess suddenly pulled back and looked at her.
“Well? Don’t tell me a little eating pussy was enough to break you already, Ἑκάτη,” the goddess smirked, one hand wrapped around the base of Harry’s cock as the goddess crooked a single finger. “Come on.”
Hecate huffed but obeyed the love goddess’s commands, crawling forward on shaky legs. She lay on her stomach before Harry, propping herself up on her elbows as she took his cock from the other goddess with a small glare.
“Πουτάνα,” she sneered at the goddess.
“And a proud one too,” Aphrodite smirked. “Now. Suck.” she ordered, giving a hard slap to the witch-goddess’s ass.
Hecate hissed and opened her mouth to retort, but Harry—who was quite fed up with their back-and-forth bickering—silenced her by thrusting his kips forward and burying his cock halfway inside the black-haired goddess’s mouth. Hecate whimpered at the intrusion but took his cock obediently, opening her mouth wider to better accommodate his sizable shaft. While she was no Aphrodite, Hecate was still a goddess and thus had little to no trouble taking him fully into her mouth. She was even able to open her throat, allowing him to slide inside with shocking ease. Harry groaned above her as he hilted himself inside her velvety throat. Staring into his eyes, the goddess shook her head side to side, her petite nose rubbing in the short, curly hairs covering his groin before sealing her lips tightly around his base and dragging her full lips slowly up his shaft, sucking hard as her tongue massaged the underside of his cock. Reaching the tip, she stopped and moved back down, swallowing the entirety of his length once again.
“Fuck,” Harry groaned, his fingers tangling in her ebony coloured locks.
Hecate hummed in agreement, her already sensitive pussy absolutely throbbing at the sensation of her champion's cock in her mouth. Gods, how many times has she fantasised about this very moment? How many times has she imagined sucking his cock just like this as a reward for being the very best of her wizarding children? A giddy shiver found its way trailing down its spine as her fantasies finally began to come true.
The creaking of wood and a weight shifting behind her tore Hecate from her realisation as two slender hands sank into the soft flesh of her ass. The love goddess said nothing and Hecate was far too distracted by the cock between her lips to stop the Olympian’s machinations. She just waited patiently, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm as Aphrodite’s hands groped and kneaded her ass cheeks before grabbing them firmly and spreading them apart.
“MMM!” Hecate squealed in surprise, her eyes threatening roll back into her head as something wet and warm slithered between her asscheeks. The Wiccan goddess grabbed onto Harry’s thighs for support, inadvertently swallowing his cock down to the base inside her quivering throat as Aphrodite began to rim her asshole. She could practically feel her smug smirk as the love deity teased her puckered hole with her tongue. The other goddess’s fingers were also at work, two of them sliding in and out of Hecate’s burning hot pussy while another from the goddess’s other hand worked the witch-mother’s oversensitive clit.
Hecate whimpered. The only thing she could do was lie there and take the other goddess’s expert ministrations.
Well, that and one other thing.
Unhindered by the mortal need for air, Hecate busied herself with rocking her face back and forth against Harry’s groin. Her throat gripped him tightly, massaging every inch of his thick shaft as she all but grind fucked him with her mouth. Harry cursed loudly, his cock twitching erratically inside her gullet. He was close. Hecate could feel it. Not just physically, but magically as well. The taste of his magic seeped from his flesh, coating her tongue and filling every one of her senses with his unique magical signature. That more than anything fuelled Hecate’s desires on, the pleasure from Aphrodite becoming an afterthroat as she began to bob her head at inhumane speeds.
“Hecate– F–Fuck!” Harry gasped.
Hecate didn't wait another second. In a flash of torchfire, the goddess disappeared only to reappear almost instantly, now atop of Harry. The wizarding hero fell back against the mattress, his throbbing cock piercing the goddess’s soaking wet pussy just as he found his release.
“Θεοί!” Hecate gasped, her eyes flashing a bright gold as her divine cunt was suddenly filled to the brim with molten hot cum. She moaned with every pulse, her nails digging into Harry’s ribs hard enough to draw blood. Aphrodite had gotten her close to the edge, but the feeling of Harry’s cock throbbing with climax inside her was enough to send the goddess fully over the edge, a breathless moan spilling from her lips as her diving cunt gushed with climax.
“Tch—So greedy,” Aphrodite scoffed, appearing suddenly in front of Hecate in a puff of pink smoke. If Harry was bothered by the sudden weight of his pregnant lover and her naked pussy pressed against his chest, he did not say.
“Please,” Hecate scoffed. “Like you would not have done the same.” The Wiccan goddess smirked as she remembered her current position. Slowly, she began to rock her hips, Harry’s still hardened length moving inside her easily, even as his cum leaked from her cunt.
Aphrodite rolled her eyes and looked back at their lover. “Remind me to invite a more thankful goddess into our bed next time my sweet.”
“Next time?” Harry asked with a grunt, his hands busy groping the love goddess’s plump ass as Hecate began to speed up.
“Maybe,” Aphrodite replied with a mischievous smirk. The goddess shuffled her hips back until her cunt was poised above her lover’s face. “I may need some convincing.”
The love goddess giggled as he all but yanked her down by her thighs, his tongue immediately getting to work between her folds with inspired dedication.
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Author’s Note
Don’t worry! We’ll see more of Hecate/Aphrodite/Harry next chapter as well!
Translations:
Ἑκάτη - Another name for Hecate
Σκατά - Shit
Πουτάνα - Basically means Slut/Whore
Θεοί - Gods
Thanks for reading!