| DISCLAIMER:- The following 
        text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that 
        have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and 
        unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you 
        must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does 
        not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners 
        is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times. 
       
 Thanks to John Freer for most 
        of the nifty ideas for this story; the un-nifty ones are mine. Appalling gaps in Homer's classical education 
        <g
 heroically filled by Felix Lance Falkon and Allison George's Encarta
 encyclopedia. Artie pitched in with some proofing of an early version, 
        but
 is not responsible for remaining errors.
 Also, I have gotten some comments 
        from readers put off by some of the obscure references and the "menagerie" of Greek gods. Therefore 
        I have
 some explanatory notes at the end of the *'ed items.
 "Makin' Pagans" A frown darkened the clean face 
        of Apollo* as he strode purposefully toward the Throne Room of Olympus. He had serious business to discuss, but the
 excited snorts coming from the private chambers of the Father of Gods 
        and
 Men and the ecstatic squeal of a female coming to beat the lyre made his
 timing look inauspicious. Still, Zeus* was never one for long romantic
 interludes. Apollo sat down on a marble bench and waited, reviewing the
 parchments he carried.
 He was right. Ten minutes later 
        a disheveled Naiad* stumbled giggling from behind a curtain, a large, silly grin on her face and a larger dollop 
        of
 celestial goo running down her leg. Apollo uhummed, pushed aside the
 curtain, and walked in.
 "Come right in. Been expecting 
        you, my boy," the elder god boomed jovially, still adjusting the sash around his waist. "Now tell me, 
        what
 are these tidings that are so goddamned important?"
 "All Powerful, I have bad 
        news," the youthful-looking god replied. "I have the results of the latest surveys. We've got a Y2K problem -- the number
 of our worshippers is down for the 1999th year in a row."
 "Quite impossible, Ap. Why 
        the Delphic Oracle* told me just the other day . . . ."
 "Blast the *Delphic* Oracle! 
        I got these numbers from the Redwood Shores Oracle. Those silly priestesses of mine at Delphi have been sniffing gas
 for so long, it's amazing they have a synapse left among them. According
 to these projections, by January 1, 2000, we will have no worshipers at
 all. As it is, the few we have are mostly lunatics, no offense to
 Selene."*
 "And what's so bad about 
        with that?" Zeus grinned. "Do *you* enjoy sitting around hearing petitions from farmers wanting rain, sailors needing wind,
 and maidens pleading to get laid more often? Bloody nuisances these
 mortals, I say. And those sacrifices! Ye gads! I don't know how Demeter*
 and some of the others do it; they get away with gifts of oil or grain 
        or
 wine. Me? I have to put up with slaughtered cows, for Chrissake! Have
 you seen what they've done to my temple at Corinth? It's a damned
 abattoir, sinks to high heaven! No worshipers? Good riddance!
 Personally, I've got better things to do." A divine glance toward 
        a
 draped-off alcove and a soft feminine titter made Apollo want to roll 
        his
 eyes, but he forced himself to remain focused.
 "Zeus, this is serious. Do 
        you know that more people believe in the divinity of Celeste*, that two-bit reviewer of internet erotica, than
 believe in *you*?"
 For the first time Zeus began 
        to look concerned. Seeing he was at last making an impression, Apollo pressed his advantage, "Have you ever 
        heard of
 Woden?"*
 "'Wooden?'" Wouldn't 
        know," Zeus chuckled. Apollo grimaced at the older god's 
        pathetic attempt at humor. "Case closed," Apollo snapped. "Wodin was the head honcho of the Norse 
        pantheon.
 A couple of thousand years ago, he had dozens of gods and goddesses
 working for him up in Asgard*. Everybody in Ultima Thule* loved him for
 fighting off the Frost Giants. They even named Wednesday after him -- 
        for
 all the good it did him. Of course the Northern League never got any world
 class poets like Homer, Ovid and Virgil to write for them, so when their
 worshipers deserted for that Nazerean upstart, the whole mythology just
 evaporated - zippo, nada! Same thing could happen to us."
 "By Jove, this is serious" 
        the bearded figure exclaimed. "I've always known those mortals were Mercurial*, but this calls for action! It will 
        be
 a Herculean task, but we'll Martial* our forces."
 "Now you're talking, Great 
        One. You'd better stop fucking around long enough to do something or we'll all be fucking memories," Apollo 
        said,
 making a note to ask Celeste if he had just used a participle or a gerund.
 ***** If any mortals had been looking 
        up at the top of Mt. Olympus the next morning, they would have seen the clouds especially thick and dark.
 Hermes* had scurried all the previous afternoon and night to deliver Zeus's
 summons that all the gods appear for an emergency meeting of the Council.
 "Why the hell can't the get e-mail like everybody else!" thought 
        the tired
 fleet-footed Messenger of the Gods as he straggled back from the
 Underworld, having narrowly escaped being mauled by Cerberus - going AND
 coming.
 "Please turn down your auras 
        so we can all see better," Zeus requested as he gaveled the meeting to order. He watched as Apollo ran through a
 particularly effective Power Point presentation of the consultants' report,
 "Pagan Worship Longitudinal Survey - Diagnosis and Action Plan."
 "As I understand it the consultants 
        recommend a combination of a media campaign and grass-roots organizing. You all have the report. "I'd 
        like
 to open the floor to discussion," the Earth Shaker said
 "'Media campaign and grass-roots 
        organizing,' my ass!" Mars shouted angrily. "What we need to do is knock heads together. I've been saying
 for centuries that our great `father figure' is a wimp. Thunderbolt the
 damned unbelievers back to the Iron Age!"
 "Please excuse my excitable 
        nephew, but violence clearly is not the answer," Poseidon spoke up. "We want people to love and revere 
        us. My
 elder brother was wise to sign the ATL (Anti-Thunderbolt Launcher) treaty
 with the other pantheons. On the other hand, I have grave reservations
 abut the efficacy of the proposed strategy. Having people to go door to
 door handing out pamphlets as `Jove's Witnesses' is ludicrous."
 "I'm afraid I can't see TV 
        and radio spots having much effect, either," Athena added.
 "A clothing line called `Zeus 
        suits' is the silliest idea I've ever heard," chirped Persephone.
 "But what *can* we do? If 
        we don't get some new souls soon, my realm will be overgrown with underbrush!" exclaimed Pluto. "Why not one 
        Parisian
 couple in a thousand who have sex every year on the Champs Elysees knows
 what they're named for!"
 "If everyone is finished 
        whining and beating his breast ... " Every eye turned to the gorgeous Aphrodite and few were the gods or goddesses that
 didn't gape at the celestial figure whose divine mammaries inspired
 anything but beating. When she was sure everyone was paying attention, 
        the
 Goddess of Love stepped forward. "These are the lamest (no offense,
 Hephaestus, darling) ideas I have heard in a long time. `Media blitz,'
 `grass roots campaign?' Give me a break! Stunts like that may get us on
 the cover on Time and on talk radio for a week, but in two years, we'll 
        be
 right back where we are now. Worshipers learn to worship from their
 mothers. What we need is for pagan mothers have to start having more pagan
 babies."
 "But where will these pagan 
        mothers come from, if almost no pagans are left?" asked Athena, as always, trying to be the soul of reason.
 "Have you all forgotten? 
        There is one place on Earth where the Olympians are still worshiped -- Paradise Island," Aphrodite replied.
 "But the Amazons are all 
        virgin warriors who have nothing to do with men," said Mars proudly.
 "So far," Aphrodite 
        replied with a glint in her eye. "Maybe they've just lacked motivation. Look at how hot that Wonder Woman always is. Why, that
 bitch is so horny she comes like a freight train every time some villain
 ties her up and diddles her a little. I say, get those Amazons in the 
        mood
 and they'll be makin' pagans for us out the kazoo!"
 Although several of the gods and 
        goddesses took umbrage at the condescending attitude of Aphrodite toward her future worshipers, no one
 could come up with a better plan. Taking the sense of the meeting, Zeus
 decided to send Hermes to reason with the Amazons.
 "Now these are very prickly 
        females, Herm," Zeus advised later in his chambers. "Those girls have made not submitting to a man a point 
        of honor
 for over three millennia now. It may not be easy to convince them.
 "Don't worry, Zeus, baby. 
        I'll just use the Caduceus on them. When I wave this wand and speak, they'll do anything I say. I'll have them opening
 their legs faster than you can say Andromedea."
 Shortly, the Winged Messenger 
        of the Gods was flitting low over Paradise Island, looking for the Royal Palace. "I'll find Queen Hypolyte and 
        put
 her under my spell first," he chuckled to himself. "The rest 
        should fall
 easily enough,"
 <Thwump Suddenly the god felt himself 
        entangled in something and falling to earth. "Gaia, help!" he managed to plead as he fell and was glad that 
        the Earth
 goddess at least found a soft spongy patch for him to fall on.
 "Nice shot," Cybe. No 
        one's better with the bola that you." "Thanks, Noore. I guess the 
        Queen didn't put me in charge of air defense for nothing. Let's get the intruder tied up and take him to court,"
 replied the other young Amazon.
 A short frog march later the Messenger 
        of the Gods was standing ignominiously gagged and bound hand and foot before Queen Hypolyte and 
        her
 court.
 "Who are you and why have 
        you come to Paradise Island? No mortal can find this place and the Immortals know that no male is permitted here."
 The helpless god struggled, trying 
        to get them to remove the gag. Even without his Caduceus he hoped to be able to enthrall them.
 "Let him speak," ordered 
        the Queen, "But fill his mouth with pebbles first. I have hard that such visitors may seek to entrance us with soft words.
 If it was not too good for Demosthenes, it's not too good for him," 
        the
 Queen smirked.
 "Qoonn Hypoloto," Hermes 
        began awkwardly. "Tho Fothor of tho Gods Hos sont mo to groot yoo ond to thonk yoo for tho sorvosos thot yo ond yoor moghto
 ond volyont Omozons hov olwos rondord to both gods ond mon. Yoor fom, 
        yoor
 cooroj, yoor byooto or known. . . ."
 "Hermes, you stinker, I night 
        have known it was you. Knock off the speechmaking and cut to the chase," the Queen replied angrily.
 "Voro woll, Mo Qooon. Zoos 
        hos sont mo to osk o fovor of yoo, o fovor thot. . . . ." he swallowed as well as he could given the pebbles 
        in his
 mouth, chastened by Hypolyte's icy glare. "Tho Fothor of Gods ond 
        Mon
 noods, oll wo gods nood, mor worshopors. Yoo Omozons or proctocollo tho
 onlo boloovors wo Olompyons hov loft."
 "And whose fault is that?" 
        the Queen shot back. "What do you expect when your Fearless Leader goes around playing shenanigans like changing himself
 into a bull or a swan or Lord know what just to seduce some airhead maiden.
 If he had tended to the business of hurling thunderbolts and answering
 prayers, you guys wouldn't be in this fix."
 "Yoor Mojosto os no doobt 
        roght, bot ot's too lot for o longtho doognosos of tho problom. Wo nood mor worshopors soon or wo'll oll jost go `poof.'"
 "So you need more worshipers? 
        And just what do you want me and my Amazons to do about it?"
 "Wo wont to stort ovor. Wo'll 
        bo good gods, ottontov to tho noods of oor boloovors, strovong to ophold tho hoghost morol ond othocol stondords, 
        bot
 only wo nood now boloovors. Wo wont yoo ond tho othor Omozons to boor 
        ond
 roor o now gonoroshoon of pogons!"
 "Bite your tongue, bird foot!" 
        the Queen exclaimed, not realizing how difficult Hermes might find the exercise. "An Amazon bear a child?
 Unthinkable! That would mean to allow a male . . . ." the Queen exclaimed,
 shocked by the implications of what she had almost said.
 "I don't understand. What 
        would it mean?" inquired Drucilla, who had been giving Hermes the eye. Even tied up, he was kind of cute. Nice buns, she
 thought.
 "Woold tho yoong lodo lok 
        mo to domonstrot?" Hermes grinned. Hypolyte slapped him for his impudence.
 "Hey, Hypolyte, let him explain," 
        shouted another. Glaring at the bound god, Hypolyte 
        nodded her ascent. "Thonk yoo grocooos Qooon. 
        Lodoos, Zoos offors yoo tho opportonoto to bocom mothors, to know tho joy of holdong on onfont, to fool ots tony 
        lops
 on yoor broost, to gov tho goft of lof otsolf. Bot ovon moro wondorfol 
        os
 tho woo on whoch yoo woll consoov thos proshos goft," Hermes began.
 "Ot os oosy ond vory ploosont. 
        Yoor portnor woll tok yoo to o soclodod spot ond toll yoo how byotofol yoo or. how moch ho lovs yoor bodo. Ho 
        woll
 koss hos fovorot ports, yoor nock, yoor lops, yoor oos. Os ho tolks ond
 kossos yoo, ho woll froo yoor boobs from thor holtor ond bogon to fondl
 thom ontol thoo or hord. O gorontoo yoo'll lok thot. Whon ho bogons
 kossong ond sockong yoor tottoos, yoo'll fond yoor noppols gottong hord 
        ond
 yoo'll bo sorro yoo hovon't don thos bofor. Yoo'll bo onjoyong hos mooth
 on yoor booboos so woll, yoo proboblo won't ovon notos whon ho polls yoor
 toghts off, bot yoo'll sor notos whon ho slops o coopl of fongors onto 
        yoor
 droppong possy.
 The nervous god could see Hypolyte's 
        anger building, but most of the Amazons were rapt and the younger ones were fidgeting in their seats.
 "Yoo'll lov whot ho con do down thor, osposholly whon hos thomb fonds 
        yoor
 clot. Tho plorol of `clot,' BTW os `clotorodos,' on cos ony of yoo or
 locko enoogh to hov two," the god added parenthetically, recalling 
        a recent
 thread in ASSD.
 "Oftor ho gots yoo off sovorol 
        toms, frost worth hos fongors ond thon woth hos tong, yoo morlly roost on yoor bock - woll thor or lots of positions,
 bot moshonoro os bost for bogonnors - ond ollow yoor lovor to foll yoor
 snotch woth hos prock. Somotoms, ons os onoogh to knock you op, bot yoo'll
 proboblo wont hom to spond sovorol wooks ropotong tho prososs sovorol 
        toms
 o doo, jost to bo on tho sof s . . ."
 <SMMMAACK Hermes's speech was interrupted 
        by a slap far harder than Hypolyte's deliver by a large Amazon distinctively clad in red bustier and blue
 spangled tights. "Lying, foul-mouthed male!" Wonder Woman screamed.
 "It's not like that, at all, 
        my sisters. I've been into the World of Men and I've seen how it really is. Your `partner' will likely be drunk, have
 a three day's growth of beard and a big belly from swilling wine. His 
        idea
 of foreplay will be to tell you you've got great hooters and make a grab.
 As you try to fight the slob off, he'll rip your tights. If you're smart
 you'll knee him in the balls and send him slinking back to his cave. If
 not, he'll poke you with his prick, thrust it in a couple of times until
 her comes, and immediately go to sleep."
 "Oh, and our `divine messenger' 
        left out a few other things, too. Between the `poke and shoot' and the `little lips suckling at your breast' - yikes-
 come nine months of weight gain, nausea, waddling like a duck, tit's so 
        big
 you get back strain, and giving birth itself, which is no picnic."
 A commotion ensued in which the 
        younger Amazons, thought they'd like to accept the god's offer, or at least sample the demonstration, but the 
        Queen
 and the older warriors, led by Wonder Woman prevailed. Consequently it 
        was
 black and blue divine messenger that arrived back on Mt. Olympus to admit
 defeat.
 "I could have told you it 
        would be hopeless trying to reason with those frigid bitches," Aphrodite smirked. There's only one thing that can 
        make
 those sorry excuses for females spread those over-muscled legs: lust! 
        Let
 me care of this."
 A few hours later Aphrodite was 
        peering intently at a green monitor. The image was being relayed from Cupid's AAACP (Amorous Air Attack
 Communications Package) as the little god hovered a safe distance off 
        the
 coast of Paradise Island. She smiled as the image from the laser-guided
 cruise arrow grew, showing first the island, then a rocky cleft and finally
 a spring of water gushing from the hillside, before the screen blanked 
        on
 impact. "Bull's eye!" Aphrodite exclaimed. "When they start 
        drinking from
 this spring, the fun will begin."
 **** If Queen Hypolyte thought things 
        would get back to normal after she sent that obscene messenger of the gods packing, she was wrong. She was quite
 upset at how close the younger Amazons had come to falling for Hermes's
 pitch. Too much youthful energy, she decided and the ordered monthly
 combat training sessions increased to three times a week. Of course she
 did not know about the proximity of a certain spring to the training
 grounds.
 Things went from bad to worse. 
        At first, the drill sergeants merely reporting that every time their backs were turned, their changes had there
 fingers in their cunts. And back in barracks, no matter how hard they
 tried, their officers could not prevent the girls going down on each other
 every night. The Queen ordered even more intense drills and harder work
 and was pleased she heard several weeks later that the troops were going
 out on maneuvers every day. Deciding to ride out to see this improvement
 for herself, she was shocked to find the training grounds empty but the
 nearly groves filled with rutting females, with each sergeant having at
 least two recruits between her legs.
 ***** "Hephaestus honey, I'm home!" 
        Aphrodite tinkled. She spent a long day answering a last minute prayer of Allison George, whose fianc,, shocked 
        to
 learn that his bride-to-be sometimes went to work without panties, seemed
 to be getting cold feet about the wedding. It had been a total success,
 but the way she left the happy couple had her horny as hell. The Goddess
 of Love was looking forward to a nice pounding from her hunky husband. 
        She
 was so hot, she decided not even to make him shower first. As usual, she
 found him at the forge.
 "What are you working on, 
        Sweetie? she asked slipping her arm around his hard sweaty body. The strong masculine smell made her as wet as he was.
 "Hi, Aph," Hephaestus 
        replied, accepting a passionate kiss from his hot-to trot wife. "Big order came in today. Something's going on up at Paradise
 Island; about time, too. Queen Hypolyte has asked me to ship her 5,000
 vibrators with rechargeable batteries ASAP."
 "Vibrators?" Aphrodite 
        inquired, beaming. "Something's got into those 
        frigid bitches up there, or soon will," he said holding up a round thick prototype. "Want to try it?
 "I'd rather have the creator 
        than the creation," the goddess cooed, reaching between her husband's legs for the source of his inspiration.
 Suddenly she stopped. "Honey, could you do me a favor?
 "Anything for you babe," 
        he said starting to fondle those classic boobs. "Fix those vibrators to shut 
        off just before the user comes." "But that will leave all 
        the Amazons horny as skunks," "Just like I am right now. 
        Now take me to couch and fuck me, you stud!" ***** Being from the royal family, Drucilla 
        was not, to her dismay, able to participate in the strange things she had heard of going on among the
 troops. In fact, she was seldom allowed to leave the extensive palace
 grounds. One day, however, as she walked far from the palace in the royal
 pastures, she came upon a very handsome steer. "Pretty cow," 
        she said and
 began to pat it. The steer responded by starting to nuzzling her boobs.
 "Naughty cow!" she laughed. "No! Uuh No! Ahh That feels 
        good. Don't
 pus . . .Ooops!"
 Before she knew it, the young 
        Amazon was on her back and the steer was licking her between her legs. "Stop! OUUU! Oh, god! Oh no. I'm getting
 fucked by a COW! This is so wrong!"
 Then, before her eyes and between 
        her spayed legs, Drucilla saw a golden mist envelope the steer and in its place knelt a bearded god of indefinite
 age. "You are so right, my dear, but as the Italians will say, `Quod 
        licit
 Jovi, non licit bovi,' Zeus pontificated and slid his divinely engorged
 cock into the helpless girl's waiting pussy.
 A few hours later Drucilla was 
        awaking from a nice post-orgasmic nap and found herself looking up into a now-familiar bearded face. "Oh my 
        God!"
 she sighed. "That was sooo kewl"
 "Thank you my dear, but you 
        needn't be so formal. Call me Zeusie." "Wow, I just feel so full 
        of ." "'Zeus juice'" the god 
        replied proudly. "This must be what that funny 
        captive god was talking about a few week ago. Does this mean . I'm ...
 "No, no, my dear. That's 
        the reason I was licking you so intently, to be sure you were NOT fertile right now. The last thing we need is more
 dimi-gods. They tend to set up their own cults, split the worshiper base
 even more. Some, like the ungrateful son of mine, Hercules, even get their
 own TV shows, movie contracts, and web pages!"
 "So, I don't understand." "Drucilla, this is not the 
        time for a talk about the aves et apes. Now if you'd like to find another handsome steer next week, why don't you be 
        a
 good girl and take Queen Hypolyte a nice fresh pitcher of water from the
 spring where you girls drink during practice."
 "Anything for you, Zeusie, 
        baby!" the horny young Amazon squealed and pounced on the bemused god, delaying his departure for Mt. Olympus by
 another half day. When she awoke the next time she was alone but there 
        was
 note lying on a folded garment.
 Dru, my huggable heifer, I won't be needing this again; 
        keep it to remember me by until our next tryst. Be sure to wear it when you visit Hypolyte.
 Love,Zeus the Bruce
 "No! He is sooo sweet!" 
        the happy girl exclaimed, "Just what I wanted," she exclaimed as she held the gift up admiringly. "A Chicago Bulls 
        play
 jersey." Even as she examined her divine lover's keepsake, her eyes 
        grew
 large and an idea dawned. "Of course! Anybody should have know Michael
 Jordan wasn't really mortal!"
 ****"OK, Aphrodite. I pulled the old heifer-in-the-pasture routine on 
        her.
 Amazing, how even after Europa, women keep falling for that one! I
 understand telling her to take the pitcher of water, but what's with the
 play jersey.
 "Daddy, don't you remember 
        back in the Trojan War when Hera wanted to distract you so she could help the Trojans. She came on to you that night
 all tarted up and got your so hot all you could do was fuck her for days?"
 "Don't I? While she was fucking 
        my brains out, the Greeks almost lost the damn war. And it was all because of that damned magic .."
 "That's right, Daddy. The 
        play jersey is really my magic girdle that makes the wearer irresistibly attractive."
 "So when Drucilla visits 
        Hypolyte ." "She'll be very persuasive." **** "No, Dru, baby. Don't do 
        this to Mommy. Noooo! "Why not, Mommy?" Dru 
        asked slyly looking up from between the Queen's plump legs "You like it don't you?" she asked resuming her careful 
        eating of the
 royal snatch.
 "Oh, yes, baby, but we shouldn't 
        .Oohhh. I just . just . want" "Want to come, Mommy?" "Yessss! Please, baby" "And you promise to invite 
        Mr. Hermes back?" "No, Dru. He'll . NO don't 
        just stop like that!" "When you say he can come, 
        you can" "No! . Nooooo, . YESSSSSSS!" For the next few hours Paradise 
        Island was filled with the sounds of a Bacchanalia of lezzie love.
 **** A smiling and unbound Hermes was 
        standing before the assembled Amazons. "Queen Hypolyte, Princesses, Strategeons, Amazon Warriors, Ladies. 
        I am
 delighted to accept this kind return invitation from you, gracious Queen
 Hypolyte, to allow me to renew the petition from our Father Zeus. The
 scarves are a token of our esteem; they are from my own shop," Hermes
 pointed out proudly. A titter of ohhs and ahhs rippled trough the
 gathering.
 "We are indeed at a turning 
        point in the relations between gods and men. You Amazons are now called upon to step forward, to go into the world 
        of
 men and willingly to submit, to give your selves. This will not be easy,
 we know. You will have to leave aside your armor and doll yourselves up
 like the babymakers you are to become ."
 Hermes realized that something 
        was not going right with is speech. The women who had seemed receptive at first had begun to scowl. Nervously 
        he
 continued. "Only in seeming weakness can you find true strength. 
        Only by
 lowering yourselves ." The buzz angry whispers and the ominous pounding 
        of
 the floor with Amazon spears interrupted the god.
 "For Crissake shut up, Hermes!" 
        Aphrodite boomed striding onto the dais. "Stupid male!' she grumbled. "It isn't that way at all, girls. 
        Yes, we
 want you to fuck, fuck like bunny rabbits. We need kids, lots of kids.
 Pop one out every year if you can. But don't take any of that `submit'
 crap. You've got the best, the tightest, the hottest pussies of any group
 of females on the planet. And you can say when, where, how often and by
 whom they get filled. Males will do anything to dip their wicks in your
 hot boxes. You can have all the sex you want, from as many men as you
 want, on your terms! Believe me, ladies, on Olympus, there isn't a
 thunderbolt hurled, a storm whipped up, or a foolish maiden turned into 
        an
 oak tree that isn't cleared with ME. Gods think with the same organ men
 do. Fuck'em good enough and they'll do anything you say."
 To cheers and shouts of "Alright!" 
        and "Go get'em" the Amazons rushed to the APCs (Amorous Personnel Craft) Poseidon had standing by to take them
 to:
 **** Bamini: "Winter Meeting of the USSA 
        (United States Superhero Association)" proclaimed the banner outside the luxury hotel. Inside a serious gathering
 was underway to discuss strategies against supervilians, workshops on
 protecting secret identities, a seminar on cooperation between DC and
 Marvel superheroes, etc. Serious, yes, but truth be told, at night some 
        of
 the younger superheroes were out trolling for a little island poon tang.
 Suddenly, in the middle of the 
        keynote address, Superboy's paper "Red Kryptonite Mitigation and Recovery Strategies," all Hades broke loose.
 Scores of sex-crazed Amazons burst in and launched themselves on every 
        poor
 unsuspecting superhero in sight <big crocodile tear amid anguished 
        cries!
 "Look at that crotch!" "I'm getting me one of those!" "Oh my god, it's soooo big!" "Let go of him you hussy! 
        This one's mine. I saw him first!" Soon red, blue yellow, and green 
        spandex was flying through the air as the horny Amazons began fighting over the hapless superheroes. "Apollo, 
        we
 have a problem," the god mused to himself. Trouble was, there were 
        far
 more Amazons than superheroes. There weren't nearly enough men to go
 around <bigger crocodile tear. Realizing if he didn't act fast, the
 overheated women would tear the superheroes limb from limb, Apollo signaled
 to Orpheus to touch his magic lyre. Instantly calm prevailed.
 "Ladies, please! I appreciate 
        that you are eager to get started on your, er, task, but there is no need for disorder," Athena injected. "Remember
 these are superheroes, so they do not suffer the . er, . , hum .
 limitations that ordinary mortal men do. I think you will find that with 
        a
 little forbearance, you can work out a cooperative relationship that leaves
 everyone satisfied."
 With some effort, the Goddess 
        of Reason was able to convince the rambunctious Amazons that a group of four or five women could share a
 superhero. Queen Hypolyte and the more important members of her court
 chose Superman. Other senior Amazons were assigned old line heroes such 
        as
 Captain Marvel. A cohort led by Wonder Woman got Batman. The more
 adventurous Amazons went for Green Lantern, Aquaman and the Hulk. A kinky
 bunch chose Plasticman. A clutch of horny young Amazons latched onto
 younger heroes - Drucilla's squadron, for example took home Superboy;
 others scarfed up Captain Marvel Jr. and Robin.
 Needless to say, a gaggle of hot-to-trot 
        Amazons soon reconciled its superhero to giving up his former life, as he discovered his domestic
 obligations to service his perpetually horny wives left him little energy
 for crimefighting and was a lot more fun, anyway. Wives? Of course! The
 confection of Lucinda's and Allison's wedding dresses had to be postponed
 as seamstresses all over the globe were deluged by orders for wedding 
        gowns
 cut to 44-28-44 figures and up. Hephaestus was up for nights turning out
 thousands of wedding bands. The Rev. Sun Young Moon himself couldn't have
 been prouder than Zeus who presided over the mass ceremony in the packed
 Great Hall on Olympus. Surrounded by a group of eager brides, each
 quavering superhero swore an unbreakable oath by the River Stix, "I 
        do, I
 do, I do, I do, ." before being taken home where a clutch of horny 
        women
 made sure he did, and did, and did and did."
 There was just one problem that 
        not even Athena had considered. After living together for 3000 years all the Amazons' fertility cycles had become
 synchronized. About two months after the happy Amazons rushed home with
 their treasures, an epidemic of morning sickness swept over Paradise
 Island.
 Soon every flat Amazon tummy on 
        the island was bulging and bulging. Things only got cranked up a notch when the women discovered that the water spiked
 by Cupid's arrows had made them not only super horny, but super fertile, 
        as
 well. Every happy mommy-to-be found she was going to give birth to three,
 or four, or even five babies. Fortunately, the superheros were Men of 
        the
 Millennium. Lamaze classes gave way to hectic hours of coaching their
 wives in simultaneous labor. All too soon the joy of delivering their 
        own
 babies was over and the costumed super-daddies were running ragged,
 changing diapers, burping infants, and trying to sing scores of little
 brats to sleep, while still having to satisfy the raging sexual appetites
 of their wives.
 But, hey, what are super powers 
        for, anyway, except to be used! Each superhero had to solve this problem in his on way. Superman,
 super-conscientious of course, rushed around at super speed from sprong 
        to
 screaming sprong. Spiderman slung the babies on a kind of conveyor belt 
        so
 he could swing each little bottom into place as soon as it needed
 freshening. Batman tried to hang his babies from the wall until his wives
 saw that he was hopeless and brought in Alfred to handle the chores.
 Aquaman suggested enlisting the help of several faithful octopi (hissuns
 could breath under water), but his wives were suspicious that he just
 wanted an excuse to get away with his less demanding mermaid
 ex-girlfriends. Anyway, they refused to separated from their quints.
 With all it's superheroes out 
        of commission, what will the world come to? Will the likes of Lex Luthor, Joker, and Savanna overrun the world?
 Fortunately, no. Cupid has been at work on the supervilianesses, too, 
        who
 crashed the Supervillian's Annual Retreat and Workshop, so all the bad 
        boys
 are also too busy being daddies to a new crop of evil henchmen to cause
 much trouble.
 The End
 Notes: Apollo: Handsome (think museum 
        statue) son of Zeus and Hera, god of the Sun. He drives the chariot of the Sun across the sky each day.
 Zeus: Equivalent to the Roman 
        Jupiter or Jove. Lots of stories about him chasing and knocking up mortal women. Hercules (Hercules) is one such
 demi-god.
 Hermes: The messenger of the gods. 
        (Roman name Mercury) Flies with winged sandals by Nike, goddess of victory (just kidding!). He carries the
 Caduceus, the serpent-entwined magic wand, symbol of prescription drugs.
 Aphrodite: "Venus" Zeus's 
        daughter (in one version). Goddess of Love (not marriage, not children just LOVE.)
 Hera: Zeus's jealous wife. She 
        is goddess of marriage and the home and rival of Aphrodite. Bears a grudge, as does Athena, agaist Aprhodite
 because the Trojan (not the brand of condom) Paris (not the city) chose
 Aphrodite over her in a celestial beauty contest. Paris's prize was Helen
 and when he took her home, the Trojan war broke out. Please see Homer's
 "Iliad" for more details.
 Hephaestus: Ahphrodite's husband, 
        equivalent of Vulcan. He is the blacksmith/weapon maker for the gods. He was punished for something by
 being made lame.
 Selene: Goddess of the moon. "Aves et apes" birds 
        and bees (in Latin) "Quod licit Jovi, not licit 
        bovi." What is permissible for Jove is not permissible for the cow." (Latin saying.)
 Delphic Oracle: The priestess 
        of Apollo's shrine at Delphi went down into a cave (presumably smelling vapors coming up from the Underworld) and
 prophesied the future.
 Hades: God of the Underworld, 
        brother to Zeus. (Also the place) Both good and evil persons went to Hades. Good folks, especially heroes, go 
        the
 Elysian Fields (Champs Elysees in French)
 Cerberus: The three headed dog 
        that guarded the gates of Hades Demeter: Goddess of grain and 
        harvests, equivalent to Ceres (cereals? Get it?) Her daughter Persephone was abducted by Hades and lives with 
        him
 as his wife for six months of the year, making Demeter sad and so no crops
 grow in winter.
 Asgard: Home of the Norse gods, 
        like Olympus for the Greeks. Athena: Goddess of reason. Patron 
        of Athens Poseidon: Another of Zeus's brother, 
        God of the Sea. Celeste: Goddess and former <sigh 
        reviewer of ASS stories. Woden: (Oden) Equivalent of Zeus 
        in Norse mythology. Wednesday (Woden's day) is derived from his name
 Mars: Roman god of war. (Zeus 
        slipped up) Naiad: A water sprite. Ovid: Latin poet, retold lots 
        of gods and goddesses stories in Metamorphose Virgil: Latin Poet, author of 
        Aeneid, a "sequel" to Iliad and Oddessy telling of the flight of Aeneus from Troy and aided by Venus, founding 
        of
 Rome.
 Homer wrote Iliad the story of 
        the Trojan war between the Greeks and Illium (Paris was a prince of Illium = Troy) and the Oddessy, the story of the
 journey home of Ulysses (Oddesses).
 Ultima Thule: The far far north. 
 
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