Tales of Heranes: The Lady Hercules (just don't call her that)

So sort of my first venture into maybe marketing this stuff beyond individual commissions. It came up during the last story about Wonder Woman doing trials that I had forgotten since high school about the labors of Hercules, and even then I tended to skim over the legend stuff for the cool monsters. I've grown to like the epic as a story type, and I immediately thought there could or should be a sexed up version of  a female Hercules (besides Xena). So I brewed up some ideas, took some suggestions from a thread on freecatfights and threw this together in about a week of planning and spontaneous writing. Posting these first 2 or the 12 trials here, but when I get it done, I think I'll be posting the full story as an Amazon book or some other means of pay for full thing. We'll see how it goes, but I'll let y'all know either way through here



Heranes was a bitter kind of woman, even as far as the Greek heroes went. She was born a demigoddess, and to the queen of the gods herself. She bore her name in her honor, but to be fair, the gods weren't great people themselves. Hera was constantly jealous of Zeus' lechery, cheating on Hera and causing trouble. She had given birth to Heranes as an attempt to make the king of the gods jealous, but when that failed, she left the demigoddess babe to the world of mortals. She was taken in by farmers, even as a little girl, her moody nature was overlooked in exchange for her massive strength that helped the farm to thrive. Soon slaughtering cattle with her bare hands, reaping entire fields of wheat, and brawls in the city bar weren't enough for their little girl, and she went off to travel the world while her foster parents were able to live to a ripe old age off of the profits she gave them alone.

Heranes didn't have to go far to figure out where she had come from. The family resemblance was there, and people couldn't help but compare her feats of strength and endurance to that of the amazing demigod turned god, Hercules... and that annoyed the piss out of her. Having a half-brother like Hercules would be enough to stir up envy in anyone, and a jealous and angry goddess' spawn would be no exception. Heranes finally marched to the nearest temple of Hera, kicked down the door, and demanded to know how she could achieve godhood "like my lazy jackass of a brother."

Hera was quick to reply, between the desecration and the presence of her own mighty blood. After much discussion and a little shouting on both of their parts, Hera's divine voice proposed her plan to give Heranes her position on Olympus, and to show off that good for nothing husband of hers and his bastard son.

"What?! Hades no! King Palthas is a crooked ruler and a decrepit old pervert!" Heranes blurted in reply. She had her mother's flowing red hair and well-tanned skin, and wore a loose toga that ended in a skirt just above her knees. For a wandering warrior, she wore no breast plate and carried no shield. The armor broke easier than her flesh did, and it was hard to find one that fit the muscular but feminine (i.e. busty) twenty-something’s figure. It was all cloth togas and leather sandals for her.

"Precisely," Hera explained. "If you can show off a sexist, spoiled shit like him, you'll strike a blow for women and goddesses alike. Literally, I mean. Like, punch him in the face when you're done with them."

"But twelve!? ANY twelve things he asks!? You KNOW what he'll ask me to do!"

"First of all, Hercules did ten. We're two up on him this way. That'll show him..."

"No, he did twelve! I heard the stories! The stag, the boar, the lion..."

"He did ten. Ask anyone. And half of those didn't really count because he had help. Two of those were do-overs. And as far as Palthas, he wouldn't dare ask it of you. These have to be feats, not favors. Besides, at his age, you'd snap him in half before he could finish."

"Wouldn't even have to try," Heranes grumbled. "Have you seen this ass? He wouldn't even know what to do with it."

"I have," Hera responded grimly. "And I'm not sure I like you flaunting it like that. You're my daughter, after all."

"You threw me off a mountain, 'mom.' Big thanks for that, by the way."

"Oh, you survived. Don't be such a baby."

"I was LITERALLY a baby, mom!"

"Look, that's the best I've got, and I'm a goddess AND a queen! What else do you want?"

Heranes grunted and folded her arms across her breasts. "Alright, fine. Twelve and I'm done. But none of those 'do-over' craps. And I'm not getting help. If this doesn't work, then I'm climbing up there and braining all of you with a rock."

Hera sighed slightly. "You sound just like your step-father when you talk like that."

"Then dad sounds like a bitch." The women laughed at the joke before Heranes turned to hike her way to the kingdom of Daran.



For all her sass, Heranes' claims about King Palthas were pretty much on the nose. The half-blind king with his long white beard still grinned as his blurry eyes ran over the fit and feminine figure of the heroine.

"It's a pleasure to see you. I heard much from our prophets of Hera," grinned the ancient king.

"Yea, she can really ramble on, huh?" Heranes said with a roll of her eyes. "Imaging being her daughter. Now come on. You heard the rules right? Twelve trials. You got like a... checklist or something so I can just pump these out in a day?"

Palthas' smiled widened. "Oh, I heard all about it. Twelve feats only possible to the might of a god."

"Or goddess," Heranes cut in quickly. She really wasn't as much of a feminist as people made her out to be, but all she asked was that they at least consider it in the presence of a woman who could throw a house at you.

"Right. Well, what king am I to refuse the generosity of aid from Hera's own blood, eh? I have a trial all ready and waiting for you, my dear."

"It's Heranes."

"Yes, of course it is," he dismissed. "Your first task will be to clear the bandits from the northern plains."

Heranes snorted. "That's it? She asks for godly feats and you give her bandits? Fine by me."

"Not just any bandits," Palthas corrected. "These territories have been held by their clan for so long that armies have yet to clear them out. Her grasp on the land changes the very courses of trade routes. It is why she is called Deska the Bandit Queen."

"Cute. I'll go bust up your princess then. That should solve it, right?"

"You'll also be taking this." Palthas grabbed a shiny gold pendant from the arm of his throne, tossing it down to her. The buff Greek caught it neatly in one hand, giving it a casual glance. "It was enchanted specially for you. Even these old eyes will be able to see like a hawk through its lens. What better way to report all your successes to your mother?"

Heranes held it by the chain and looked it over again. The shiny blue gemstone in its front seemed to match what he was talking about. She shrugged and whipped the chain around her wrists, yanking it on like a bracelet. "Fine. Not like I was going to sneak off on you anyway. You can only throw a cow or punch out an entire bar so many times before it gets dull." King Palthas frowned a little, hoping that she would have put it on her neck and hung the mystic eye in between her impressive breasts. "So yea. Bandits. North. Queen. Got it."



Trial 1: clear the raiders from the lands of Deska the Bandit Queen
It was a long march for most people to reach the lands of the bandit queen, but at a brisk jog, Heranes made it by the afternoon. As she trotted down the road, she stopped by a scruffy man on a horse. "Hey, you!" she called as she padded to a stop. "You know where Deska lives around here?"

"Funny you should ask," he grinned, producing his bow and aiming it at her. Heranes looked nonplussed at him as the bandit kicked the rope towards her from the back of his horse. "She'll pay good for a pretty one like you. You're going to see her."

Heranes sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yea. I am." She ducked towards him quickly, getting under his line of sight as she dipped under his horse. He turned to aim at the other side, but she never came out. Heranes lifted up the horse by shouldering it like it and its rider were a sack of potatoes. The horse screamed and kicked, and the archer still couldn't get a shot.
"Which way did you say again?!" Heranes called over the shrieks of the horse. She shook it by the saddle, knocking the man to the ground and stomping a scandal menacingly onto his chest.
"EAST! STRAIGHT EAST!" he blurted before she had the chance to crush him, or worse drop his horse on him like a stone. "The fort is right there! You can't miss it!"

Heranes smiled warmly back at him, kicking him the rope. "Thanks. I'll give the queen your regards. Now tie it." The man hesitated, but realized his bow had landed a few yards away and his attacker had her horse raised like she might throw it. He hurriedly wrapped it around his wrists as best she could, Heranes tossing him back onto his horses back, turning him the other direction, and smacking it on the ass to send it speeding on its way, bouncing the bandit along on its back.

"Well this is promising," Heranes smiled, starting off on her jog once more. Sure enough, there was a looming fortress made of felled trees and turned into great, spike-tipped logs. It was once a simple bandit camp, but as their power and numbers grew, so did their headquarters. Now it was as King Palthas said; they were practically a kingdom of their own, controlling whatever happened in their turf.

Heranes kicked doors in and off their hinges in one shot. This was no small feat, since they were about twenty feet tall and had withstood battering rams in the past. They flew in and smashed a handful of the bandits before she even set eyes on them, looking around the large but simple wooden fort. A few fires going for cooking, some unfortunate-looking sorts off on the sides doing laundry or other demeaning work, and lots of startled men and women with swords.

"Hey," Heranes greeted with a slightly crooked but winning smile. "Where's the queen?"

A pair of wild-eyed women with knives rushed at her, the closest to Heranes' position. She sidestepped the first one's blade, kicking the legs out from under her and letting her land in the dirt floor. She palmed the others' head, squeezing enough for her to squeal and stop thrashing. She lifted them both up to clunk their heads together, letting them go limp. Finally she grabbed their leather-armored skirts, flipping them over and with a sharp tear of each super strong hand, destroyed the armor and left them both naked in a heap at her feet.

Heranes held open her arms invitingly. "I make my point? Now where's Deska?" A number of the raiders ran on the spot, but most of them simply fell into combat positions. Several went for weapons or cover, while the archers from the high grounds turned around to aim their crossbows inside the fort rather than out. Heranes sighed and grabbed one of the larger pieces of the door, big enough for someone to use as a boat. She dove back and raised it as an improvised shield, letting the bolts bury into the wood instead of herself. The best they could manage was to fill the board with arrows, almost doubling its weight before one of the last ricocheted off the dozens of other shots, poking a hole in the heroine's scandal.

"REALLY?!" she cursed to herself. "I just got... okay, now I'm pissed." Heranes gave a shake of the lump of wood, rattling most of the arrows loose before she flung it like a discus. It smashed into the watch tower next to the archers, pelting them with an explosion of wood chips and debris as they leapt for cover and abandoned their posts, shrieking in fear. Deska's loyalists charged, and mostly women as far as Heranes could tell. It had been part of Deska's recruitment method to gather as many female underlings and bandits as she could. They were given fewer opportunities in this age, and so would be that much more grateful and loyal for the entry into her army of outlaws.

Heranes caught an incoming mace by the handle, kneeing its owner in the groin. The attacking bandit quickly fell to her knees, just for the Greek brute to kick her in the chest and send her flying back into some of her comrades. One more jumped onto Heranes' shoulders from a walkway above, wrapping her arms around her neck. Heranes grunted, but grabbed her by the leg and swung her around, clunking her head against the nearest robber's skull to put them both out. A heavyset bandit, towering at over six feet tall, barged past her fellow raiders, brandishing a heavy axe. This at least got Heranes' attention, grabbing one more bandit by the hair and chucking her off over the fence. The giant bandit screamed and swung for Heranes, but she caught the axe by flat center of its head, twisting to one side. The big woman paled a moment, then tried to run for it. Heranes caught her by the back of her pants and yanked up on her underwear, getting a panicked shriek as she lifted the hefty woman off the ground by them.

"Would you stupid bitches get off of her before she kills the bloody lot of you!?" barked a high, angry voice. The raiders stopped their fruitless attack and Heranes looked up at the source. There was a scowling woman with big, bushy red hair running down her back. She wore a green, studded loincloth and similarly dyed breastplate, though it served about as much cover as an armored bra and panties from Heranes' point of view. She could respect that, even if it seemed a lot less smart when you were properly mortal. She had a tightly-fastened, brown leather eyepatch, and big freckles over her tiny nose and big bosoms. What looked to be a long scimitar was sheathed on her belt.

The climbed down from some room built into the further reaches of the camp, taking a big drink from a class jug. She waved the jug at Heranes before she bothered with the sword, her voice either slurring from the drink or just a part of her exotic accent. "And would ya put Deande down, ya big oaf?"

"She started it," Heranes grumbled before dropping the fat woman by her stretched out panties. "You the bandit queen?"

"Deska," corrected Deska. "In the fort, it's just Deska. Why? What'd I do to ye?"

Heranes' shrugged. "You annoyed some king I owe a bunch of favors to so I can become a goddess."


Deska squinted at her, then looked to her bottle, then back at her. "Really now?"

"Pretty much. I'm skipping a lot of boring parts. Mostly when I was an angsty teen wondering about my 'real mom,' and learned the meaning of... yea, see?" She made a spiraling motion with her fingers. "Boring parts. Point is, I have to break up your whole bandit kingdom thing."

"Well... no."

"No?" Heranes repeated, raising her eyebrow."

"Aye. No."

"Ohhhh, Hades' balls," Heranes groaned, running a hand through her hair as the two started to approach each other. "I really hate it when people tell me no. I do not deal well with rejection, missy."

Deska drew her wide sword and gestured at the partly ruined camp. "So join me. Be an outlaw. Ferget that mess and live like a queen."

Heranes smirked and cracked her neck. "Queens are for people who settle. I'm becoming a goddess."

The heroine threw a punch at Deska, who proved to be the only one so far quick enough to block it. She raised the flat of her blade rather skillfully, stopping the fist short. The impact rang through her blade and it numbed the bandit queen's hands, but she stayed standing, which was more than what most people punched by Heranes (blocked or not) could say.

Deska took a few brisk steps back, whirling her blade as Heranes ducked back away from its tip. "Not bad," Heranes had to admit. "You're basically at a record right now. Good sword swinging, too."

"It's called swordplay," Daeska corrected curtly. "Used to be a pirate before I crashed on this great and silly rock and picked up the pieces with the locals."

"Funny story. Don't care," Heranes said with a bright smile. She grabbed for Deska, but she danced back a few paces and swept her sword through the nearest campfire. The ashes kicked up into Heranes' face, getting her to yelp and rub at her eyes. She felt Deska kick her in the stomach, grunting but figuring what was coming next. She threw up a hand and caught the queen by her wrist, throwing her over her shoulder and crashing into a table. Deska groaned as she rolled off the table, running a hand through her hair as the various bits of food and drink stuck to her mane.

"Caught ye flinchin'," she grinned confidently at the brute of a heroine.

Heranes held up a wide jug by its chord. "Caught your drink."

Deska patted her hip, realizing what she had done. "Ohh, now ya gone and done it."

Deska came at her again, whipping the blade in a great flurry of steel. Heranes backed away, having fought enough people with swords before to know that they hurt. Not as awful on her as they were for normal people, but still tended to be a mess of blood and hurt all the same. It was at least not a big deal enough that  when the blade ticked against her toga's shoulder, popping one of her big round breasts out into the air, she didn't break a sweat. When her back hit the wall of the fortress, Deska's woman shouting and cheering her on, Heranes grabbed the nearest pillar and pushed it into the way of her incoming sword. The blade buried into the wooden pillar instead of her flesh, Heranes giving a proud laugh at her quick thinking and superior strength.

Heranes didn't consider all she damage she'd done to the structure so far, and the catwalk and a few lesser walls suddenly collapsing on top of her. After a great mess and clattering, she pushed her way back out of the rubble, coughing and dusting herself off. She was only up to her shoulders in the fresh air when Deska poured some of her booze over her head, getting a laugh from the crowd of thieves. "Some on me, ye big dumb beauty," she grinned before kicking Heranes in the teeth. She grunted, but shoved her way out of the rubble. Deska reclaimed her sword, just for Heranes to swing an entire tree's worth of a log to smack it out of her hands unless she risked losing her hand with it.

Heranes threw the log like a javelin at her, the red headed bandit throwing herself onto her belly to avoid being impaled by it. Heranes grabbed her by an arm, but Deska kicked her thick boot up between her legs. Heranes groaned and fell to her knees, cupping her sore pussy. "Why do they ALWAYS go for the pussy?" she cursed.

"Cuz it works," Deska sneered back, crawling over to reach for her sword.

"Yea? Well so does this!" Heranes grabbed Deska by the hair before she reached her weapon, dragging her back over to her. She grabbed the downed bandit by both shoulders and lifted her up, squeezing and then tearing apart at the shoulders of her top. It shred into pieces in her mighty hands, baring Deska's big jiggling breasts and throwing away her loincloth before her gawking followers. For all their public baths and lack of privacy in the camp, no one had ever seen their lady naked before now.

With one more sweep of her arm, Heranes hurled Deska into the air with massive force and a shrill scream of terror as she went. She rocketed into the air while Heranes turned to point at the rest of the bandits, one hand still rubbing her aching crotch and one of her tits hanging out of her top. "Rest of you!" she barked. "I'm going to count to thirty, and when I'm done, I'm going to start smashing every head that even LOOKS like it belongs to a bandit! You got me?!"
To punctuate her statement, the distant screaming of Deska, wordlessly shrieks of no particular meaning but pure terror, came zooming back down at them. The bandits were frozen as they watched to see what would happen with grim fascination, but Heranes turned, grabbed Deska by the neck in midair, and gave her what roughly equated to a chokeslam from miles up in the air. The impact shook the ground, and knocked several more pieces of the fort apart until it was clearly beyond any hopes of repair or use, just a big pile of logs.
"Five!" Heranes shouted, still kneeling with her hand on the KOed queens' neck. "Six!" The bandits took the point and ran for it in any direction they could.

Heranes walked past the guards back into the gates of Daran. King Palthas laughed as she arrived. "What a wonderful display that was!" he cackled in his dry and dirty tone. His smile dropped a bit as he noticed Heranes dragging one huge log behind her, one salvaged from the camp. It dragged wood and dirt over his throne room's floors, and make a real lot of... cursing? She dropped it with a thud, showing a good fifty bandits tied to it in various degrees of conscious, angry, and bound.

"Hey. How big's your jail?"

"I'm, er... what?"

"Your jail. I got like fifty here for you." She stared at him when he stared blankly back. "You told me to break up the bandits. I caught all I could, and it was your order. I broke em up. Now you take care of them. See what I care you do with them." Heranes paused and pointed back at the log. "Except that one."

Deska's good eye widened. "Wait, me?"

"The bandit queen herself?" King Palthas questioned.

"Yea. She was fun," Heranes said with a shrug. "She's good with a sword, and I'm not. I could stand to use a trick or two with them. I'd still have her in cuffs half the time, but better out there than the chopping block, right?" Heranes smiled warmly despite the predicament she had Deska in. She blinked at her vacantly for a moment, but nodded.

"Is... izzat alright, yer kingness?"

King Palthas frowned and stroked his beard. He had expected to take credit for her fall, but letting the queen go was a risk.

"Or, I mean, you try to keep her in one spot. Show him what you showed me, Des." Deska was held to the tree by several chains around her waist, one with a padlock in the front. Deska touched it and didn't even seem to visibly do anything before she popped it loose and wrapped it around her fist in one quick motion. "So your call, but frankly... I think she'd kill your prison to the last guard if you had her around."

King Palthas frowned and thought this over. "She'll be your responsibility then, not mine," he quickly deflected. "And she's to provide no help on your tasks."

"Hells, I'd punch her if she did. Just someone to talk to, drink with, get me place to place. She's a foreigner and still seems to know more about this part of the country than I do."

Palthas waved and grumbled. "Fine. The Queen is yours. Just keep her out of my sight and out of my news." Heranes grinned, taking it as a victory to not only finish her first task, but to annoy the jackass who gave it to her. She walked over to rip the last of the chains off of Deska, waving to the guards. "You got the rest, right? Cool," she dismissed.



Heranes and Deska were quick to work out their relationship while the king came up with her next task in the morning. Deska had most of her gear replaced, and was planned to be in cuffs or some manner of binding, only for Deska to casually show her how easily she got out of them each time. Heranes trusted Deska to fear her enough to not stab her in the back, but didn't count on that kind of attitude to make her always have her back. Heranes took the outlaw to an oracle of Hera, who happened to have just the thing, as the gods would have it. She gave Deska a golden bracelet, which on top of being stylish, would paralyze the former bandit queen whenever Heranes spoke the magic word at so much a whisper. They called it the Bracer of the Monkey Queen.

"Yobitdjtop?" Heranes repeated with a giggle. "Oh wow, that's going to be a blast. Come on! Des! Gimee a reason to test it!" Deska gave a wave of her arm, but the bracelet shone unnaturally. She frowned and decided not to try. "Good dog," Heranes praised, grinning and rubbing the one-eyed warrior on the back of her bushy head.

King Palthas called them back in the morning, with Deska in her new enchanted jewelry.

"I have decided your next trial. You did well on the test of the bandits," Palthas said, glancing at Heranes' new prisoner/pet. "I thought you would be ready for something a bit bigger. In the mountains, there are the three Sisters Geryon. I want you to steal their cattle for me."

Heranes threw up her arms and paced in a small circle. "Holy Hermes' hat... did you just send me against an army and now it's just THREE? You're softballing me, Pal!"

"These are no normal sisters, and no normal cattle. These sisters have lived for centuries, ageless and beautiful forever. Their secret is their cattle; beautiful slave women who produce milk all year round." The old perv grinned and licked dry lips. "I want those women and their life-giving milk. Imagine the leadership I could provide my kingdom and our gods if I had my youth again."

Heranes rolled her eyes and frowned at Deska. "Yea, and what he'd do with a bunch of big-titted women around and his youth again."

"How do ye do that?" Deska pried with a frown.

"Do what?" Heranes looked confused at the bandit.

"That," she said, gesturing a spiral at her eyes.

"What, rolling? It's easy. It's like this." Heranes rolled them again, but looked to the staring, one-eyed bandit. "Ah. Right.  You uh... you keep practicing. You'll get it eventually." She patted Deska on the shoulder. "Come on, queenie. Road trip time. Bring your hiking boots"

Trial 2: steal the milk maidens of the Sisters Geryon

Heranes had little trouble arriving again. Deska had tried to sneak out when they camped that night, but Heranes was used to watching the stars and didn't sleep as much as normal people did. She could go an entire day without rest if she wanted, which her parents told her made it hell when she was an infant. Heranes pretended to be asleep before muttering "Yobitdjtop" and Deska immediately froze up and fell on her face.

"Point taken, lass."
"Good dog. Gedjassbackup," Heranes chanted quickly, getting the bandit to gasp and crawl dejectedly back to camp to rest for the night. The two finally scaled the mountains, some by path and some by hands. Deska continued to keep her interest as the woman nimbled bound from rock to handhold, claiming it was easier than a ship's rigging. Heranes wasn't as nimble, but punching holes in the rock seemed to do just as well.

When they reached the peak, Deska was sent ahead for a quick scouting mission (quick as in she had 10 minutes until Heranes said the magic word again). She returned with an apple she didn't have before, munching on it casually.

"It's like the ol' windbag said. Small camp. Cave with a cage in front. Must be where they're keepin' the women." She took another obnoxious bite. "Food and stuff out in the open. Either they don't think anyone knows they're here, or that no one's dumb enough to come pokin' around."

Heranes nodded. "Just the three of them?"

Deska swallowed and held up three fingers. "Identical, 'cept for the hair. Red, white, and gold. One spear, one knife, one bare-handed."

Heranes considered what she'd been told. "Yea, Aestasa, Cadent, and Hiems. Summer, Fall and Winter. Matches the colors and all. Everything's gotta be a gods damned symbolism thing, doesn't it?" Deska stared at her and spit out some seeds as she finished the apple. "Sorry. Done a lot of this quest stuff. I swear if one of these things asks me a fucking riddle, I'm tearing its head off."

"So?" Deska shrugged, chucking her apple core off the mountain, just to feel a little power over something after her fresh disgrace. "What's the move? Ye want I should take out the lock and let 'em out all quiet-like?"

"Nah, I got this," Heranes insisted. She climbed up the lip of the cliff, hopping off into the campsite. "Yo!" she belted out. Three women sat among the camp, some food and a small fire going. They looked up in surprise, though not as much as Heranes might have expected from her sudden challenge. "Gimee your cattle!" Deska quietly smacked herself in the forehead from her hiding spot.

The women rose, tall and thin, but every bit as beautiful and young as the king had claimed. They had milky white skin, and hairs just how Deska had surprised, clad in plain silken robes. They looked barely into their twenties, and were a sort of lean and muscular that did nothing to interfere with their looks. Heranes was far stronger and bigger, but damn if she couldn't be a little jealous of their figures. If she had looks like that, maybe then she wouldn't have gone through "Hairy Knees" and "Her Anus" in school before she showed everyone she could break her desk in half over her thigh.

Two of the three beauties drew their weapons; a fishing spear and a knife that one had been using to carve up a fish. They advanced on the intruder, speaking for the first time.

"What did we catch, sisters?" spoke Aestas, the gold-haired sister.
"Something new, I thinks," added Cadent, the redheaded Autumn sister.
"New meat, or new milk?" grinned the white-haired Hiems. "Shall we see?"

Heranes frowned as they moved in their deliberate, fluid motions, speaking up whenever one of the others ended their sentences. "Okay, Deska? I'm started to get a little uncomfortable now."

"Don't you fuckin' bring me into this now!" Deska shouted back angrily over the ledge.

"Fine, I'll call you when I need you," Heranes called back. "By which I mean 'Yobitdjtop." There was a dull thump from over the ledge, chuckling to herself before she braced herself against the attackers.

Heranes lunged for the one with the spear, but was quickly starting to see what the king had meant by them being a bigger deal than the army. They fought like, well, a bunch of people fighting in the same area. That got really chaotic really fast. These women had spent who knows how long living together with nothing but each other and a few slaves. They moved like a single body more than a unit, and each time one moved, so did another. So when Heranes grabbed at Aestas' spear, she pulled back and let Cadent move in with the knife, as if part of some invisible, multi-person joint of an arm. Heranes had to twist and catch the knife hand, falling over backward to hold back the force. Her other hand went to palm Cadent's face, pushing on the red-headed hermit's neck.

"Why's it always the redheads that get me in trouble?" she growled, but she noticed the third sister... seemingly mounting the second. Cadent kept her eyes on Heranes, but moaned as she felt her sister's breasts and groin press against her back. It distracted Heranes enough that her busy hands couldn't do much to stop Hiems from reaching around her sister and groping the demi-god's tits.

"Hey! Definitely not okay, even from sexy hermits!" Heranes shouted. She brought her foot up beneath Cadent and kicked up into her stomach, flinging the two women off of her together.

"No milk," sighed Hiems, a hint of disappointment in her musical tone.
"All dry," chimed Cadent in a similar voice.
"Only meat left," Aestas added, twirling her fishing spear and looking Heranes over.

"Hey, my eyes are up here!" she snapped, feinting a punch at Aestas only to turn and throw an elbow into Cadent's face. The dagger sister squeaked in surprise, but Hiem jumped onto Heranes' back. She wrapped her legs around her waist and put her arms into a full nelson, wrestling Heranes down to the ground above her. She wasn't genuinely stronger than the demi-goddess, by what she could tell, she just had surprising strength and the element of leverage. By the time she hit the ground, Aestas had already raised her spear to strike the spot she fell into.

Heranes swung her head back, thumping her skull quickly into Hiem's face. She snarled in surprise, letting go of the burlier woman to easily roll aside. The spear jabbed into Hiem's breast instead of Heranes, the skewered sister giving out a high-pitched shriek. Heranes glanced at the injured sister and her shocked-looking sibling, though she didn't see any blood come through the fine white garment. She started to charge at them when Cadent tackled into her side, jamming the knife into her abdomen.

"Ow! You little shit!" Heranes growled, grabbing her attacker by the hair. She turned and banged the triplet's head off the nearest wall of stone, Cadent looking glassy-eyed and giggling briefly
before Heranes decided to give her one more thump there for good measure. Her mad cackling went a pitch higher, so Heranes twirled her upside down, trapped the triplet's head in between her thighs, and piledrove her into the rocky ground of their camp.

Cadent twitched, but then fell limply to the ground. Heranes frowned down at the slowly writhing woman, seeming out of the fight but leaking a bit of white from her temple. Heranes sighed again. "Bleeding milk. Yea. Why not?"

Aestas pulled her spear out of Hiems, the two standing to face Heranes again but looking a bit rattled between their sister being taken out of the picture and their own minor injuries. Heranes confirmed her suspicion when she saw the spear wound leaking its own thick, running milk. "You know, I'd ask about just letting me take the girls and go," Heranes panted, touching her side and coming back with her fingers red, rubbing them together with a scowl. "But damn do I hate being stabbed."

Hiems charged for her, but as Heranes braced for the attack, her sister lunged the spear in under Hiem's armpit. Heranes hopped back to avoid Aestas' spear tip, but Hiems ducked under her guard and squeezed the knife wound left by her sister. Heranes gave a pained scream, but its shrill pitch turned to a growl of fury within an instant. A thick bicep clamped around Aestas' head and the heroine dropped to the ground, slamming her face into the stone below.
Hiems bounced before she went limp on the ground, allowing Heranes to let her go and roll over to throw a kick that snapped the fishing spear in the middle of its haft. Aestas looked alarmed at the loss of her weapon, sizing up her foe and the state of her sisters.

"Come on," Heranes grinned, planting her feet. "Let's go three for three. I'm looking for a perfect score here."

Aestas seemed to try to cut her losses, sprinting for the cage door over the cave. Heranes caught her by her bright-colored hair, yanking her back and slamming a fist into the sister's deceptively youthful breast. Aestas bent over from the blow, but Heranes just grabbed a barrel behind her and smashed it over the pikewoman's head. It shattered into a huge splash of water, pouring out over the campsite and knocking the last sister out cold. Heranes dusted off her hands and stepped over some chunks of barrel towards the cage.

"Gedjassbackup!" she called over the cliff. "You're all clear."

Deska climbed over, rubbing the back of her head. "Aye, I thought that was the case. I figured ye'd won when I heard something huge being broken to pieces."

"Smart call." Heranes stepped over and ripped the crude metal bars off the cave in one go. "Hello, ladies. I'm here to rescue you from your freaky and probably incesty catpors."

A half dozen pale women came from inside, looking wide-eyed at their savior. All of them had skin and hair as white as winter moons, and delicate features apart from round and massive breasts. They were all topless, and wore dirtied loincloths that seemed commonplace for slave women. They stared and made occasional soft cooing noises, but didn't speak.

Heranes looked back as Deska and indicated towards them with her eyes. "They're shy. I get that a lot. Between the rescue and a body like this, even some dudes don't know what to do with me."

"Err, boss?" Deska urged, drawing her sword as one of the "cattle" bared her teeth and jumped on Heranes' back.

"Oh son of a Cerberus!" Heranes cursed, grabbing at the busty slave. The dairy woman bit into her the muscle between her shoulder and neck, but didn't quite manage to break her godly skin. It still hurt enough to get an angry scream from Heranes. Deska stepped in and thumped the hilt of her heavy sword on the slave's temple, knocking her limp beside her.

"Easy with the sword," Heranes warned as she rubbed the bite marks on her shoulder. "We need them alive for the mission."

Deska raised her scimitar at the advancing cattle. "I can sword fight and not kill someone. I didn't kill ye, if ya remember."

Heranes scoffed. "Not for lack of trying. You didn't kill me because you suck. Just every drop of blood you take from them, I take twice from you. Every head you cut off, I cut off two of yours."

"Sounds tough, but fair," Deska shrugged. The cannibalistic cattle pounced at them Heranes catching two by their big chests and slamming them into the ground. Deska whirled past two of the grabbing milk maids, kicking the legs out from under one as she passed. Deska thrust the huge blade at the farthest one, making her flinch as it buried itself in the stone next to her face. The milk maid opened her eyes just before Deska socked her in the jaw, making her head shoot to one side and bounce off the flat of her blade before falling to the ground.
Heranes held the two she'd thrown to the ground by the neck, squeezing as they started to choke out. This didn't keep another slavegirl from coming for her, so she stood back up, still gripping the cannibal wet nurses. The milkmaid bit into Heranes' arm, savagely trying to tear out a piece of flesh but barely drawing blood on her tough muscle. Heranes gave a quick ram of her elbow into the attacker's neck, knocking her off before she swung her fellow slave like an elaborate boxing glove. The choking cattle's breasts were bashed against her partner's head, knocking her out just before the two women in her grasp passed out.

"I've heard of titboxing, but that was kind of fun," Heranes grinned as she tossed them down to the ground. Deska had the last one by the hair and on her knees, the albino captive snapping her teeth at anything she set her eyes on.
"What ye want me t'do with this one?" she grunted, reining in the ambushing slave by the shaggy white hair.

Heranes stepped up and punched her in the face, dropping the slave limp like a rag doll in Deska's grip. "That so hard?" she asked, tossing out her hands.

"Well you're the one settin' this no-killin' rule on me. They were lookin' downright eager to do the same to us."

"It's part of the job. Besides, they're crazy cave people. Didn't seem like the godly thing to do just cuz they didn't know better."

"Oh, aye," Deska chuckled. "The godly thing to do would be to turn yeself into a spider and fuck a wench, then?"

"Maybe not when I'm a god. Goddess. Whatever," Heranes grumbled, looking about the camp and gathering whatever rope and chain she could find.

"Aye now? Well what'll ye be doing once you're up there on Olympus, eh? What's your big plans from up on high?"

Heranes squeezes two pieces of chain until they were forced to bend around each other into one. "I'm going to punch Hercules in the face, kick Zeus in the dick, and walk out of there giving the double deuce." Heranes held the chain in both hands as she gave Deska the finger with both hands.

Deska pondered her for a moment, then started tying some of the rope together to help. "A temple with a statue of that on the front... that's somethin' I could get behind worshippin'."


"Well, boss, I got you your cattle." Heranes entered the throne room, stooped over with the steel
cage of busty women over her back. She slammed it down as they each gave their own startled little squeaking noises.

"Believe me, it was a pleasure just to watch them jiggle all the way back," Deska smiled. "And then you'll be needin' these." She tugged on a length of chain, the three sisters following and bound to it. "Feels good to be on the other end of a chain again."

"Excellent!" the king smiled greedily, eying up the women. "But what do I need the sisters for?"

"Well they're the ones who know how to take care of them, now ain't they?" Deska explained, tugging on the chain. The sisters eyed the king and smiled.
"Six gifts from Hades. At every sunrise, the cattle must be fed human flesh," Aestas chimed in her singsong voice.
"A belly full each every day. Then their milk will keep your age another year," Cadent sang in her agreement.
"But even then, the milk will not grant thee life unless you have tasted the heart of thy own mother," added Hiems.

King Palthas frowned in disappointment. Even if he were so cold-hearted, his mother was long dead. Even then, it would keep him old, not make him young. The sisters smiled widely at him. The sisters stirred curiously in their cage. Heranes picked something out of her ear indifferently.
"They're real beauties though, ain't they?" Deska offered. She reached a finger through the bars, one of the cattle leaning in and staring at it before snapping her teeth at it. Deska pulled it back just in time. "Just so long as you mind the teeth."
Palthas grunted and waved a hand dismissively. Cannibals wouldn't even suitable as servants, let alone concubines. "Useless. Do with them what you will."

Heranes folded her arms. "And...? The job was to bring you the cattle, not make you immortal."

"And you have two tasks complete," Palthas conceded. "I'll have another feat for you come the sunrise."
Heranes turned and picked up the cage to leave. Deska followed suit with her chain full of immortal sisters. ""Take your time. I like to sleep to noon when I can."

That night, the two warriors celebrated. Two deeds done without worse than a few scratches and a bit of embarrassment. "And each time I got to get a little spit in that old creep's eye," Heranes boasted, finishing another mug. She dunked it back into a barrel of mead, telling the barmaid to leave the whole of it there for her and her guests. The sisters Geryon sat at the table with her, drinking quietly. Their cage full of cattle was rested outside, confident that no one had the strength or the sheer amount of fingers to spare to take them.

"Such cunning," chuckled Cadent.
"Such mercy," Hiems added.
"Such strength," Aestas praised. "We appreciate you sparing our long-lived lives, my lady Heranes."

"Well first off, I know how hard it is killing an immortal," Heranes excused, cutting herself off with a short burp. "Second, I'm not chopping up people just for immortality when I'm getting that anyway in a couple days. Third, anyone who goes up a mountain where cannibal slavers live probably deserves whatever they get."

"Yes, perhaps," Aestas mused.
"But we have had long lives, and never tasted defeat," added Hiems.
"We think it may be best to... retire, as it were," Cadent concluded.

"Getting out of the immortal cannibal business, are ye? Sounds like it would get boring after a while," Deska admitted with another long pull of her own drink. "What about your beasties?"
"Let them run."
"Let them hunt."
"No need for milk. Let them roam their mountains free. They'll know what to do."

Heranes looked out the window at the doe-eyed beauties, staring innocently at everything around them until it came into biting range. They certainly couldn't be worked into human society, and she doubted the underworld would be any better for them, if that was indeed where they were from. Maybe they'd even stop eating people if they were left alone in the wilderness... or maybe they'd get bored and eat each other. Either way, it seemed as just a decision as she could come up with.

"But we have wondered..."
"We sisters Geryon... we owe Heranes our lives."
"We thank her mercy. If ever you should need a favor repaid..."

Heranes seemed to ignore them and lifted the mead barrel. She drank the last from the bottom, getting some cheers from the bar's patrons in the process. "Well," she grunted as she set the empty barrel back down. "I managed to screw that dick Palthas out of an orgy tonight." The red-faced heroine patted one of the sisters firmly on the bottom (her blurry vision had lost track of which one). "I might as well rub his nose in it with one of my own, eh? I really should get used to banging immortals anyway."

"We had meant council..."
"Or aid upon the battlefield..."
"...but it's been so long since the touch of one who's not a sister. So where did you say you were sleeping?"

Deska threw up her hands in surrender. "Nope. Too rich for my blood. You enjoy your psychic sister foursome. I'm going to go drink everyone here under a table who's NOT an immortal."


In the early noon time, Heranes shooed out the sisters to return their former prisoners, saying they'd return to the kingdom later. Deska was waiting for her by the palace, the guards especially alert around the technical war-criminal. The former pirate waved to her. "How's your headache?" Deska smiled.

"What headache?"

"Ye drank most of a barrel of mead."

"Yea. I was celebrating." Heranes cracked her neck a bit. "I slept kind of funny, I guess, but that's because it was on top of three hot immortal bitches."

Deska sighed. "I'm startin' to hate this godly might shite."

"Yea, it's awesome. So what do you think King Shriveldick's got for us today? Helping old ladies across the street, or chasing an especially big spider out of his bathroom?"

Deska snickered as she walked up the steps to the throne room with her. "P'raps we're fetching a wee girl's lost kitten that's run away."


"I want a lioness."

Deska raised her eyebrow and popped a flask out from her freckled cleavage, taking a sip. "Well, I was close..."

"Like, any lion?" Heranes asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because the colesium's practically giving them away."

"Not just any lion. The pet lioness of Queen Onua," King Palthas specified.

"Now, you say 'queen," Heranes added warily. "Are we talking actual royalty, or copycat royalty like Deska here?"

"Hey!"

"Oh level with me, Des. It was pretty tacky."

"Wasn't my idea in the first place..."

The king cleared his dusty throat. "The lioness is a sacred figure of the Mebuti tribe, an ancient race of nomads in the dark southern continent. Their tribe is known for its warrior women, and Queen Onua is their highest and most powerful queen. You will bring me her sacred lioness, the one she calls Nestei."

"Why do you want a lion? Rather, why do you want THAT lion?" Heranes pressed.

"Not that it's important, but it's a political maneuver. Make yourselves look strong while others look weak."

"Well lucky you, Pal," Heranes said, flexing as she pointed at him. "Because that's kind of my specialty. Now let's start walking, Des."

"Walking where?"

"Walking where now, your highness?"

"The planes of Africa. The Mebuti do not stay in one place for long, but I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Heranes gestured towards the king. "See? Africa. We walk to Africa."

Deska pondered something a moment as she took another drink. "Africa's over an ocean, boss. Last I checked."

"Really? Huh. Well, then we walk to a boat."

Trial 3: obtain the sacred lioness of Queen Onua
To be continued... here! 
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