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Red Sonja and the Greek Hero	By : LuckyKnight Category: Comics > Misc - Crossovers > Misc - Crossovers Views: 760 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Red Sonja. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Greek Hero
- 1
Red Sonja had been sitting in this disgusting dungeon for days. Unfortunately, Phoenician slave traders had attacked her during the night and taken her on board their ship. In Syracuse, they had then sold her to a man who owned a gladiator school in Zucchabar. And now she had been sitting in this damned city in the middle of the Numidian desert for days, waiting to be sent to the arena. Sonja had taken up residence in the indentation, right next to the bars that formed the only window in the wet, stone vault. Fortunately, so far it only smelled as one would expect from old walls. If she rotted here any longer, it was to be feared that scents of a completely different nature would be added. It was impossible to say when she would be taken to the arena.
Sonja was confident that sooner or later she would find an opportunity to make her escape. But whether that would take another three days or three weeks, she didn't know.
In the cell with her were two Ethiopians, an Egyptian, a Celt and an Etruscan. An Illyrian had originally been there too. As soon as Sonja had entered the cell, he had wanted to have his way with her. Sonja had immediately forced him to kiss the floor and then broken his neck. The soldiers who had brought her here had barely locked the cell door when they saw the Illyrian corpse on the floor. Rolling their eyes, they had taken him out and issued a warning to Sonja - if she killed any more inmates, they would put her in a cell where there was no light at all and excrement was poured into it every day.
Sonja didn't find it difficult to comply. The other inmates kept their distance all by themselves. They knew as well as Sonja herself that the commandment not to kill any of the inmates did not mean that she was not allowed to break anyone's leg.
So she practiced patience. She had practiced that by now. She simply sat next to the bars that let in what little daylight there was and leaned her head against the wall behind her. At some point, footsteps approached. Sonja expected one of the farmhands to bring them their daily ration of lentil stew. Unfortunately, it usually consisted more of water than lentils. When Sonja looked at the light, however, it was still too early to eat.
It turned out that another prisoner had been brought in. A young man with long, dark brown hair and good, taut muscles. A man with a dashing face. He wore nothing but a dark blue, bronze-trimmed skirt around his hips. His upper body, tanned by the sun, was naked. His armor had obviously been removed. Only the bronze bracers and greaves had been left on him, as well as the bronze hoops on his upper arms.

The expression on the man's face revealed that he was annoyed. At least he didn't seem happy to be put in this cell. No wonder. Who would do that?
Sonja wondered where he might have come from. The little bit of clothing he was wearing ruled out Egypt or Rome. Perhaps Mesopotamia or Canaan, but Sonja doubted even that. In any case, he must have come from the Mediterranean region. A Hyborian would have looked different.

"Who are you?" the giant Celt murmured from the far corner. The newcomer scrutinized the prisoners for a moment before his gaze wandered to Red Sonja. He looked at her face, her red hair, her silver scale armor and her leather boots. Then he sat down on the floor by the bars.
"Hey, bastard," the Celt grumbled, "I asked you a question." The burly warrior with the red, braided pigtails crossed the cell and stopped in front of the newcomer with his legs apart. He looked up at him, bored.

He said: "Where I come from, it's considered rude to ask someone's name without telling them yours first."
"All right, asshole," the Celt said through bared teeth. "I am Orgetorix. They also call me the Butcher of the Haeduans."
The newcomer looked at him unimpressed. "It is an honor. I am Orestes, prince of Mycenae."
"Ah," hissed Orgetorix. "A Greek hero. How cute." He laughed spitefully. "I've heard of the likes of you. Hercules. Theseus. Perseus. But I've never heard of an Orestes. Apparently the bards always forgot you when they sang about your compatriots. Or have you not yet performed any heroic deeds of which you could be praised?"
Orestes smiled serenely. "I killed the Manticore of Ethiopia."
"Did you?" asked Orgetorix. "And how do I know you're not lying? Maybe you're just an insignificant bastard who claims to have done things that others have done."
"Maybe," said Orestes. "Or maybe not. Do you want to find out?"
"I'd love to," grinned Orgetorix, whereupon the Greek rose to his feet.
As soon as he stood opposite the Celt, he rammed his elbow into the face of the Gallic barbarian. A loud crack revealed the breaking of the nasal bone. Blood sprayed past Orestes' head. Orgetorix was still staggering when the Greek grabbed him by the mop of hair, pulled him back briefly - and then pushed the Celt's head against the iron bars with such force that the skull got stuck between the bars. It cracked open at the top and the brain burst out. Blood flowed over the entire body, which now hung limp and lifeless on the bars.
Orestes exhaled irritably before sitting down again - as if nothing had happened. The other prisoners, on the other hand, stared in horror at the Celt's bloodied corpse.
Red Sonja realized that a smile had crept onto her lips. She liked the Greek warrior. Obviously not a man who talked big, but preferred to let his actions speak for themselves.
"That buffoon was getting on my nerves anyway," she said.

Orestes looked at her. "Me too."
Sonja crossed her arms. She wanted to know: "How did you defeat the Manticore of Ethiopia? They say he is a beast with saliva and blood like corrosive acid and breath like poisonous fumes."

"Before I faced him," said Orestes, "I slew twelve men and sacrificed them to Ares - the god of war. I asked him for protection. So I could inhale the breath of Manticore as if it were fresh air. And I took a hot bath in his blood."
Sonja liked the story. She continued: "How exactly did you kill him?"
Orestes said: "With speed and endurance. At first I fought without the intention of seriously injuring him. I played with him, let him get tired. When he was so exhausted that he could no longer move as quickly as he had at the beginning, I made a few targeted attacks. I poked his eye out. This weakened him even more. After inflicting injuries on his arms and legs, I cut off his head."
Sonja liked the Greek more and more. She continued: "What did you do with the head?"
"I took it to the palace of the Ethiopian king. He asked me what I wanted for it. Then I told him that I wanted to fuck his queen."

Sonja laughed heartily. "And?"
"The man could tell that the manticore's head had intimidated him. Without waiting for his answer, I held out my hand to the queen to see if she was willing. And she was. I fucked her in front of the king. I squirted on her plump tits and left. I had barely made it past the city walls when my suspicions were confirmed. The king sent a few henchmen after me. That very night, I brought their heads to the king."

Orestes had a sense of humor. Sonja finally got some entertainment in this filthy hole. "What happened next?" she asked with growing enthusiasm.
Orestes continued: "I chained the king up and fucked his queen and his daughter in front of him."
Sonja laughed out loud. The story was so absurd that it could only be true. The fact that Orestes was obviously not afraid to sleep with a woman in front of strangers spoke for him. Finally, a man who wasn't shy about sex. Of course, he wasn't alone. The guys huddled on the other side of the cell probably wouldn't hesitate to fuck her in here either. But for one thing, they would probably come after barely three heartbeats, and for another, they weren't real men. Muscle power and obscene slogans were much more indicative of a lack of self-confidence. The Celt, whose body was still stuck between the bars, was a prime example of this. Of course, there were many women who got wet with this kind of man. But Red Sonja was definitely not one of them. And Orestes didn't seem to belong to this type of man.

No, a sublime dignity emanated from him. Honor was not a word Sonja used to use. Apart from the fact that it didn't fit in relation to Orestes, she hated the term. Too many pompous men threw it around. She wouldn't be surprised if Orestes didn't use the word at all.

The Greek warrior now wanted to know: "Who are you?"
"Red Sonja," she said, "from the steppes of Hyboria."
"What brings you to these... walls?"
"An unfortunate coincidence," she replied. "I assume you're not here by choice either."
"No." Bored, Orestes averted his eyes as he added: "I was taking a piss when one of those bastards put a sword to my throat."
"I was asleep," said Sonja. "And that upsets me, because I like my sleep."
Orestes studied her for a moment. "Where is Hyboria?"
"It's far," she said. "I doubt you've ever been there before."
"Tell me about the land," he challenged her.
She had to think about it. Where should she start? "It's a big country. With many kingdoms, primeval forests and snow-capped mountains. It is a continent. Populated by hollow-headed barbarians, perfumed kings and shrieking whores. Ruled by merciless gods."
Orestes asked: "Do you fear the gods?"
"No," said Sonja. "The gods are my allies. First and foremost Scathach. But also Chrom and Mithra."
The corners of Orestes' mouth twitched. "The gods are also my allies, especially Ares and Aphrodite. Most people fear the gods. And that's why the gods have power over them. If you want to survive in this cosmos, you just have to keep up with the cruelty of the gods."
"And you've practiced that?" Sonja asked. She wanted to see if he would now boast about himself - as the Celt would probably have done. Orestes let the eye contact between them continue for a while. Then he said: "Perhaps you will have the opportunity to judge for yourselves at some point."
Sonja bit her lip. "Oh, I certainly hope so."
Three guards came - actually to bring the food. When they saw the dead Celt, still hanging wedged between the bars as if he was eating the iron, they turned an unwelcome eye to the cell.
"Which one of you did this?"
Orestes said dryly: "Me."
Sonja added: "I helped him do it."
The guard explained bluntly: "I said no messing around in here. As punishment, you two will be sent to the dark cell."
They unlocked the lock and told Orestes and Sonja to get up. Sonja followed his request without hesitation. Orestes also stood up. They were led away by the soldiers. First down the wet tunnel that led away from the cells. An open wooden door was waiting at the end. Before they reached it, however, Orestes stopped and turned around.
"What is it?" asked the soldiers, who started to point their spears at the Greek warrior.
"I forgot something," said Orestes.
"I don't give a damn," the soldier countered. "Go on, keep moving."
Sonja suspected what Orestes had in mind. She grabbed one of the men by the temples, jerked his skull around and listened as his neck snapped. The other two twitched in agitation. Orestes had already punched them twice in the nose. While the blood was still spurting from their faces, Orestes snatched the spear from one of them. He spun it around and plunged it through the man's stomach. Sonja rammed the third against the wet stone wall, whereupon he collapsed unconscious.
Armed with a spear each, they and Orestes walked to the end of the tunnel.
The wooden door led into a dark passage chamber. Here, two other soldiers were sitting at an old table, passing the time by playing dice. As soon as Orestes and Sonja stood behind them, they jumped up from their stools. Sonja grabbed one of them by the scruff of his hair. She rammed his face five times onto the tabletop, making it bloodier each time. When his teeth came up, Sonja realized that he had lost consciousness. That should be enough.
Orestes, meanwhile, had plunged the bronze spearhead right through the other soldier's larynx and pulled it out again. The man had fallen backwards, his eyes wide open.
Through an archway they could see into the courtyard surrounded by a mud-brick wall.
"Where is this asshole who wants to enslave us?" asked Sonja.
"I suppose," said Orestes, "he has his chambers on the upper floors."
"Then let's go," said Sonja as she set off. The owner of this estate did indeed live in a large room, the portal to which was guarded by two soldiers who looked much more robust than the guys who were in charge of the dungeon.
"Who are you?" they growled and were already in attack position when Orestes swung his spear.
One of the men tried to stab him with his sword, but Orestes skillfully drew a large circle in the air with his spear. He used it to slit the soldier's throat. The man instantly dropped his sword and shield, went to his knees and clutched his throat as he choked on his own blood. His sidekick, meanwhile, carried himself with the intention of taking on Sonja. But she beat him to it. He awkwardly hurled his sword - perhaps to decapitate her. All she had to do was duck down and plunge her spear into his jaw from below. The bloody tip emerged from the back of his head and the skull shattered completely as soon as Sonja had retrieved the spear.

Orestes and Sonja waded through the pool of blood on the ground and opened the gate.
A hall in which leopard skins covered the floor and which was adorned with artistic sculptures. The room was opened up by four dark pillars that led onto a terrace. A mighty stone throne stood against the wall, guarded by six soldiers. Sitting on it was the prefect of this province, whose name - if Sonja remembered correctly - was Basilius.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted immediately and ordered his soldiers: "Go on, kill them."
The soldiers raised their weapons. Sonja had feared that there would be no proper slaughter today. But fortunately she was wrong. She gripped her spear with both hands. The armed men came running towards her. Three were dedicated to Orestes. The other three belonged to her alone. Sonja struck the first in the face with the blunt end of the spear. It hit his nose, which broke with a loud crack. The man fell to the ground, howling. She gave the next one a nasty kick in the stomach, causing him to fall backwards. While he struggled to get up again, Sonja crossed swords with the third. She ducked away from one of his blows. Before he tried to strike out again, she rammed her foot onto his kneecap and laughed as she heard his leg break. He screamed loudly, but made no effort to fight back. Sonja had an easy game.
His next attack was clumsy. The pain in his leg was too much for him. Sonja chopped off his sword hand, whirled the spear high above her and finally cut the soldier's head off his neck.

Now there was only one man left to defend himself. But he had no other choice. He had to fight. Sonja walked towards him. He suddenly dropped his sword and shield. He fell to his knees, folded his hands and begged with teary eyes: "Please don't. Let me live. I beg you. Please."

"Coward," Sonja hissed and spat on his forehead. She then forcibly grabbed his head and squeezed his eyes out with her thumbs. The soldier shrieked like a little girl. As he squirmed and held his eyes, blood flowed between his fingers. Sonja picked up her spear and rammed it right through the man's stomach. He continued to scream and vomit his guts out. Sonja picked up his sword from the ground, stood behind him, put the blade to his neck, took a swing and chopped off his head, which immediately rolled in the direction of the throne.
Blood gushed out of the open neck and rained down on Sonja. She laughed at the top of her lungs.
Basil crouched there in fear. Orestes, who had already killed the three other soldiers, walked purposefully towards him, holding the spear with both hands.

"No," shouted Basil. "Please. I am rich. I have a lot of money. Please don't." But Orestes was not to be deterred. He swung and rammed the spear into Basil's stomach. The prefect roared, his eyes wide open. It was clear to him that he had never thought it possible to feel such pain. Orestes lifted him up and impaled him properly so that Basil slid down the shaft of the spear. The blood from the wound covered Orestes from head to toe.
Sonja continued to laugh. Orestes proved his sense of humor again. He flung Basil around until he rammed into the stone wall. Then he let go of him. Basil choked, whimpered, gasped and spat up an endless amount of blood. Orestes left the spear lodged in his body as he turned away. Basil clutched the spear desperately, as if hoping to pull it out. Sonja watched for a moment as he struggled with death. It would be a while yet.
But she was not interested in Basil. She now turned her attention to Orestes, who was coming towards her.
When he stopped opposite her, she gave him a mischievous grin. He had proved himself. He should be rewarded for that.
Sonja turned her arms behind her back and undid the clasp of her silver scaled bikini. She took it off and showed Orestes her full, round breasts. A smile of pleasure appeared on his blood-smeared face. Sonja picked up blood from his chest with her index finger. She licked the finger with relish.

Orestes finally grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him. He placed his lips over hers and plowed through her mouth with his tongue. Soon after, his hands moved upwards and he squeezed her breasts. When he broke away from her mouth, he leaned down and began to suck on her nipples as he squeezed her breasts even tighter. At some point, he lifted Sonja up and carried her over to the throne. There he set her down and got down on his knees in front of her. He pulled her forward so that she was sitting right on the edge. As soon as he had lifted her silver loincloth aside, he placed his mouth between her legs and began to lick, suck and slurp. Sonja moaned. He had great talent. Sonja quickly began to get excited.
She could feel his energy flowing through her body. She placed her thighs on his shoulders. He clawed his hands into her and that aroused her even more.
When his tongue drove her completely mad, she let out a loud scream that could be heard throughout the walls. She clawed her fingers into the stone backrest of the throne, pushing her head back. At some point, the tension left her body. But then she was overcome by a feeling of weightlessness as Orestes lifted her up again and placed her over his shoulder. He walked with her to one of the tables, where exquisite dishes were laid out on silver plates and carafes of wine. He plowed over the table with his arm, causing the dishes and food to fall to the floor with a clatter. He then grabbed Sonja's hips and pressed her against the table. She spread her legs. Shortly afterwards, she felt Orestes penetrating her. She opened her eyes wide. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the girth of what was inside her.
And then he moved. Sonja screamed. It was unbelievable. Orestes slapped his hand brutally against her buttock and that gave her already absurd arousal an extra boost. Then his thrusts began. He thrust into her again and again, powerfully and without consideration. Sonja couldn't stop her screaming. She gasped for air as another orgasm raged through her body. But Orestes didn't stop. On the contrary, he became more cruel.
"Yes," Sonja screamed loudly, because that was exactly what she wanted. "Harder," she screamed. And Orestes' thrusts became harder. His hands slapped against her buttocks again, four times in a row. He actually managed to make her come a second time shortly afterwards. And he still didn't stop thrusting into her. That couldn't be true. Sonja needed something else now, otherwise she would go crazy. So she pushed herself away from the edge of the table.
Orestes stepped back and almost tripped. Sonja laughed spitefully as she tried to catch her breath. Then she jumped towards him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his back. He held her by kneading her ass. Sonja clung to his neck with her arms and sucked on his lips as if only they could keep her alive. Suddenly, however, Orestes threw Sonja off and she fell backwards onto the floor. It hurt, but the pain only excited her all the more.
She jumped up, ran towards him and pushed him to the ground. She sat on him, pushed him back inside her and slid her pelvis over his. As she bobbed up and down, her tits bounced around wildly and Orestes reinforced this by giving them light slaps. In between, he squeezed her nipples or played around them with his thumbs.
She could tell that her tits were driving him crazy.
She laughed. "Do you want to fuck my tits?"
"Yes," he moaned.
"Do you want to come on my tits?"
"Yes."
"Then you have to earn it first."
He then pushed her off him. They stayed on the floor. He took her from behind and spread her legs. She supported herself on the floor, pushed her arms through and felt him claw his hands into her ass. Then she felt him inside her again. And again she had to scream at the top of her voice. She had the feeling that he was now penetrating her even deeper and giving her even harder thrusts. Sonja's screams became louder and louder - until she was overwhelmed by another orgasm that surpassed all the others. She saw nothing more, heard nothing more. She only felt the glistening tornado that made her body glow. Meanwhile, Orestes continued to ram her from behind. Only when her ecstasy slowly subsided did he withdraw from her. Once again, he lifted her over his shoulder and walked with her to the stone throne.

This time, however, he sat down on it and made her kneel before him. Orestes grabbed Sonja's chest and pushed it between her tits. He pressed them together so that his huge cock disappeared completely inside them. He rubbed it between her tits while his thumbs played with her nipples.
Sonja could tell from the sounds that escaped Orestes' mouth that he was about to come. And because she wanted to know what he tasted like, she grabbed his cock and put her lips over it. She licked it and kept pushing it into her mouth. Then Orestes let out a mighty cry and Sonja felt the white juice flowing down her throat. She swallowed it down. It tasted like the power of a demigod. She continued to lick his cock, because it excited her too. Orestes, meanwhile, leaned backwards in relief.

Finally, she climbed onto his lap and enjoyed the way his cock pulsated beneath her. She stuck her tongue in his mouth again and kneaded her breasts once more.

"That was incredible," she murmured with a mischievous smile.

"No," he said. "That was absolute madness."
"You know what?" she asked.
"Like what?"
"We should fuck each other more often. Because you fuck exceptionally well. Men like you don't come along very often."
Orestes replied: "Needless to say, women like you don't come along every day either." He sighed with exhaustion. "It takes the strength of a demigod to tame your body."
How funny that Orestes also used this word.
"What's going to happen now?" she asked.
Orestes relaxed and closed his eyes. "We should get two horses and get the hell out of here."
"So you're not going your separate ways?" she asked with interest.
"I'd hate to miss out on such incredible sex again."
"I feel the same way," she laughed and kissed him. "Then let's see if they have any suitable horses left in these stinking walls."
She wanted to get up from his lap. But he grabbed her arm. "Wait."
At first she thought something had happened or that he had to tell her something. But when she felt him getting hard under her again, she knew what he wanted. He reached into her ass, lifted it a little and penetrated her again.
They started again. Sooner or later Sonja would have to return to Hyboria, but first she wanted to spend a thousand hot nights with this Greek hero and let him fuck her senseless.
- 1
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Red Sonja and the Greek Hero