Turns against Aphrodite

Jack smirked at the former goddess, taking in how weak she looked. Was she to blame for every girl who rejected him in his school days? Every time a girlfriend broke up with him for idiotic, manufactured reasons, was that her? Hell, think bigger. How many times had powerful men started wars because of pent up rage at not getting laid enough? Here stood the woman who'd caused all that misery, standing before him, defenseless.

He had the power to make her suffer, just so long as he made it sexual. What was sexual, anyway? Come to think of it, what wasn't?

"Take off your dress," Jack ordered.

Aphrodite started. "Jack?" Her doe-like eyes were wide, shining.

"Oh, I'm sorry, almost forgot." Jack raised the conch shell to his mouth. "Take off your dress."

With trembling fingertips, the former goddess unclasped her dress from the shoulders, letting the fabric pool around her feet. She had no shame in her nudity, no qualms about sexual acts... but she'd never had reason to be frightened before. Jack loomed over her fragile, female body. It had been chosen just for him - shorter, smaller, weaker even than a regular mortal CEO. And she'd made him a god.

Jack's eyes locked on her naked breasts, her pink nipples hardening in the air conditioned office. He could almost see her heart beating behind them, imagined he'd be able to feel its pumping if he held them. But why imagine, when there was nothing to stop him from touching?

His large hands cupped her tender breasts, squeezed them unkindly, just to see the flesh bulge out. Aphrodite felt rooted to the spot. She squirmed in his grasp, but he only redirected his attention to her nipples, pinching them hard with fingers calloused from hours in the climbing gym. She whimpered at the pain.

"You really are vanilla," Jack mocked. "No wonder you needed replacing. Imagine a god of sex who can't even handle some light pain."

Aphrodite wanted to tell him this was anything but light, given how new she was to her weakened state, but knew it would only encourage him. She knew she had to stay stoic, make him get bored with her and move on to some other woman. But she couldn't help her eyes wandering down to the outline of a massive, rock hard cock straining against his work clothes.

"You want my rod of judgement, Aphrodite?"

If she said no, he'd surely **** it on her. But if she said yes, would he make it harder for having asked, or would he deny her and move on? Or should she just stay silent, let him play out his little fantasy before finding a new one? She knew she had to decide soon, or he'd make the decision for her.