The Aphrodite's Curiosity

APHRODITE I

『OLYMPUS』

A certain goddess of love and lust was returning from her lover's chambers. Her appearance was the most beautiful in Olympus.

With dark skin and long pink hair, she walked completely naked, her heart-shaped curls conveniently covering her most intimate parts.

Her body was perfect—curvaceous, with large, round breasts and hips so flawlessly shaped that no mortal could begin to describe her beauty.

Aphrodite was leaving the palace of her lover, Ares, the god of war, smiling from ear to ear, the memories of their relentless passion still fresh. They had been making love non-stop for two weeks, and she could still feel the sensation of Ares' manhood within her, as if the act had no end.

As she walked back to her temple, she observed the usual bustle of nymphs and lesser gods moving back and forth, attending to their daily routines.

Her steps were steady, but her mind drifted toward the ever-familiar boredom that often plagued her.

She was the goddess of love, beauty, and sex.

Her duty was to make everyone fall in love and indulge in passion—including herself. No one could love as deeply as she did, whether it was pure love or raw, primal desire.

Yet, she was bored.

She traveled far, seduced mortals, and shared nights with gods, but it was all the same. Ever since the last great argument between the Olympians, everything felt dull.

She needed… entertainment.

Finally reaching her temple, the goddess swung its gates open and teleported into her lavish chambers. She was immediately greeted by her servants and concubines crawling toward her, but with a wave of her hand, she dismissed them all. She desired something more… exciting.

Taking a golden mirror encrusted with small crystalline jewels, she examined her reflection. But this was no ordinary mirror—it was *Ojessed*, an ancient gift from her former husband, Hephaestus.

At the thought of her ex-husband, her brows furrowed slightly. Their marriage had been far from ideal. She had hurt the forge god deeply, but what could she do? She was the goddess of **love and sex**, for heavens' sake! She could never be content with a god who loved his craft more than carnal pleasures. What was Hera even thinking when she arranged their marriage?

No matter now. In the end, she had made amends. Knowing that her servant Aglaia had long admired Hephaestus, she subtly influenced Hera's decision to dissolve their union and encouraged Aglaia to pursue him.

With just a few seeds of love planted in Hephaestus' rusty heart—*voilà*! Now he had a devoted wife who was also the goddess of **creativity**, perfectly complementing his work.

As an added bonus, she had orchestrated reconciliation between Hera and her estranged son, earning her some much-deserved praise.

"I am a genius," she thought with pride.

Hephaestus must have realized her involvement, as he later invited her to be the godmother of his first daughter with Aglaia. Seeing the pure love in the little one's eyes brought Aphrodite a rare sense of genuine joy after decades.

And yet… this cursed boredom persisted.

Ares was a fiery lover, but even he was becoming dull, consumed with his rivalry against Athena. Aphrodite still couldn't understand why he hadn't realized he would never outsmart the goddess of wisdom by playing her game.

"Some people never learn," she muttered, picking up *Ojessed*.

Using the enchanted mirror, she began observing the mortal world, gliding over Amazonian lands, Athens, Sparta, Crete, and—wait—Crete?

"What is that?" she whispered, intrigued.

Adjusting the mirror, she zoomed in on the source of a palpable rage emanating from within Crete's palace walls.

Peering inside, she first found herself becoming something of a voyeur, watching Queen Pasiphae riding her husband like a beast in heat.

"Well, that's amusing," Aphrodite chuckled. "Though I admit, cursing her to fall in love with that bull was one of the strangest requests Poseidon ever made."

She reminisced about the day Poseidon, in his usual pettiness, sought her aid for his schemes. Her curiosity and dark sense of humor had gotten the better of her, and she had agreed.

It had been a delightful spectacle to watch, especially when King Minos discovered the betrayal. Rarely did she see one of Zeus' bastards so thoroughly humiliated.

Shaking off her amusement, she returned her attention to the source of that rage.

Ignoring Pasiphae's loud escapades, she ventured deeper into the palace and eventually discovered the source: a child.

No, not just any child—a hybrid, radiating anger.

He had pale, white hair reminiscent of his father's coat, crimson eyes, and dark horns. But there was something else… something divine about him.

"Oh? My dear Poseidon, what have you done this time?" Aphrodite smirked, her voice laced with curiosity.

With a snap of her fingers, she altered her divine appearance into something more bearable for mortal eyes. Though the child was a demigod, she wasn't sure his mortal frame could withstand the sight of her true form.

"Now then, let's have some fun," she whispered with a soft smile.

__________________________________

ASTERIUS II

'Damn gods! I'll make them pay for throwing me into this ridiculous world!'

The young Asterius grumbled incoherently as he stabbed a toy in his hands and crushed it with his grip.

"At least I've managed to delay my imprisonment in the labyrinth," he muttered, though Minos' fearful glances suggested it was only a matter of time.

He knew the Moirai hated deviations from fate and would undoubtedly find a way to trap him in the labyrinth and orchestrate his death at the hands of Theseus.

*Not in this life.*

His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of a stranger.

"A child shouldn't wear such an angry face, young demigod."

The melodic voice startled him, and he scrambled backward.

Turning toward the source, his breath caught.

"W-wow."

Aphrodite stood before him, her celestial beauty almost suffocating.

"Fufufu, it's good to know my charms still work, little lord~"

But Asterius, instead of succumbing to admiration, blurted:

"How the hell do you even walk with those two watermelons on your chest?!"

"...Ara?"

Aphrodite responded, confused by the little bull's question. Usually, people—men and women alike—would drool upon seeing her appearance, but this was the first time someone questioned her like this.

"I'm serious, woman. How the hell do you walk around with those damn watermelon-sized breasts without falling over or having a ruined spine?"

The small hybrid, once nearly mute, was now indignantly rambling about what he saw. Meanwhile, the goddess could only kneel before the boy with a pout on her face, irritated because he was paying more attention to whatever nonsense he was ranting about—something involving "physics and proper physiology"—than the fact that a beautiful woman stood right before him.

"Seriously, how do you even walk like that? This is blatantly NOT SCIENTIFICALLY ACCURATE! Your spine should be completely ruined with that much weight pulling downward and forward compared to the rest of your slim, slender frame. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, WOMAN?"

The child spoke while approaching her and grabbing Aphrodite's breasts, entirely unaware of any malice in his actions. Aphrodite, who would typically feel pleasure and pride when her magnificent breasts were touched, now felt nothing but indignation because the reason they were being squeezed wasn't for pleasure—it was for CRITICISM OF THEIR SIZE!

"GRRR, LISTEN HERE, YOU BRAT! MEN WOULD KILL TO TOUCH THESE BREASTS, GOT IT?! SHOW SOME RESPECT!"

The goddess of love shouted in irritation as she grabbed the boy's cheeks and pulled them. In retaliation, and equally annoyed, the boy gripped her nipples and yanked them harshly, causing the goddess to let out a pained shriek.

"COMPLAIN ALL YOU WANT, WATERMELON BREASTS! I'M NOT THE ONE DEFYING THE LAWS OF PHYSIOLOGY, YOU FEMALE GORILLA!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, BRAT?! WHO ARE YOU CALLING A GORILLA?! THAT'S SO RUDE! YOU HORNED LITTLE RUNT!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING HORNED, YOU DANGEROUS BOOBS!"

"DANGEROUS BOOBS?! YOU INSOLENT LITTLE KID!"

And so, despite being thousands of years old, the daughter of a primordial being—the lord of the skies, Uranus—a goddess who had seduced countless men and women, gods and mortals alike, and had cursed countless generations who dared challenge her...

Aphrodite was now trading childish insults with a four-year-old boy while tugging on his cheeks as he violently pulled at her nipples in retaliation.