The Saga of Tythoros Ch. 06

This is my attempt at a "porn parody" (for lack of a better description) of Ancient Greek mythology. It is not a direct adaptation of any one story, but an original tale made of tropes and archetypes pulled from several Greek myths. The intention was not only to create a work of erotic fantasy, but an epic saga that paid loving tribute to the poets and playwrights of antiquity.

Thank you for reading. Please enjoy.

Chapter 6

The three travelers continued moving northward, trading stories about themselves as they went. Their progress was unimpeded until the time came one evening to set up camp. Tythoros pointed to an opening in a mountain nearby, though its entrance was blocked by an enormous stone.

"This cave will serve as shelter for us," he said.

"A fine shelter indeed," remarked Callioa, "for no man or beast could get inside there."

Sidrophus, meanwhile, simply looked on as Tythoros easily pushed the boulder aside.

"By the golden reins of Artemis," asked Callioa, "how did you come upon such power?"

"I wish to the gods that I knew," Tythoros answered. "Perhaps it was granted to me by Plakinos, that kindly man who raised me from childhood to cut and carry stone."

Callioa turned to Sidrophus. "Are all men from the city blessed with such strength?"

"In truth, fierce Callioa, they are not. I could only wish to have such endurance as that of good Tythoros."

"And I," said Tythoros, "could only wish to have your aim and stealth with a bow."

"I am well aware of his skill at archery," Callioa said curtly.

There followed a tense pause, as each of them silently wished that the previous few seconds could somehow be undone.

Finally, Tythoros pointed skyward. "The hour grows late," he said. "Come, let us make camp and retire for the night."

Just as the three of them set down their burdens, a peculiar jingling sound was heard.

"Do you hear that?" asked Sidrophus.

"I do," replied Tythoros. "But what is it?"

The three of them spread out in search for the peculiar noise. It was Callioa who first figured out what it was.

"Tamborines," she said. "We must stay close!" she shouted, turning around to face her companions. They all turned back to find that their belongings had vanished.

"Have you lost something, foolish travelers?"

The voice belonged to one of two ugly and bearded men, both of them carrying the stolen supplies. They had round and upturned noses, with horns and pointed ears like those of animals. Though they appeared like men from the waist upwards, they stood on legs like those of a goat and rough, bristled fur covered their bodies entirely.

"Satyrs," hissed Callioa. "After them, quickly!"

In a flash, the creatures ran away into the forest, laughing and shaking their tamborines as they fled. Their speed and the growing cover of dusk might have made their getaway easy, but their constant noise gave away their position. Tythoros followed them with an endurance that could outrun and outlast any creature of the forest. Callioa ran in tireless pursuit as well, after a lifetime of chasing down far stealthier prey.

Still, the chase was not an easy one. The satyrs led their hunters around trees, through branches, over bushes and streams. Yet Tythoros was too powerful to relent and Callioa knew her way around forested land too well.

At last, Tythoros made a running leap at the satyr he was chasing and wrestled him to the ground. At the very same moment, Callioa had captured her quarry and twisted his arms into an especially painful lock. Her satyr cried out in pain.

"I am sorry!" he screamed. "I am sorry! We were only having fun! Please let me go, for we never did harm to any of your company!"

"Pathetic," sneered Callioa. "You satyrs are such worthless and cowardly jokers."

"Yes, I am only a coward," the creature sobbed. "I am such a pathetic creature next to your beauty." He howled in pain as Callioa tightened her hold.

"It was not my beauty that caught you," she corrected, "but my strength and speed."

"Yes, I am but a slow weakling compared to you," the satyr amended. "Please just take your things and let us go, I beg of you."

"You shall never trouble us again?" asked Callioa.

"Never, should I live a hundred years."

"And all the other satyrs in this wood will leave us in peace?"

"I will see to it, I swear to you."

"Then get out of my sight." Callioa released the satyr, who then hurried away into the woods. Tythoros then turned to the satyr in his hold.

"Shall I turn you over to her?" he asked. In response, the satyr shook his head wildly.

"Then I believe we have an agreement. You and your kind leave us be." Tythoros released his captive, who quickly followed his companion.

"Well done," said Tythoros. "No woman from the city could have run with such speed or intimidated with such bravery."

Callioa brushed an auburn hair back into place. "It takes little bravery to scare a satyr," she said. "They are normally quite peaceful, and any offense they give is meant purely in jest."

"They were quite difficult to catch, for such peaceful creatures." he pointed out.

"Satyrs are most elusive," replied Callioa. "Most hunters spend their lives failing to catch a satyr with bow and arrow, but you did it with your bare hands. I never thought I would see or hear of any man who could claim such a feat."

Tythoros looked toward her. Callioa's diamond-shaped face glinted with the moonlight reflected from her green eyes. He was moved to ask why she rebuked any compliment about her beauty, when another thought came to his mind.

"Sidrophus," he said. "Where is Sidrophus?"

They looked around to find that indeed, he was nowhere to be found.

"It seems he could not match our pace," said Callioa. "He must have been left behind."

"We must search for him."

"The night has grown too dark," argued Callioa. "If we search for him, we will only get lost ourselves."

"We cannot leave him behind," Tythoros insisted.

"He will have to wait until daylight."

"As we sleep here and hope he survives?!"

"Wait," said Callioa. "Listen."

At that moment, the two of them heard a distant brustling noise. They moved to face it, bracing for combat as the noise moved closer. Very soon, another satyr made himself known, carrying Sidrophus over his shoulder.

"I believe this man is one of your company?" asked the satyr as his passenger was lowered to the ground.

"He is," answered Tythoros. "Thank you."

"Go you well, travelers," said the satyr as he ran off. "And pray forgive my brothers for their sport."

Sidrophus watched as Tythoros and Callioa traded an uneasy glance. "What troubles you?" he asked.

"Are you unhurt?" Tythoros asked him.

"Yes, I am quite well, and yourselves?"

"It is good that we are all well," replied Tythoros, "for we must keep moving."

"Why?" asked Sidrophus. "Would it not be safer to set camp here?"

"If the satyrs meant to play with us," explained Callioa, "they would have split us up and left us lost in the woods. Instead, they brought us all to this same place."

In an instant, Sidrophus understood. Sleeping there risked laying vulnerable to further dangers. "Let us continue," he said, "and find someplace more suitable."

The three of them collected their supplies and continued moving north.

***

At that very moment, the satyrs continued running with all haste away from the three travelers. There was no point in staying to risk further harm and confrontation. No, the satyrs had already done their part by bringing the humans further north at a faster pace.

They had lured Tythoros and his comrades closer to the boundaries of Thrace. It was just as their lord, the ivy-bearer Dionysus, had commanded.

***

The companions set up camp a comfortable distance from where the satyrs had left them. Sidrophus sat awake to keep watch, though he could not have slept anyway. His mind kept drifting back to the day's events. Tythoros and Callioa were fast and strong enough to recover their supplies, while Sidrophus had to be dragged to them by another satyr.

Though Tythoros had always been generous with praise for Sidrophus – and grateful for the company, without a doubt – the prince felt like a weakling against the godly strength and endurance of his friend. As for Callioa, it stung his pride to know that he could be so badly outmatched by a woman. Sidrophus had also been partly responsible for killing her family. That grudge clearly endured in some way, no matter how strongly she denied it. She was a beauty he could not hope to woo, even without her vow of chastity, and that stung his pride even more.

In Thebes, he was the only son of a king. In the woods, all of his power and wealth amounted to nothing. He was a stranger wandering far from home, and a mortal in the company of near-demigods.

Sidrophus' thoughts wandered to his home. He worried for his dear sister, poor Cleia, who had cared for him from infancy. How were her children, he wondered? Was there any hope that brutish Xalchon was treating her well? Perhaps word had come at last about that lost sister she had always pined for.

He worried for his parents. How long could Ammochrusios hope to continue holding power, as old and infirm as he was? What would become of frail Cuphora when he went down to the House of Death?

Sitting there, next to his mighty companions, Sidrophus felt strangely unfit to govern Thebes in his father's place. Then again, he would still be better for the throne than Xalchon. It was too much to think that the bastard might have been ruling over Thebes at that very moment, for all Sidrophus knew.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens and prayed as loudly as he dared, without waking up his friends.

"Gods of Olympus, please hear my prayer. I beg of you to watch over the people of Thebes in my absence. Help them prosper under the rule of my father while I am gone from his side. If I should return to the vibrant city I love so well, an enormous banquet shall be held in celebration of this quest's successful end, and many fat sacrifices will be made to honor your good graces."

***

The prayer went up and it was heard, though the gods did not respond. Far away in Thebes, other events were being set in motion.

***

Mere moments after Sidrophus had finished his prayer, a strange noise reached his ears. The noise was faint, but it almost sounded like the screams of women. Sidrophus left his comrades, moving quickly and quietly to investigate.

He came upon a clearing, where he found a red-haired woman moaning loudly as she thrust her hips back and forth against a blonde woman's face. The blonde was lying on the ground, with the head of a black-haired woman between her legs. All three were completely nude, save only for the wreaths of ivy that adorned their heads. Their pale skin shone in the starlight, though the red-haired woman's face was flush with color.

Sidrophus could not guess why these young beauties wore wreaths of ivy, nor did he know why fawn skins and enormous wooden clubs surrounded them as they made love. He could only watch spellbound as the redhead arched her back, squeezed her pert pink breasts, and cried out to the skies in pleasure.

He felt so ashamed for watching, but Sidrophus could not think of anything else to do. He did not know who these women were, he did not know if they required assistance of some kind, and he certainly did not know what to tell the others if he went back.

The prince's dilemma did not last long. After her vocal orgasm, the redhead opened her eyes. By some strange chance, her faint blue eyes opened to meet those of Sidrophus. In an instant, she dismounted and rose to her feet. Though Sidrophus could not hear their talk, all three of the women rose to look at him.

Sidrophus moved to avert his gaze and apologize, but he never got the words out. They were on him in an instant, clutching his arms with surprising strength to drag him into the middle of the clearing.

"Ladies," he started to say, "what is the meaning of this? I am truly sorry for the intrusion and I will gladly go on my way --"

It was the redhead who tore away his robe and wrestled him to the ground, but the blonde threw her off. The blonde straddled his chest and kissed him deeply, tenderly but firmly clutching his face in her hands.

Sidrophus meant to repeat his demand for an explanation, but he could not pull his mouth away to ask. Instead, the shock and arousal went straight to his penis, much to the delight of the other two women. He could feel them fighting over the great pile of flesh between his legs. They were each eager to put him into their mouths, sucking and stroking him with fast and aggressive movements before the other one could take control.

Finally, the blonde took her mouth away from his. Before Sidrophus could think of a rational question to ask, she sat upon his face, spread her intimate folds with her fingers, and proceeded to grind her hips back and forth along his mouth and chin. Meanwhile, the black-haired woman had taken sole possession of his cock, sucking and stroking it while the redhead contented herself to lick his anus.

Sidrophus tried mightily to resist this treatment, but all of his mortal strength could not budge the firm thighs pressing themselves against his cheeks. His hips bucked wildly – both in a vain attempt to escape and in response to the intense pleasure swelling in his loins – yet these women would not be denied.

Finally, Sidrophus let out a cry muffled by pale flesh and curled blonde hairs. His back arched and his loins shot spurts of pearly discharge into the black-haired woman's waiting throat. She finally released his manhood after swallowing every last drop of his release, but there was no relief for Sidrophus. The redhead took his newly-limp phallus into his mouth and immediately set to work making it hard again.

Meanwhile, the black-haired woman moved to lick and caress the blonde's puffy nipples. Sidrophus had no idea what to do except to help pleasure the blonde and hope that her orgasm might end this. He reached up to rub her tight folds, pushing his tongue as deeply inside of her as he could. He kissed and sucked those delicate pale lips, all while savoring the sweet nectar pouring forth.

At last, her thighs quivered around him and her sex covered his face with sweet satisfaction. She roared incomprehensibly with overwhelming delight and climbed off Sidrophus' face. With his head finally free to move, he looked to the side and was struck with shock by what he saw.

Almost a dozen other women of all sizes and colors had emerged from the forest, all of them shedding their robes of fawn skin and setting their wooden clubs to the ground. Some wore wreaths of ivy, others wore wreaths of vine leaves, and a rare few wore crowns adorned with bull horns.

Sidrophus desperately tried to rise, but the blonde and the black-haired woman held his hands to the ground. Meanwhile, the redhead got to her knees and moaned loudly as she lowered herself onto his erect and meaty shaft. She bounced up and down on his cock as her two sisters held his wrists and pressed his hands between their legs. He tried clenching his hands into fists, but the women delighted in rubbing their excited pearls against the ridges of his knuckles.

Though his mind grew hazy with the red-haired woman's humping, that was before the other women joined in. An olive-skinned beauty and a full-figured brunette had kneeled down to start licking on his nipples. Those two women were in turn being orally pleasured from behind by girls on their backs. The women at his hands had two gorgeous attendants apiece to rub and suckle their erect nipples as they continued grinding against Sidrophus' knuckles. The red-haired woman riding him cried out as a curvaceous brunette crowned with bull horns kneeled behind her and reached to tease her small yet responsive breasts. Finally, another nubile girl – this one with dark blonde hair – kneeled down to tenderly kiss his mouth. Her breath tasted like fine wine.

Sidrophus was lost in an ocean of sexual ecstasy. He could hear nothing but blissful moans and cries of every pitch. He could see nothing but the writhing naked flesh of young and beautiful women. His senses were so flooded with arousal of every kind that his climax came easily. The redhead sighed sweetly at the feel of his warm semen filling her womb.

The ladies all switched positions in an instant as the redhead dismounted. The women at his nipples traded places with the beauties who had been pleasuring them previously. Another redhead – this one freckled and wearing bull horns – sat upon his face and thrust her hips while the blonde and the black-haired woman licked her jiggling chest. His fists were taken by another two women, each of whom were pleasured by the roving hands of their own two attendants.

His limp and wet cock was taken by the dark blonde nubile, though she shared it with a rose-lipped beauty. The bull-horned brunette was content to sit nearby and furiously rub her own sex as she watched and groaned in pleasure at the sight. All the while, Sidrophus felt two soft hands wander all over his most sensitive parts. He could feel two experts sets of lips and tongues as they wandered over his tip, his head, his shaft, his balls, his taint, and even his anus. They greedily sucked and kissed and licked him to the insatiable content of their hearts.

Ah, but his phallus had grown tender from so much rampant use. His cock was so sensitive that its further arousal shook Sidrophus to his core. He moaned and grunted and screamed with abandon into the soft pink flesh of the bull-horned redhead atop him, which led her to cry out in great joy.

When Sidrophus's cock had once again reached its full strength, the bull-horned brunette took it for herself. The brunette took him completely into her sopping wet channel as she straddled him and thrust her hips with beastly strength. The dark blonde nubile and the rose-lipped beauty, meanwhile, had taken to suckling the brunette's ample chest as they reached down to pleasure themselves.

Sidrophus was desperately gasping for breath. His manhood was being pressed and rubbed to such an extent that Sidrophus worried it would come off. Every muscle in his body had seized up with so much pleasure for so long, and every moment without relief was agony. It was a sweet yet unbearable form of torture such as the prince had never heard of.

***

It was at that moment when Tythoros awoke. He nudged Callioa from sleep.

"Callioa?" he whispered. "Do you hear that?"

Her senses returned slowly as she awoke. "I do," she replied. "Though I do not know the sound."

In truth, the ceaseless lovemaking around Sidrophus had become so intense that the excited screams and blissful moans had reached the ears of his companions. They followed the noises to the clearing, where they saw Sidrophus' curled blonde hair under the mass of writhing nubile flesh.

"That looks like Sidrophus on the ground," Tythoros pointed out. "How on earth did he get into this?"

"Perhaps we should leave him here," said Callioa, dryly. "He seems to be having a good time."

Before Tythoros could answer, a soft voice came to his ear. He knew at once that it could only be the whisper of a divine Olympian.

"Do not approach them!" said the great counsellor Athena. "These are the wild Maenads of Thrace. No weapon can wound them, and fire does not burn them. They mean to tear your friend apart after they have had their satisfaction with him, and their sharp teeth will rend your mortal bones as well if you interfere blindly."

Tythoros motioned for Callioa to hold back. She looked on with some confusion as Tythoros spoke with the goddess.

"Great Athena," he asked, "how can I save Sidrophus without confronting the monsters around him?"