One Night in Mytilene

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A late entry in the One Night in XXX story challenge.
3k words
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Mytilene is an ancient city, founded in the 11th century BC, in mythology by the Amazons, and is today the capital city on the island of Lesbos. Very close to modern day Turkey, and ancient Troy. Homer recorded that the Amazon queen, Penthesilia, fought with the Trojans to defend their city. Queen Penthesilia brought twelve Amazon warriors with her to Troy, and after distinguishing herself on the battlefield, she comes to battle with Achilles, by whom she was killed.

Achilles removes the helmet of the warrior he killed, discovers that she is a woman, and falls in love. Thersites, another Greek warrior, admonishes Achilles for having fallen in love, at which point Achilles slays him. Achilles then leaves the Trojan War for a time, to travel to Lesbos to do penance, before returning to the wars and the overthrow of Troy.

The founding of the city of Mytilene comes several years after the Trojan War was over, and our tale takes place roughly two centuries after the fall of Troy.

The "One Night in XXX" series set the story parameters as the events of one day and night, in a place that could be either mythical or real; Mytilene is a real place. The contest time has passed, not that there was any particular prize in it, but the story came to my mind this morning.

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Theonitis awoke to a throbbing skull, and groggily realized that he was a prisoner, bound with stout leather bindings. He tried to open my eyes, and was met by searing pain in the right one, but managed to pry open the left through layers of dried gunk, blood he guessed, to take in my surroundings. The chamber was poorly lit, and the straw they've put me down in made it hard to see. Still, he could tell: this isn't a good .

If this was a prison cell, it's one without a door, not that the lack of bars mattered. His arms tied behind him gave him no leverage to stand up, his legs bound as they were gave him no way to spread them to rise without his arms. His breastplate and helmet were gone, as was the light leather padding he wore underneath, but he retained his coarse cotton undertunic and breeches. His bronze greaves were gone, as were his sandals and arm bracers. His weapons belt, holding his short sword and knife, was gone, and his trusty battle spear, well, that had been broken early on.

Theonitis was not a wealthy man; there was no ransom that could be demanded from his family for his return. Only the great warriors, the leaders and the kings of men, would be spared, and the Hoplites certainly didn't count in their numbers. That he might have been left for dead on the battlefield was more probable a result than be taken prisoner.

"He's awake. Wash him," was the command that he heard, a few seconds before he was dashed with water from a bucket. Had his mouth not been closed, he might have been drowned by that action. As it was, the searing pain in his right eye caused him to curl up and scream away from the water which hit him in the face.

The cold bronze of a knife tickled his shins, though it was the side of the blade and not the edge, as his leg bonds were roughly cut away. "On your feet, Hoplite," he heard, in a strangely accented Greek that sounded as though it was uttered by a woman, though a woman with a lower voice than normal. Rough, calloused hands grabbed him by both arms, and he was pulled upward, and he scrambled to get his legs under him. Finally seeing the face of the soldier who was issuing the commands, he saw that it was indeed a woman, though taller and broader than he was used to seeing, certainly not one of the fair maidens of Athens.

Still despite her size, Theonitis towered above her. At six pygmē tall, Theonitis towered a head above most other Greek soldiers, and his full four talent of weight was easily a talent more than the average Hoplite. He could see the lead soldier giving him an appraising look before uttering a simple, "He'll do."

Theonitis' pride took over, and as he was being hustled way by the two soldiers at his sides, he gathered his feet under himself and marched on his own. Wherever he was being led, he was going to walk with dignity, and not be dragged.

He realized that execution, at least immediate execution, wasn't in the cards. If they had wanted him dead, it would have been easier to simply slit his throat while he lay unconscious on the battlefield. Perhaps the Amazons -- for Amazons they were, he knew by now -- would put him to heavy manual labor, his strength apparent to any with eyes. The strongest man in his phalanx, an epiletkoi, one of the few professional soldiers chosen for their strength and prowess in battle among the primarily citizen militia of Greek soldiers, he'd won his better equipment in games of chance, strength and skill, and was as unquestioned a leader among the soldiers as one lowborn could be.

Yes, he'd make an excellent laborer, but that would mean that he would be a slave. Still, at least a slave got to live; there's nothing as worthless as a dead slave.

 

The march took a while, as wherever this place was, it seemed a fair sized place, certainly no village even though it paled in comparison to Athens. The buildings were almost all wooden or mud huts, but, as he raised his head to walk tall and proud, Theonitis could see buildings of stone towering above the single-story residences lining the street as he passed.

Eventually he came to a stone structure, with broad steps leading to the elevated first floor. This was clearly a throne room of some sort, ruder than the palace in Athens, but grand enough in its own way. A woman, perhaps the Queen, sat on what might have been a throne, but was raised only a single step above the floor. Standing and then descending to the regular floor, she spoke in a haughty voice, not to him, but to the guards around him. "How came this Hoplite to be captured? His eye is injured, but that is no disabling wound. Did he surrender?"

"No, my queen. We found him unconscious on the field of battle."

"Speak, Hoplite. How came you to be in a swoon?"

"My queen," he replied, being careful to observe royal courtesy, "I think I was struck in the head by a hammer of war, from behind, and only my helmet saved my skull from being smashed. I do not know how my eye was injured, it was not the last I can remember."

"You are an epiletkoi, one of the chosen ones." It did not appear to be a question.

"Yes, my queen."

"Take him away, and get him cleaned up. He will suffice."

Theonitis was hustled away, still confused as to what was being done to him, when he was led to a bathhouse. There were at least ten Amazons therein, too many for even one of his strength to overpower and escape, and the bindings on his arms were cut away. Roughly, he was ordered to strip, and then to bathe in the wooden tub of steaming water. A coarse cloth and primitive soap were given to him, while the women soldiers observed his form. One soldier removed, none to gently, the bandage wrapping his head to shield his right eye -- or what remained of it, he now surmised -- to scrape away the dried blood.

His body scraped clean, and his eye newly bandaged, Theonitis felt refreshed, ready for battle again. But he was still naked and disarmed, while he was still surrounded by women with swords and spears, ready to gut him at the slightest attempt to escape. Handed a clean, long tunic, Theonitis dressed himself, the hem of the garment hanging half way down his thighs. Another woman entered, carrying his old sandals. "We have none here that will fit your huge feet, Hoplite," was all that she said as matter-of-factly as she could.

The sun was westering as he was led out of the bathhouse and back toward what passed for the palace. Once there, a quick foot bath washed away the dust of the street, and Theonitis was led to a smallish dining room. "Eat, Hoplite, for you shall need your strength tonight."

"I don't understand; what is to be expected of me."

"You don't know?" The soldier laughed. "There is but one thing that a man can do that a woman cannot, and that will be your task this night."

Suddenly it came to Theonitis: with no men living among the Amazons, men had to be taken for use as breeding stock! This could be a very interesting life after all.

"Are you to be my mate for this evening?" he asked.

It was with no friendly tome that the soldier said, "You are not for me, nor do I wish that you were. My sister-soldiers are enough for me for now, and we simply tolerate men when they are needed. For me, I have no desire for this, though I will do my duty when it is required of me." With that, she fell silent again, and the stern look remained on her face.

Theonitis fell to his repast with gusto, preparing himself for a long night. It had been many weeks since he had had a woman, and did not like the things that some of the men did among themselves to ease their lack of women when in the field.

Would it be the queen, he wondered. She had given him the appraisal, and seemed pleased enough, though he had not then guessed why he was being evaluated.

As his supper was ending, he raised the cup to the soldiers guarding him, and the leader then said, "Enough, he is ready. Take him to Antiopa for his first using."

First using? That sounded promising to the Hoplite!

Theonitis was led to a small chamber, furnished with a bed, a small table and a ewer of clean water; rather than a door, only a heavy curtain maintained any privacy from the hallway. Only a few minutes later, a tall woman entered, and then she disrobed quickly, without pleasantries. "Remove your garment and lay down," she commanded, brooking no dissent.

Well, why not, he thought. This lady seemed in no way eager for this coupling, nor did she act as though she might enjoy herself, but what the Hades, that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy himself.

As the woman, Antiopa he assumed, climbed astride him and lowered herself onto his manhood, he realized: she had just enjoyed herself, as it was clear that someone had used her mouth on Antiopa just before she entered the chamber. It made sense: if Antiopa wasn't pleased at the thought of sex with a man, she'd need something to get her wet enough for sex to happen.

This was about as poor a sex as Theonitis had ever had. The man in him tried to make things good for the woman, but she just wasn't interested. She wanted, or was commanded to want, his semen in her, to get her with child, and that was it. His attempts to hold off his own release seemed to be for naught; Antiopa didn't want this duty of hers to last any longer than necessary, so he quit holding off, and released himself into her.

Antiopa stood up, holding her left hand underneath herself to retain the semen inside of her, and ordered Theonitis from the chamber. The last thing he saw was her laying back down and elevating her hips, to increase the chances of pregnancy. Yeah, he had gotten off, he thought, but he could have had just as much fun using his hand.

As he left the chamber, two soldiers appeared, and led him to the next chamber. If this is all that breeding is, it's not going to be that enjoyable, he thought.

But this time, the chamber was that of the queen!

"Good evening, soldier. I trust that you enjoyed your time with Antiopa?"

"My queen, I did what was required of me, but I do not believe that your lady was happy to be there."

"No, she wasn't, but Antiopa is a strong woman who knows her duty, yet was injured in battle in such a way that combat is no longer for her. You did notice her limp, did you not?"

Quite honestly, I hadn't. "And you, my queen?"

"I do not particularly like men, but I can enjoy them as necessary. I am not Antiopa; you may try to please your queen!"

With that, he strode over to her, and pushed the top of her tunic gently off her shoulders. Unlike Antiopa's deadpan expression, the queen of the Amazons looked up and smiled at me; she was intent on having some fun herself. When he lowered his head to kiss her lips, the queen responded warmly.

That the queen was enjoying herself became readily apparent. While Theonitis could smell her arousal, her pubic hair was dry enough looking that he did not believe she had used one of her women to get her aroused and ready for sex. And he realized, clinically enough, that the previous encounter was simply meant to enable him to prolong what he was to do with the queen.

And he decided to surprise her, and do to the queen what her female lovers did, using his hands and his mouth. It was a familiarity that the queen could enjoy, and it was something at which he was good. At least the maidens of Athens thought he did well at it.

Apparently, so did the queen. The climax to which he sought to bring her? It washed over her hard and fast, her hands clutching at the bed linens, her hips pushed up hard against his face, and incoherent sounds coming from her lips.

When she climax was over, he slid up in the bed beside her, holding her as gently as he could, the way he had held women in the past. But this was not just any woman; she was the warrior queen of a warrior race, and if she could appreciate a man every now and then, she was no dainty thing. She was hard and aggressive and could match him strength for strength. Though he was uncommonly tall at four pygmē, the queen was a tall woman herself, taller than most of the male soldiers from his phalanx, and broader than many of them. He could easily picture her with a shield on one arm and a spear in her hand.

Once the queen had recovered, she began to use her own strength, wrestling Theonitis aggressively, pushing him down onto the couch on which they lay. But the Hoplite was having none of it, and pushed back, raising himself above his queen and then entering her with one long, smooth stroke. He knew that he was good for a long bout of love, and was determined to give it to her as best he could. In the back of his mind, he wondered: if he could do this well enough, could he become the queen's consort? Happy breeding stock on an island full of women?

But, whatever his fantasies, the queen quickly drove them from his mind: there was too much happening in the present for him to divide his attention. The queen had wrapped her lags around his hips, using her muscles to urge him to greater efforts; her fingernails, though short as befit a warrior queen, still dug into his back.

His strength enthralled the queen, who had never known such from a man before. Soldiers Theonitis' size and power were simply never captured alive, not unless they were so wounded in battle that their strength no longer mattered. The power of his thrusts, not slamming into her but with a rolling motion of his hips when he bottomed out inside her, was thrilling her to the core, and her desire became a lust, which became a desperate need. Rushing forward like a charging war-stallion, in enveloped her, it drove her to ultimate wantonness, it consumed her very soul, until she once again erupted, clutching Theonitis like a she-bear trying to maul him, forcing her to try to get even closer to him though there was no space between them. Her mouth devoured his, her eyes were shut so tightly that they hurt, and as her hips once again surged in heat, the Hoplite lost all control and roared out his own climax, emptying himself as deeply within her as he could.

 

The sun was shining into the queen's chamber as Theonitis awoke. He had enjoyed the charms of many of the maidens of Athens before, his size and obvious virility drawing in the girls -- and the occasional married woman -- to him almost effortlessly, but none of them compared to the love and lust of the queen of the Amazons. They had almost literally fought a battle in bed, testing each other, each wanting to conquer the other, and both seemingly having emerged the victors.

He knew that he had done a magnificent job with the queen, and a smile crept over his face, as he wondered, again, could the queen of the Amazons really have a consort. A consort? Could he actually become a king of the Amazons?

The queen awoke, slowly, languorously, stretching like a cat, a smile on her face, a look of intense happiness on her face. Theonitis took in her smile, and returned his own, as he began to reach for her once more.

And then came the sharp pain, as her dagger flashed and slit his throat. His smile turned to shock, as he flopped back on the bed, the vision in his remaining eye clouding as he heard her beautiful voice.

"You were magnificent, and I hope that our breeding took, but there is no room among the Amazons for a man. I hope that you enjoyed your last night on earth, to make your trip to Hades better.

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5 Comments
soul71soul71over 4 years ago

You've been at this for how long now and this is the best you can do? I weep for those that call themselves writers, this was just terrible.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 5 years ago
You took the words right out of my mouth.

I wondered whether you'd changed person of the narration. Lots of "me" and "my" mixed in with the third person narrative, too. And things like "When she climax was over." Surprising in you, especially in such a short story.

tkh3nkey2110tkh3nkey2110almost 5 years ago
WOW! What a shock

The surprise story made the whole story. To think that I almost didn't read it after reading the preface. I'm glad that I did. A 4* rating.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 5 years ago
OMG!

What can I say? Didn't expect that. Great vignette, RR. Thanks.

ReedRichardsReedRichardsalmost 5 years agoAuthor
I see that I made many tense errors.

I wrote this in third person, went back and tried to make it first person, decided that didn’t work and went back to return it to third person, and missed correcting some things. Sorry about that.

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