Thelenor also tells of the grief that grips the entire family when an elf boy suddenly finds himself transformed into a black stag. They know then that the curse has had him marked ever since birth, and they mourn because they know what his future will hold: loneliness, longing, sorrow. A forlorn quest for a man, a human man, who'd willingly share his wandering life, and of the craving that forces the elf to try again and again, makes him hope despite crushing guilt that maybe this time...
Thelenor clings to Bareth tightly and he rocks the trembling elf in his arms, shushes him gently. "Guilt?" "It's no use deciding that I will not do it, ever again," Thelenor sobs, tripping on his words. "I've decided that, every time. After that beautiful dark young man went mad before we ever reached the Passage. And the other one, he flew into such mindless panic when he realized he'd been transformed into a deer that he ran himself to death -- oh, I tried to stop him but he was totally mad with fear -- and the hunter, the one who tried to kill me, he never let me say a word, just told me to go away. I had to watch him go and I knew he was going to die, because he'd been changed already. I've killed every one of them, it's my fault, don't you understand? I've decided after every one that I'd never never ever call another man, that I'd sooner die than see it again..."
"Hush!" Bareth kisses Thelenor until the shivers subside, whispers into his soft skin and rough hair. "Don't think of them any more. We're here now, aren't we?"
"Yes." It's a puff of warm air on Bareth's skin and he can hear Thelenor's smile. "And you are my mate."
"But how did you know that I wasn't going to reject you after all?" Bareth mumbles, sleep creeping at last over him. "I hadn't decided yet."
"Yes you had." Thelenor presses still a little closer. "In your heart you had chosen to stay -- or else you'd have kissed a stag."
Bareth chuckles. He doesn't really understand it, and besides, this is all just a strange dream anyway. But he rather likes this dream.
His eyes fall slowly closed and he hugs Thelenor tight.
*** It looks like it has once been something made by human hands: a tent, or perhaps a lean-to. Rotten poles have collapsed into a heap, decomposed branches of fir that once served as the roof are barely recognizable any more. Animals have found shelter here, burrowed underneath it, maybe even hid food here. Beside it there's a hole in the ground, thickly overgrown by moss. On some stones it's still possible to detect the black soot left by a fire.
A wet muzzle almost touches the stones, sniffs at the faint smell of long extinguished flames. The black stag raises its head, turns slowly as if surveying the place, deep in thought. Ears flick, a forked hoof scrapes the ground.
Another dark shape emerges from the woods and walks to the first, long bodies pressing close. Its head tilts so that huge antlers clack gently together and the animals rub shoulder to shoulder, necks bending gracefully apart so as to keep their crowns from snagging on each other.
The second stag lets out a low barking sound and leaps forward. Its mate follows and together they vanish once more into the deepening shadows.
Sybaris
By Jay Lygon Isus, the priest at the Temple of Zeus, went to great lengths to prove to the people gathered in the town center that the drawing was fair. He exaggerated his motions as he placed tokens representing the sons of the houses of Phokis into the black glazed bowl. Yet when he reached his hand in to pull the name of the sacrifice, his eyes locked on mine and I knew -- knew! -- that I would be given to the monster Sybaris for her blood feast.
I would die. The Priest would have his revenge. Perhaps I shouldn't have mocked his desire. The thought of those blue veined hands on my flesh made me ill though. I didn't masturbate to visions of saggy man-tits wobbling on the gray-haired chest of a slender, mincing priest.
Isus made it clear that he wanted me. So many men in Phokis did. They tried to seduce me with wine and trinkets. I knew my worth. My full lips and beautiful body were not for the ugly or the old. The married women of Phokis tried to touch me, too. They were revolting creatures. In their secretive feminine ways they were all Sybaris. They lured men away from fraternal love and sucked the life force away. No woman would ever lure me into that marital hell.
From the moment Isus shouted my name, the city of Phokis could deny me nothing. I demanded their sons as attendants. I chose only those with the softest mouths and the biggest cocks. They bathed me in the Temple's ritual pools. Warmed water rinsed me clean. Burning bundles of laurel and rosemary purified the air I breathed. Down my neck, over my smooth chest, between my thighs, over my hardening cock, into my receptive anus, my attendants massaged oil onto my skin. I reclined and let them touch me everywhere.
I sucked their erections with drowsy affection as I marveled at the variety of their cocks. Some flushed angry red at the head while others remained bland beige. One swung hard to the right, another curved for the sky. They grasped my hair as they ground into my face. They spurted loads of hot, thick come onto my tongue and down my chin. Some came with quiet concentration, others grunted, one whispered oaths and curses. I tasted each one. I filled my nose with their scents. It was glorious.
On the day of my death, I welcomed each of those precious dicks into my well oiled ass as Isus watched from behind a screen. I made sure to let sounds of my rapture reach his hair-prickled ears. The cream of Phokis society left their offerings inside me. After they deposited the last treasured pearl between my ass cheeks, my attendants poured perfumed oils into my black, curly hair. They slicked my bronzed skin with kisses and caresses. A plain white kilt of fine linen was wrapped around me and a chaplet of wild olive leaves rested in my hair as if I, the doomed, were victorious.
Perhaps I would be. I blamed the city for my fate and I would have my revenge; Sybaris would have a taste of the males of Phokis. My sphincter tightened in malicious glee as it guarded that sacred pool. I hoped I would live long enough to feel the flicker of her tongue against my anus. Their musky flavors might pique her appetite for real flesh. Would she suck their seed from my ass? I hoped to feel her tongue delve deep into me to take my secrets. For that I would allow a female touch me.
Isus insisted he lead me to the cave of the monster. I smiled lazily but hoped to keep my senses sharp enough that the priest could not take advantage of my opiated calm to take his pleasure. As we ascended the foothills of Parnassus, the goat tending girls, wild as Maenads that serve Dionysus, laughed at me. They threw small stones and mocked my beauty. They taunted me with warnings of the blood sucking creature living in the cave high on the mountain. Thinking me virginal, they described in blunt detail the pleasures and delights Sybaris would take with my body before she fed. I lowered my eyes to the goat path we climbed. My thick, black lashes fluttered against my cheeks. The girls sighed in lustful unison. I allowed the pure white kilt to slip off my slicked skin into the dust at my feet. I let them see my stirring erection, my hard dark brown nipples, my perfect buttocks.
Isus scolded me, scolded them. I walked on, free of everything except the chaplet resting in my hair. At the top of a small rise I cast a glance at him over my shoulder. My recently reamed ass held his full attention. I squeezed my buttocks around my secret revenge. Did Isus truly want Sybaris to know his flavor, too? I laughed and scurried up the path, my luscious ass always just beyond his reach like the fruits hanging over Tantalus' ever-hungry mouth in Hades.
The track was steep. Strewn with sand and lose rocks, it was a tough climb. Isus puffed as he ascended. I could smell his exertion through the dust coating the inside of my nose.
I followed a tenuous stream as it meandered across our path. At a sharp turn was a small grove. Gnarled olive trees offered shade. I sank down to my knees beside the spring and brought water to my lips.
Isus scrambled behind me. He put hands on my hips. I shoved him away. "Never. Sybaris will feast on my flesh tonight. I will go to the afterlife still young, still beautiful. The rest of your days you will hunger for me and I will not be there to slake your thirst."
"If you let me touch you, I will find a way to spare your life."
Pathetic old man. "I'd rather die."
A hearty laugh filled the air. Isus and I jumped at the booming voice. At first I did not see the man in the shade of another tree. I saw sandals, and then hairy legs. I thought he might be a brother of one of the goat girls, but his clothes were far too fine. My gaze traveled up his thick thighs as Isus bumped against me. The stranger wore a leather kilt that lifted in front as he leisurely stroked his cock.
My heart and groin clutched. I blushed and lowered my gaze. He was a man built as a gift from the gods. Not tall, but massive everywhere
- neck, arms, thighs, dick... His bared arms and chest were covered in hair that glinted gold and red under the harsh midday sun.
"Well met. Care to join me?" He spoke with a foreigner's accent. His voice rumbled like the dark clouds before a storm.
Did I care to join him? I wanted to curl against that strong chest and grasp the hairs in my fingers. I wanted to lap the head of his cock and tease the length of his shaft with slurping tongue strokes. Isus stepped between us. "We must be at the mouth of the cave before sunset."
Jealous, doddering fool! Sybaris could wait to feed. She would seek us out if we did not go to her.
I dared a quick glance at the stranger. My cheeks burned like a bride enduring bawdy toasts. He smiled at me as if he guessed my thoughts. My cock gave me away. It reached for him.
He glanced up the mountainside. "What waits in the cave?" Clearly a stranger if he didn't know of the famous lamia Sybaris of Mount Kriphis. He rose. I saw the full majesty of his body. A sword swung from his hip. A hero. Precum glistened from the tip of my cock. I felt like one of those girls in town who cream between their legs when the legends pass through.
"A monster waits in the cave," Isus hissed. "Sybaris can take any shape. She seduces our young men and feeds off their blood and flesh."
"You're a sacrifice," the hero spoke to me. Too lust addled to trust my tongue, I nodded. The sun beat down on my anointed head. The drugs they gave me made my head ache. I don't know if it was the heat, the opium, or the man, but my stomach flopped.
He plucked the chaplet from my hair. Isus reached for it in vain. The hero lifted my chin with his thick finger. My eyes were still drawn down not to his feet, but the thick patch of curls just under his navel.
I could smell his scent. Under sweat and dirt he smelled of power and heroic deeds. I wanted to bury my face against him and drink his power. Those arms would be like bronze bands to pin me to his bed. "Look at me," he commanded. After my ass, my eyes were easily my best feature. I knew how to use those large brown orbs and luxurious lashes. How many men in Phokis lost all reason when my doe's eyes gazed at them? I slowly brought them to his face so that he could savor the moment. For added emphasis I bit my bottom lip gently. I made myself tremble against his touch.
"How was he chosen?" Now the hero addressed Isus.
"His name was chosen from among the sons of Phokis."
"Randomly," I said but I let my gaze slide to Isus so that the bitterness in my tone had a target.
"Then it won't matter if I take his place." The hero placed the chaplet on his head. I sank to my knees. Before him I would prostate myself. I leaned forward to kiss his cock.
Isus pulled me away before I could take the swollen godhead into my mouth. I cursed.
"He was chosen."
I shook off the Priest's hand and rested my head on the hero's thigh. The muscles were hard under my soft hands. He stroked my hair. I showed Isus a nasty grin.
"If I face Sybaris, you will have the youth." Isus' greedy eyes went to me.
I buried my face in the hero's groin. "Don't leave me with Isus. He only wants to rape me." I wrapped my arms around the girth of his thigh. My fingers lightly brushed his heavy ball sack. Isus ignored me. "Who should I say faces Sybaris? They will ask in town." My hero peeled my hands away. He dressed in leather body armor. "Eurybaros, son of Euphemos. The monster Sybaris is in the cave?"
Isus and I nodded.
"Then I shall see this monster of yours."
"She will try to tempt you."
He checked his sword. "I will withstand her advances."
Not another glance in my direction! He strode up the hill as if the steep grade was nothing to him. He didn't even give me a parting kiss. I crossed my arms over my chest and climbed on a boulder to sulk. Isus tried to lure me down but I would not be moved. I refused to watch Eurybaros go to certain doom on my behalf and I refused to return to Phokis.
"We shouldn't stay. She isn't always sated by one man," Isus whined as he settled into the shade. Gnats hovered over the shallow pools of water in the stream.
"She would be sated by him. Anyone would." I bit my fingernail and glowered down at Isus. As the afternoon cooked the air around us, the old priest fell into slumber. I seized the opportunity to scramble up the hill after Eurybaros. The turning, twisting trail confused my sense of direction and the sun blistered my shoulders as if to punish me for abandoning the priest.
I stopped to rest several times. Overhead, a carrion-eater glided in patient circles against a cerulean blue sky.
The paths were narrower near the summit. Low growing oregano and other herbs sparsely dotted the rocky peak in patches of silvery green where the goats had yet to graze. Crushing the pungent leaves under my nose, I was for a moment transported back to my parent's home. The verdant scent reminded me of food and luxury. With Sybaris either sated or destroyed, I could return to that. Instead, I climbed.
The sun neared the horizon, spreading wide rays that glowed yellow and pink light on the underside of distant puffy clouds. Far to the east, Nyx spread her silent wings across the sky like a mother pulling a warm blanket over her sleeping child.
Sybaris would soon wake to feed. The peak was a hard, near vertical, climb. My soft hands were scraped and bruised from clinging to rocks. Blood clotted on my knee. When I saw the stygian darkness of the cave rise before me, I ducked down behind boulders.
Bones of humans and animals were strewn across the ground between rocks and stunted shrubs. Small rib bones were decorated with leathered flesh. The remains of Sybaris' meals crunched under my feet and shattered to dust.
Far distant I heard the bleat of goats. Before the cave, even the breeze fell silent. I rested against the great rock until I regained my breath. The kilt would have been nice. No matter how much I cleared away, there were more sharp rocks to bite into my flesh when I tried to sit. I kneeled instead. Ants found my legs. I crushed them between my thumbnail and forefinger.
Eurybaros stood at the edge of the earth's great gaping mouth but did not enter the foul darkness. His shoulders were wide and thickly corded with muscle. Unlike some heroes I could name -- Perseus, Theseus
- Eurybaros did not run to fat. He was solid. I remembered the feel of his hairy thigh under my hands and my cock swelled with desire.
I wanted to call out his name. Before I could, I heard Sybaris.
"What have they brought me?" She was delighted with him, the monstrous whore. She clapped her hands together and laughed. I covered my ears so that the sound wouldn't drive me mad.
She was unhealthy pale. Her wide lips were stained brown with old blood. Long teeth pressed against her mouth. I imagined that her breath stank of coppery death. Like the wild goat girls on the lower slopes, her hair was a tumble of dark curls. "Aren't you just lovely?" She advanced on Eurybaros in what was, I supposed, a sensuous dance. Her hips undulated under her clothes like waves on the ocean. She drew her hands from her thighs, up her belly, through the cleft of her cleavage and into her hair. She fixed her hypnotic gaze on Eurybaros and slithered to him.
Eurybaros did not react.
Her eyes were like the fires of Hades, dark but smoldering with wicked knowledge. There was laughter on her lips but carnal hunger gave her face a feral cast.
"Take off your clothes." Her voice was low. I grasped for a kilt I no longer wore
. Shaking my head, I cleared her poisonous words from my brain.
He stripped away his armor. I wanted to call out a warning to him, but he held his sword ready in his hand while he disrobed.
I noticed that he wasn't hard. So did Sybaris. With a practiced pout, she melded into the aspect of another woman. Her skin darkened to the color of the night sky. Her hair curled tight like the Africans, but I had never seen an African with skin that dark. Before my eyes she went from slender to round. Her breasts swelled to offer plump nipples, hard silver coins so ripe that even I wanted to grasp them and press my lips to their font.
Eurybaros held his ground. She transformed her skin to the color of sheep's milk, and her hair to a shade like autumn grasses. She went from frail to tall and buff in an ever changing offering of delights that no mortal man had ever refused.
Sybaris, according to legend, never attacked. She liked to play with her food. She wanted it to beg for her lethal kiss. I sucked in a breath when I saw that her eyes were pale, pale blue -- an unnatural shade, like a goat. For a brief moment those eyes flickered to my hiding place. I worried that she might smell me. I held my breath as fear stabbed through me. Even when Isus named me as the sacrifice I wasn't able to truly believe I would die. That certainty fled like a flock of startled doves before a housecat. My throat was raw and dry.
Eurybaros shifted his stance. She turned back to him. "What do you like? I can be any lover you desire." She became a creature with skin the color of sand and long straight black hair. Her eyes were odd, not quite round anymore, slanted. It was a lovely aspect. Even I, who have no appetite for girls, found her slim hips and small breasts lovely. My heart ached. I knew eventually Sybaris would find an aspect Eurybaros desired. Then I would know what woman he lusted for and I could weep for him in the dark as I squatted over her victim's remains.
What did he dream of while he stroked his thick cock in the shade? Big breasts? Wide hips? A refined girl like those in the towns, or a hellion like the sheep herders? Did he have a wife that he loved? A woman he liked to fuck?
Myths Page 15