Olympic Champion
Olympic Champion
A fantasy tale by Ivor Sukwell of some topicality perhaps, but set long ago when men made no secret of their natural liking for boys.
Some readers may well observe that in the Olympics of three millennia past, the boys' events preceded those of the men, but that historical accuracy has been dispensed with for the sake of this tale.
In those long ago days when Greeks were Greeks and boys could be boys as Greeks liked boys to be, a tale such as this may well have been written for the amusement and education of boys – though if such were they have not survived, or if they have are hidden from the eyes of all but the most qualified of scholars – but in our modern and enlightened age laws forbid that they should be read by boys, and also by some who have aged beyond being boys.
Should any such have happened upon this tale by chance, thinking to read of the exploits of a Gold Medal winner in Golf or synchronised swimming, pass on at once and read no more, for this is no such tale, but one of the delights and pleasures to be found by man and boy when together they share a naked bed.
`Nifty', as regular readers well know, publishes many such stories for your enjoyment, many of greater worth than this poor offering, and it does so without demanding payment, but not so without cost.
A Greek would doubtless make some offering to a God for the gift of a boy for his bed; might perhaps you consider some offering to `Nifty' for the gift of boy tales to read?
The adrenaline was still coursing through Hermidas' body; of all the Olympic olive crowns the one for the Stadia was the most prized, a gruelling sprint of slightly more than two hundred long paces, the man who won that had to have speed, energy and endurance. True, the Hoplite race, over the same distance but run wearing helmet and greaves and carrying the large, heavy hoplite shield, required enormous stamina, but that was a race involving the careful nurturing of the body's resources, saving enough for the final sprint, mirroring its origins as a battle tactic – no point in arriving exhausted at the enemy's phalanx, you had to be able to fight when you got there. The Stadia was a flat out sprint, it didn't matter if a runner collapsed, panting and exhausted at the finish, all that mattered was that he got there first.
Hermidas had got there first, beating a Corinthian by three full strides, a magnificent victory, a reward for three whole years of relentless training and abstinence. Now he was Olympic Champion and the first thing he intended to do was have a fuck.
Hermidas had not been completely without for all three years of his training of course, all the philosophers agreed that complete abstinence would upset the natural balance between mind and body, and an athlete needed perfect balance if he was to perform his best, but for the last three months, Hermidas had deprived himself of those natural needs, in part because he did not wish to waste vital energy, and in greater part because he knew that, as an Olympic Champion, he would be free to fuck where he wished.
Now he relaxed under the careful administrations of a bath boy, one of an age to be not yet quite a youth, who carefully applied the honed edge bronze to Hermidas' splendid thighs, scraping away oil and dirt and sweat.
The boy, like the others in attendance at the baths, was comely enough and of a suitable age to excite desire in Hermidas – the baths, like many if not all such establishments was also a boy brothel, and no eyebrows would be raised in surprise had Hermidas chosen to fuck him or another, but Hermidas had intentions elsewhere.
He had no objections to slave boy flesh, he'd made use of such many times before, but he was an Olympic Champion now and had his sights set on some son of much higher status than a slave.
An almost youth of noble or near noble birth was what Hermidas craved for, and as the winner of an olive crown, he had no doubts that he would get one.
The small city of Olympia was crammed beyond overflowing as it always was for six weeks every four years and boys there were in plenty for a man to choose from, but Hermidas wanted only the most noble, the best, a boy who if Hermidas had not won the Stadia race would not have granted him as much as a look.
He knew already the boys from whom he would make his choice; boys who, like him, had endured weeks of abstinence, so much harder for a boy to do than for a man of twenty two, boys who would, their race completed, throw themselves at a suitable man so that their urgent needs could at last be satisfied. Hermidas would make his choice from the runners in the Boys' Stadia, boys he had observed intently for the last four weeks.
The Stadia, for boys as well as men, like all Olympic events was run naked – even in the Hoplite race helmet and greaves alone were worn – and Hermidas had opportunity in plenty to observe with care the delights the boys had to offer.
The Stadia for boys was for all under the age of eighteen and over thirteen, and the winner would be bound to be an older youth and those held no interest for Hermidas. True there were splendid bodies to admire, but Hermidas was concerned with those of lesser years, boys who ran with no hope or expectation of winning the race, but ran for the experience, the hopeful intention of maybe winning in four years' time, and with the desire to outpace and outlast their competing peers, for that would also bring them some small glory.
Many came, and Hermidas had observed them all, admiring lean and lithe naked bodies as the boys trained and ran, and most, all would have to agree, would be a prize for any man's bed, but of them only six would pass the tests set for them to run the race, for though the stadia was wide, it was enough only for twenty boys to run beside others, and of that twenty, fourteen were the fastest of the older youths.
Hermidas knew that were he to win the olive crown he could take his pick of all the boys not chosen to race, each of them would eagerly share the glory of an Olympic Champion's embraces, but Hermidas desired the cream and not the milk, sweet and succulent as that milk may be.
Of the chosen six, two were from Athens, Hermidas' city, and not unknown to him by sight. That both were pretty was beyond denial, and that both had most wealthy fathers was also beyond dispute, but Athens had a code of behaviour that all boys of birth followed without question. They permitted a man only between their tightly closed thighs, would not countenance to be entered in either of the places where a man has wish to enter boys. A boy of Athens would not satisfy Hermidas' need, so that left him with four.
A Theban with wonderful legs, long lean and slender, yet full of muscle; a boy with speed but lacking a little in stamina, he would fade with some quarter of the distance still to run. Such a boy would doubtless seek grateful solace in the arms of a crowned champion, but though Theban boys did not have that code of Athens, they had another that would keep that boy with beautiful legs from the arms of Hermidas.
Theban boys took lovers willingly enough, but their city's code was one man, one boy, and once joined, man and boy remained together till the boy was a boy no longer.
Another was from Corinth, and boys from that city were known far and wide and greatly sought after if one could be found as a slave, for never was it known for any to say a Corinthian boy failed in any way to satisfy, and those boys took lovers as often and as freely as they wished and never demanded that only their thighs be used.
The smallest and slightest of the six was from the city of Pelas, and Hermidas had great doubt that he would even finish. True, the boy was as fast as a lightning bolt thrown by Zeus, but Hermidas never observed the boy run that speed for more than fifty paces before turning to an ambling lope.
He had no hope of winning and Hermidas had many thoughts of his slight and slender body and the pleasures it could provide.
The last was a Spartan boy, loud-mouthed and boasting as Spartans are, but in truth he had much to boast about for he was by far the biggest of those younger boys, full-chested, firm-thighed and more to boast of than other boys hanging between his legs.
A boy from Sparta would not disappoint; all knew that Spartan boys lived in barracks with older boys and warriors from the tender age of ten, and as would be expected in such a case, the younger were the playthings of the older. No Spartan boy could claim to be a virgin.
The Spartan boy would, though, prove an admirable bed companion, could be used roughly and forcibly without complaint, not meekly accept the uses he was put to. A night with a Spartan boy would be a night of rough and tumble, a man's strength obliging a spirited boy to submit.
The Spartan boy would be too good for his peers, need no consolation for defeat in a man's arms and Hermidas moved his thoughts to the Corinthian and the Pelan as the bath boy expertly scraped his body clean and smooth.
All athletes are by nature vain, and Hermidas was no exception; no matter whether they ran, jumped, threw, wrestled or boxed, they trained and performed naked for all to see, each and every one of them a perfect specimen of young manhood, their oiled, gleaming bodies drawing admiration and creating stirrings in the loins of boys. No athlete need fear that he would not attract boys to his bed, and the runners of the Stadia slept alone only when they wished to.
Young men like Hermidas took great care in their appearance, permitting hair to grow only on their heads, though this they did for more than mere vanity. An exercised body emits sweat and that salty moisture gathers most where there is hair, irritating the skin, and how may a man concentrate on his training or his running if he always feels need to scratch?
Athletes also gave thanks and proper sacrifice to Apollo, the fleetest, fastest of all the Gods, and that immortal deity had not a single hair upon his perfect body and attempting to imitate that perfection was not hubris but worship, a worship that the God rewarded.
The bath boy was skilled and careful, performing a task he had performed countless times before; athletes or no, young men and boys all had wish to imitate Apollo not having any desire for the lines of their bodies to be blurred by growths of hair; old men could grow beards on their faces or in that other place if they so wished, not so young men and boys.
Hermidas, his cleaning completed, donned a simple short tunic only, disdaining the wearing of a loin cloth – when he held close the naked body of the boy he chose to console he wished that boy to feel his rising so he would understand that though he had failed in his race, he failed not in being a boy, and even while he sobbed tears of frustrated defeat, as boys are wont to do when they have failed in a task they set themselves, he also would rise in gratitude to the man who held him close.
The Pelian or the Corinthian was the question Hermidas still had to answer. Corinthian boys were famed throughout the civilised world for their skills in a bed, many claiming that they equalled the fabled boys of Persia in all the cunning arts that a boy could possibly employ to satisfy a man. Hermidas had no experience of either the boys of Corinth or of Persia; the most expensive of the boy brothels in Athens could provide boys from both those places, but Hermidas had not the means to purchase time with either in such costly establishments. A man could equip a dozen hoplites for war for less than the cost of a Corinthian boy in the market, and twice or thrice that sum for any boy from Persia who came up for sale.
Hermidas, like most men of Athens, used slave boys in the city's brothels – though the boys of Athens were as willing as the boys of any other city, a man could tire of using only clenched thighs, and need to satisfy the urge to enter a boy in either or both those places a boy has to be entered in was a need easily satisfied with a slave boy in a brothel.
Hermidas hoped that the boy from Corinth would come last in the boys' Stadia race, reasoning that the boy who finished behind all others would be the boy in most need of consolation, and need a full night before his pride was restored sufficient for him to face the world again, but those hopes were slender at the best – however much the Corinthian may prove to be outrun by the others, the boy from Pelas would surely be breathing the dust from his heels.
That boy was the smallest of them all, and how he came to have been accepted to race was a matter that Hermidas could only ponder on. The boy was accompanied by his father, the resemblance between man and boy was too great for the man to be the boy's lover, and that he was a man of some considerable wealth could not be doubted. No doubt, Hermidas concluded, that a pouch of coin of considerable weight had been exchanged, the judges bribed into permitting the boy to run, though why a father should have so strong a wish for his boy to run a race he could not but come last in, Hermidas could not conceive.
Still, that mattered not, and nor did the fact that the boy's father was there. No father would be so cruel as to deny his son the consolation of an Olympic Champion's arms, indeed more likely was it that it would be a thing to boast of, that the champion who wore the olive crown had chosen his son to celebrate his victory with. The boy may have come a distant last in his race, but of all the boys present in Olympia, he had been the one the Champion chose for his bed.
Such honour could only be bested if it was Apollo himself descended from Olympus with desire for the boy's mortal flesh.
That it would be the boy who finished last Hermidas was now determined on; the symmetry of a Champion consoling the most defeated boy would, Hermidas was sure, please the Gods, remove any trace of fateful hubris from his actions, for it would be the Gods who decided which boy should be last, and Hermidas would make no question of the Gods' choice, accept whichever boy it was they decided to give him.
Hermidas observed as the runners formed a line for their race, superb bodies to delight the eye of any man, though Hermidas observed those who were already more man than youth with the detachment he may view a statue, they were pleasing enough to look at but he had no more desire to share a bed with them than he did with any carved marble, no matter how skilfully it had been fashioned.
It was the six youngest he fixed his gaze upon and all were most pleasing sights for a man who wished a boy for his bed. The two Athenian boys were by far the prettiest and Hermidas made silent prayer to Apollo that neither would be last, both for the honour of his city and because he had need for more than tightly clenched thighs.
Most though, he gazed upon the boy of Pelas, the one he felt sure the Gods would gift him. The smallest and the slightest yet the signs of impending youth were clear. Though it was narrow, yet his chest had some depth to it, and his legs, long seeming for his body, were plainly full of muscle, but not the bunched muscle of a sprinter; his thighs were shaped by muscles that were long and sinewy, muscles designed for running long rather than short and fast.
Between his legs it was most clear that the boy was already near youth, sufficient there for a man who favoured much that part of a boy, as many men do, to think some of the hours of pleasure to be had from it, but most Hermidas gazed with anticipation on tight, firm buttocks and thought of the wonder it would be to ease himself between them and enter into the boy.
So much more satisfying than the thighs of a boy, though Hermidas would not deny that pleasure was to be found there also, and some several times he had enjoyed such, but it gave not the same wonder as entering a boy in either place a man may enter.
The boy would be last, be grateful for the sympathy and consolation from the wearer of an olive crown and Hermidas would have the fuck he craved.
The race began and Hermidas saw the slight boy do as he had done on the training field, sprinting with Apollo-like speed so that in twenty paces he led all, but as in training, he could not sustain that speed and even before fifty paces were run the older youths were passing him.
At fifty paces the boy could sprint no more and settled to the loping run that Hermidas had observed, still quick but not quick enough, and one by one others passed him till he was last of all.
Driven no doubt by courage, determination and pride, the boy fell not behind, but stayed close to the other boys, the Corinthian, Athenian, Theban, Athenian again and in front of all the boys, the Spartan.
With the race half-run it was clear the Spartan would be the first of the younger boys, he led an Athenian by two clear paces and his obvious strength would only increase that distance.
Yet still the boy of Pelas kept to his task, never more than ten or twelve strides behind the Spartan boy with fifty still to go.
That the boy had courage could not be denied and Hermidas savoured the thought of how he would later display that courage in a bed when Hermidas mounted him.
Even while Hermidas had that thought, the unbelievable happened – the slight Pelan boy sprinted again!
He passed Corinthian, Theban and the two Athenians, closing to within perhaps two strides of the Spartan boy. The Spartan was strong, knew he was threatened and gave his all to keep ahead and then, no more than ten paces from the finish, he stumbled, hopped and almost stopped, and by the time he could run again, all had passed him and he was last!
Hermidas had vowed to take the boy who finished last, but never had he thought the Gods would gift him the Spartan!
Fathers, lovers, sponsors rushed to the exhausted boys, congratulating, sympathising, hugging and consoling, but none went to the Spartan boy. He had brought disgrace to his city, not by being last alone, but by not ignoring whatever pain he had felt and continuing to run; Spartans did not admit that there was such a thing as pain.
He stood alone, disconsolate, rejected by his people.
For a long moment Hermidas did nothing; he'd been expecting to embrace a tearful, humiliated, slight, slender boy; instead a bewildered, solidly built almost youth stood unknowingly waiting for him.
The Spartan was older then the slender Pelan by a year at least, his body a year more developed, his shoulders wider, his chest deeper, his thighs thicker and his boyness longer by a thumb. His buttocks were fuller, more rounded than the slight mounds of the Pelan, offering a different promise, and it was the promise they offered that brought Hermidas to movement.
The boy was a Spartan; he would be no shy and blushing virgin. He would know what it was to be fucked and Hermidas wanted a fuck.
Apollo had played a trick on him, allowing him to think of the slight, slender, perhaps virgin Pelan, but given him a Spartan instead, a boy who would have been used by men and older boys many times before, a boy who knew what to do in a man's bed.
Hermidas had no need to push his way through the crowds, people made way for him, seeing the olive crown on his head, no doubt expecting him to make for the victor, a real Olympic Champion offering congratulations to the winner of the Boys' Stadia, and some were no doubt surprised that he went instead to the Spartan boy who stood alone, still breathing heavily as his lungs sucked in much needed air.
Hermidas had no eyes for the rise and fall of the boy's chest as he sucked in air, his eyes and thoughts were lower on the boy's splendid body, on the soft length of boy pleasure and the wonderful curves of his full buttocks. Hermidas had never enjoyed a Spartan boy, boys from other cities he had indulged in, all slaves of course, but there were no Spartan boy slaves in the boy brothels of Athens, Spartan boys did not get taken as slaves, nor were the poorest amongst them sold as the poor of Athens often were by their hopeless fathers.
The boy did not notice the approach of Hermidas, lost still in the daze and confusion of his defeat, and looked in surprise at the touch of Hermidas' hand as an arm went round his shoulder. He did not expect any to approach him, waited only for the harsh call of his trainer, summoning him for a whipping, the cruel lash of a cane on his perfect buttocks and the back of his splendid thighs his reward for failure.
That call never came; it may have been on the Spartan trainer's lips, but if it was, the sight of a crowned Olympic Champion, arm around the humiliated boy, stilled it uncalled. To the Spartan mind the boy deserved nothing less than a whipping to within a scream of his life, but at an Olympiad even a Spartan could not over ride the actions and wishes of a crowned champion.
"The Fates were not kind to you," Hermidas said softly in the boy's ear, "They must have placed a stone in your path for your foot to fall on. Such things happen from time to time."
The Spartan boy had not trodden on a stone, and even if he had that would not have slowed his pace, caused him to hop and stumble. Like all others from his strange city the boy was used to running barefoot on rocky paths, the soles of his feet were tough as any leather, and had he stepped on a stone sharp enough to pierce skin his mind would not have registered pain, his running stride not altered.
To any other the Spartan boy would have snarled contempt, but he saw the olive crown on Hermidas' head, a crown that made a man as close to the Gods as mortal man may get, and instead of snarling he muttered only, "It was no stone."
"A clenching of a muscle then," Hermidas suggested, "It matters not. You did not fall or limp away, but finished the course in spite of injury. Come, let me take you to the baths, and once cleaned and refreshed, the world will not seem so dark a place."
Spartan boys are not accustomed to kind words and sympathy and he knew not how to respond now, conscious only of his failure and that a crowned Olympic Champion held him in an embrace, and Spartan though he was, he was still boy enough to find some solace in being held close by one who wore an olive crown.
"Have him cleaned well and most properly," Hermidas instructed the bath supervisor, a slave who permitted himself a hidden smile. If a boy was to be cleaned most properly then it was because he was destined for a bed, and there was some novelty in an Athenian champion taking a Spartan boy for his bed.
For the Spartan boy being washed and scraped clean was both a novelty and a luxury; in the Spartan barracks boys took care of their own hygiene, were whipped if they did so carelessly, but this was Olympia, not Sparta, and there were slaves to perform the task.
So enjoying was he the luxury of being washed and cleaned, which did as the Athenian had promised, go a little way to helping him forget, if only for the moment, the humiliation of his race, it took the Spartan boy until the slave parted his buttocks, washed and scraped clean in there, taking great care around that nether part a boy has where a man may enter him, that it was not generosity of spirit alone that was the cause of the care the Olympic Champion was taking of him.
That the Athenian intended him for his bed gave the Spartan boy no cause for concern; he had taken men, youths and older boys inside him in both places since he had been sent to the barracks at the age of ten and his first realising thought was that a fucking would be far more pleasing than a whipping.
But would, he wondered as he was carefully prepared to please a man, the Athenian actually fuck him? From all he had heard, and talk of such things was as common amongst Spartan boys as boys of any other city, Athenians did it only between a boy's closed thighs. That made little sense when there were two perfectly good places to put it in a boy; perhaps, he thought, it was because the Athenians' sacred deity was Athena and she had forbidden the use of boys in that manner, insisting that it must be only girls and women who were entered.
It could not be doubted that the Gods had some strange ideas, but they were Gods and it was not the place of mere mortals to question them.
The Spartan boy walked proudly through the streets of Olympia from the baths to the Street of Champions, a row of tiny villas provided for the winners of an olive crown to spend their remaining days of the Games in. He cared nothing that he was naked still, his tunic still on the ground at the starting line of the Stadia race, rather he gloried in the exhibiting of his body, making plain to any who saw that his boy's charms had led a crowned champion to choose him for his bed. Olympia teemed with boys, many beautiful and all, save those Thebans who had lovers with them, available for the wearer of an olive crown to take his pick from, and from all that number the victor in the Stadia, the most prestigious crown of all, had chosen him.
What boy was there who would not swell with pride? What boy would not wish all to see the boy delights he had to offer, the delights he had been chosen for? And that those delights were for Hermidas to enjoy was made most clear and plain by the champion's arm, now around his waist and not his shoulder, proclaiming to all, `This boy is mine.'
Boys who saw them would groan with envy, wish that it were they being led to the champion's bed; those amongst them virgins still would dream of gifting that virginity to an Olympic Champion, those whose virginity was sometime gone would vow that had they been the chosen boy they would fuck better than ever they had fucked before, and many, if not all, would seek solace from their hands as soon as they were able.
Such were the thoughts of the Spartan boy as Hermidas led him through the streets and into the tiny villa where he would take his fill of pleasure. That such were not the proper thoughts of a defeated Spartan boy concerned him now not at all; he may be thought to have brought dishonour on his city, but he would bring no dishonour upon himself. He would give all the champion wanted him to give, and when done, make offer to give it all again.
"Why me?" the Spartan boy asked. Now he shared a couch with Hermidas in the small villa's courtyard, a courtyard that had room for a small pool, some plants in pots and a single couch, room for no more than the small table beside the couch that served as resting place for the goblets of watered wine Hermidas had bid the slave bring. "You could have your pick of any boy in the city, why chose you me?"
"Think you I chose wrong?" Hermidas smiled, a hand on that part of a boy that Hermidas had greatest liking for. True it was that Hermidas had great liking for all the parts of a boy, but it was between the legs he most liked to rest his hand, relishing in the hardness of the one and the moving softness of the two. In that place the Spartan boy was in no wise a disappointment; a fist closed round the hardness, smallest finger at the base, still did the tip do more than peek beyond enclosing thumb and finger. "In truth," Hermidas said, "I chose you not, the Gods did the choosing for me."
Carefully Hermidas explained all to the Spartan boy while his hand enjoyed the hard glory between the boy's legs, by accident putting that boy's mind at rest when he said with a smile that he had hoped it would not be an Athenian boy who finished last as there was more to a boy than tightly closed thighs.
"I did not tread on a stone," the Spartan boy said with care and thought, "Nor did a muscle clench in my leg. I know not how to say it, but when I went to place again my foot upon the ground I had no feeling in it. I knew not if my foot had touched the ground or no, it were like I suddenly had lost a leg. That it was that was the cause of my hopping, for I felt I only had one leg and when I made to see how that could be my stumble came. And then, when all had passed me, I had two legs again."
"Apollo," Hermidas said at once, "Apollo wished you for my bed, the one boy of all the six I had no hope of. I cannot deny that he has chosen well," Hermidas smiled, stroking the glorious hardness of the Spartan boy, "And yet I do not even know your name."
"Lycidas," the Spartan boy said at once as gentle waves of pleasure flowed through him from his fondled hardness. The men of Sparta had little use for that part of a boy, wishing only to fuck; boys in the barracks sometimes did, but never had Lycidas felt the pleasure of having that part of him so admired.
"If Apollo has given me to you," Lycidas managed a smile, "It is not for me to deny you any pleasure you wish to have from me. Though I have some hope," he smiled wider, "You will not be satisfied with my tightly closed thighs."
"They are beautiful thighs," Hermidas left boy hardness for a while to stroke smooth, freshly cleansed boy thigh, "And some use doubtless will I find for them, but most I long for those places that I may enter."
"Both await you," Lycidas smiled again in content, and made himself as close to Hermidas as he could get.
Both did await Hermidas, but before using either of them he felt it necessary to show his thanks to Apollo for the gift of the Spartan boy, and this he did by savouring the boy's body as he believed the God would savour mortal boy flesh when he came down from high Olympus to enjoy such.
His tunic removed so Lycidas could have some understanding of what he would later take inside him, Hermidas devoted himself to pleasure.
First made he use of the boy's mouth, not for his manhood but for his tongue. Hermidas had no knowledge or understanding of the manner in which Spartan men used their boys, but Athenian boys, though they denied entry into either of their places, their denial did not extend to tongues.
Athenian boys were eager and lascivious users of the lips and tongue – perhaps Athena had granted them that ability to compensate for their refusal to be entered – and Hermidas had encountered no slave boy who could arouse such passion and desire with his mouth in that manner. He had not, of course, ever found the price to pay for a Corinthian or Persian slave, so perhaps those may better the boys of Athens, but that, Hermidas believed, had to be open to doubt.
Lycidas knew nothing of the lustful battle that tongues could engage in; Spartan men had no use for such effete refinement, a thing they though suitable for such as Athenians and Corinthians but not for proper men, and much was he puzzled at the first as to what he should do. At last his lips yielded to the probing tongue of Hermidas and all became clear to him.
This were like a battle, two opposing hoplites, their tongues flickering spears, mouths pressed together shields, and in such a wise Lycidas gave lustful battle to Hermidas.
Lycidas made a sudden lunge at the centre, hoping to make capture of Hermidas' commanding general and hold it hostage while he sought for truce in the Battle of the Mouths, but Hermidas had fought before in this fashion and even as his proud banner was grasped by Lycidas, so did that of Lycidas fall to the hand of Hermidas.
Fierce battle raged there for a while, hands moving up and down seeking mastery over what they held, and it seemed that if a victory was to be found there it would be a Pyrrhic one, both yielding together.
Hermidas was an Athenian, and those of that city are known for their cunning, and Hermidas feigned retreat, withdrawing from the Battle of the Mouths and for a moment Lycidas thought he had the victory, but of a sudden Hermidas turned and renewed assault with his mouth, but in another place where Lycidas least expected it and he had no defences to prevent the total capture of his battle staff by the mouth of cunning Hermidas.
Surrender was unconditional and immediate, Lycidas' had no weapons left to defend his submitting body and if he had he would have thrown them to the ground. He was Hermidas' captive and could do no other than to submit to the exquisite torture of pleasure that his captor inflicted on him.
Lycidas was four years in knowing that mouths were used in a certain way, but those mouths were the mouths of boys and used by men, never had he heard or known of any man having wish or desire to use his mouth on a boy! And in such a fashion! A boy opened his mouth for a man to enter and the man used that mouth as he would use the other place until he was spent and then all was done, but Lycidas, though he was in a mouth, was not using that mouth, the mouth was using him!
Lycidas tried to speak, but his words sounded much like the croaking of a frog.
"Apollo!" he gasped and croaked, "What wonder is this?"
Hermidas withdrew, grasping the mouth wet boyhood pride of Lycidas with finger and thumb at the very base, and moved it some small amount from side to side so the meaning of his reply could not be mistaken,
"This," he smiled most fondly, "Is the wonder," and returned then Lycidas to his mouth.
Not an easy task for Lycidas to make sense of what was happening; Spartan boys are not trained to think as those of Athens are, though perhaps even those boys would have some small difficulty in following the rules of logic were their boyhood prides subjected to the same exquisite torture that Hermidas was now inflicting.
Through the waves of pleasure he was being obliged to endure, and with whatever mind he had left thinking like the Spartan he was, Lycidas made connection between the tactics Hermidas had employed with his lips and tongue in the Battle of the Mouths and those he was now employing in the present conflict and understood that they were near the same. In the Battle of the Mouths, tongue had swirled and twisted around tongue, but in this assault there was no tongue to twist and swirl around so the tongue of Hermidas swirled and twisted around boyhood pride instead; the manoeuvre was the same, the point of attack different, and there were no defences against it.
The Battle of the Mouths had been no battle at all, a mere skirmish intended to test defences, and Lycidas, used as he was to more direct and frontal assault, had been taken unawares, his standard captured by a skilful mouth and now his body entire belonged to his captor.
Hermidas had told the Spartan boy that he would find use for his splendid thighs, and he was true to his word, stroking and kneading the firm, warm, smooth flesh as his mouth tortured the boy, demanding unconditional surrender.
Soon, the churnings in his lower stomach told him, Lycidas would be obliged to pay a never paid before ransom for his defeat, but he felt no shame or dishonour in his surrender, rather he felt pride that he would pay that ransom with delight, though even now he did not expect to deposit such liquid ransom where his standard was held so willing a captive.
Lycidas was held prisoner, helpless to resist, unable to escape, his body now desperate for the ransom to be paid. He felt it being gathered, deep in his body, collected and prepared for payment; he felt his body tense as it readied to send the ransom in an unstoppable surge through him, into his boy pride, and once there, nothing on earth could prevent it from being expelled.
So it was, in a shuddering squeal of ecstasy, so intense that it was a special pain all of its own, Lycidas paid his ransom in spurt after spurt of hot seed directly into the vault of Hermidas' mouth, a vault that gratefully accepted and consumed all that Lycidas had to offer in payment of his ransom.
Lycidas tried to find words to say the thoughts in his mind, but those thoughts were not Spartan boy thoughts and Lycidas did not understand that he was no longer a Spartan boy but just a boy. In the barracks it would have been crude, blunt, coarse words he used, `You fuck boys, you don't suck their cocks!' words spat out with undisguised contempt, but this was not a Spartan barracks, and those words did not say what he wanted to say.
"Have you......" he tried, "Do you......" he tried again, "I thought......" another try and this one closer than the others, "Athenian boys did not permit the use of the mouth," the words stumbled from him.
"I am Athenian," Hermidas smiled with fondness, "But surely you cannot think I am still a boy."
The cheeks of Lycidas' face turned red with sudden rush of embarrassed blood – had he given unintended offence to the Olympic Champion? But no, the Athenian was smiling not frowning, and Lycidas could perceive the twinkle in his eyes, and his hands had not stopped their exploration of his body.
"Nor am I a philosopher insisting on the proper use of rhetoric," Hermidas said as he found something interesting in a boy nipple, "May it be that it would be easier for you if you used words you are more familiar with?"
"Oh!" Lycidas gasped as his nipple was explored in some great detail, "Those words are....."
"Used also by the boys of Athens," Hermidas interrupted, "I have even found use for them myself."
Lycidas squirmed as his nipple was teased and pinched some, an activity he had no words for as it was one unknown in the barracks. Fortunately, Hermidas ended that new form of torture and Lycidas was once more able to pant and groan words.
"Does that happen to boys of Athens?" he found a way of asking without using any of those words.
"It does if I get at them," Hermidas grinned, "But if what you really are wanting to ask is, `do Athenian boys like having their cocks sucked?' my answer is, `Didn't you?"
Lycidas gaped at Hermidas in both surprise and confusion as the Olympic Champion used words that Lycidas had tried so hard not to use, believing that the boy language of the barracks would cause offence, and the foolishness of that made him blush. Was he not naked on a bed with Hermidas naked beside him? Was he not there because Hermidas wished to fuck him? Was he not there because he had a wish for Hermidas to fuck him? Was Hermidas not stroking his naked body from neck to knee? And had he not just spurted his seed in the mouth of Hermidas? What did words matter?
"I did. Much I did," Lycidas confessed. "Is it not true then, that boys of Athens must not use their mouths?"
"True that there is a custom that they do not do so when with a man," Hermidas said he was no philosopher and that was true, but he was an Athenian and all Athenians are by their very natures, part philosopher, so a simple answer would not be sufficient if a longer and more complicated one could be given, "But that custom does not extend to the mouths of men and the cocks of boys. Nor does it apply to either mouth or cock when both mouth and cock belong to boys. Consider, Lycidas," Hermidas became philosopher in very deed, "What part of a boy is of the greatest interest and attraction to a man?"
Lycidas grinned; it had not so been in his barracks in Sparta, but in his four weeks in Olympia the answer was most clear and plain.
"His cock," Lycidas correctly stated, feeling somewhat bold in using that word though Hermidas had used it before him.
"His cock indeed," Hermidas confirmed. He slipped a finger beneath the one of Lycidas that lay soft and spent, "Let us consider then, the cock of a boy." He lifted that of Lycidas to make illustration of his lesson, "Is it not truly a most delightful thing?"
Lycidas sniggered.
"Is it not, indeed, a most succulent morsel?"
Lycidas sniggered again.
"And what, pray," Hermidas continued, "Is it men most like to do with succulent morsels?"
It was Lycidas' first experience of what in later ages would come to be named `The Socratic Method', but even so it proved its efficiency as a method of instruction.
"Put them in their mouths," he said, but not without a giggle.
"And if that should happen," Hermidas was not to be deterred by a giggle, "What then does the owner of that succulent morsel wish?"
"For it to be sucked!" Lycidas' giggle became a snort of laughter.
Hermidas knew then that his vow to console the last in the Boys' Stadia had been a vow that pleased the Gods; but a short while ago the Spartan boy had been alone, despairing and disconsolate, thinking only that he had brought dishonour on his city and himself. Now he was a laughing, happy boy, all thoughts of humiliation gone from him, driven away by the mere sucking of his cock.
And what a wonderful cock it was to suck; Hermidas gazed at the Spartan boy's centre, the lingering flavour of boy nectar still on his tongue, and being Athenian, he admired the soft beauty of it. Truly Apollo had rewarded him, giving him this boy to enjoy. Hermidas could not deny that he had lusted for the slight and slender Pelan boy, thought much upon the pleasure it would be to mount him, to ease himself between the near flat cheeks of his buttocks, thought how wonderfully tight it would be as he slowly entered him, possibly the very first to enter there, but however glorious that would have been, the Pelan boy's cock was no match for the Spartan's.
Like all Athenians, Hermidas knew the unending joy a boy's cock can give to a man and of the sublime delight that it is to give pleasure to a boy by the proper use and admiration of his cock.
Lycidas was a Spartan boy, and like all boys his cock had needs, but a Spartan boy satisfied those needs with younger boys, using both those places where a cock may enter and caring nothing for the pleasures of the boys he used, as older boys, youths and men cared nothing for his pleasures when they used him. In his four years in the barracks, Lycidas' cock had been in the mouths of young boys countless times, and seeded there also, but never had he felt the waves of pleasure, waves so huge he had no way to talk of them, as those that flooded through him when Hermidas sucked him, and the chariot of the sun still had a third of the sky to run and night to follow – what more wonders yet awaited him?
By custom, Athenian boys do not permit a man to enter them – though in truth that custom was oft forgotten when a boy took a lover and did not just find himself in a man's bed for an afternoon of harmless pleasure hoping his father had no knowing of it – but that custom did not extend to tongues. Already Lycidas had discovered how a tongue in the mouth can raise desire, soon he was to learn that a mouth and tongue are weapons so deadly when employed against a boy that resistance is impossible.
The cock of Lycidas truly was a thing of beauty and Hermidas thanked Apollo once again for the gift of it, for there was no doubt in his mind that it was Apollo who had caused the Spartan boy to falter in his running, to be the last of the boys when he was sure to be the first, but that cock had but just ejected seed and the cocks even of boys of mere fourteen need some little time to gain a second wind and be ready for action again.
Hermidas knew well that there is pleasure to be given to and taken from a boy in places other than his cock, and so he began his assault on that one place his mouth and tongue had not been.
Lycidas was a Spartan boy and had no expectations that the use of his body would come to an end merely because he had expelled seed; in the barracks men at times grouped together, each making use of a single boy in turns until all had their satisfaction, often in both places, and Hermidas was still hard and unsatisfied so Lycidas did not expect to be permitted any time to rest and recover.
Thus Lycidas made no resistance when his legs were raised by Hermidas so that his knees were beside his ears. This was not the usual way the men of Sparta positioned a boy for entry, but clear it was that the place of entry was most exposed and Lycidas waited to be speared there.
Hermidas noted that the slave boy at the baths had performed his task to perfection; not only was Lycidas as clean as any pebble in a fast flowing stream, not one single hair was there to be seen. Even the most scrupulous of boys most often miss a hair or two, but not so with Lycidas; even around the wrinkled skin that guards the place of entry Lycidas was as innocent of hair as he must have been on the day he first joined a barracks.
Hermidas licked his lips and readied himself for the assault and with one swift lick the prize was his.
Lycidas had been pierced many times by the lustful spears of older boys, youths and men, some small and slender, slipping past the outer ring of his defences almost unnoticed, others longer and thicker, weapons that battered aside that closed, defensive ring without pause or mercy, impaling him fully, stretching him near to his limit. Lycidas had learned how to counter such wicked thrusts, how to push forward his outer defensive ring, meeting the invader head on and allowing his inner line of defence to yield and part so his prize was taken with as little discomfort as was possible, but nothing had prepared him for assault by tongue.
The outer ring of Lycidas was taken by surprise by the wet assault of tongue, not knowing if it should push forward as it had been trained to do or withdraw into closed tight defence, and in its uncertainty it pulsed and twitched between the two. The more it pulsed and twitched the more it was licked and the more it was licked the more it pulsed and twitched until the invader judged the moment to be right.
As the ring of Lycidas pulsed part open once again, Hermidas curled his tongue and made assault, through that ring and into boy.
Lycidas, who had been moaning some, uttered now a noise that was part squeal, part cry, shock and wonder mixed.
Without knowing why, or even that he did it, Lycidas made effort to push himself more on that tongue that was now inside him, his mind and body were not his now, they both were in the power of the tongue that had entered him.
For Hermidas the assaults by mouth and tongue were no new thing, he had learned of their power when he was a boy, his lean and slender body being cause for the eyes of men to be drawn to it when he exercised in the gymnasium. Already then had he begun to play the games boys always play with their friends and had been instructed most forcibly by his father in the customs that governed the boys of Athens, and though between his legs he had yet just begun to grow, he knew well enough the power that part of a boy has over the minds and desires of men.
Encouraged by his friends he had accepted the kind words, smiles, lustful looks and necessary small gifts from a handsome young man, had yielded to careful courtship and learned all of how the men of his city worshipped boys.
As he grew older, moved from boy to youth and then to man, Hermidas, as all do, began his search for boys to worship, and as he lived in Athens and was growing the fine body of a sprinter, some several he found to pass many pleasing hours with, always doing his duty as an upright and moral man of Athens, taking pleasure from a boy by giving pleasure to that boy as men had done with him when he had been a boy.
Thus, when Hermidas made assault upon the Spartan boy with his mouth and tongue the assaults he made were made with skill, and no wonder should it be that the young Spartan, who had no knowledge of such tactics and manoeuvres, was overcome entire.
Lycidas had been entered many, many times; most he had endured, having no choice but to endure, some very few had been near to giving him some small pleasure, but never had Lycidas felt desire to be entered, to be filled complete, yet now a tongue had raised in him such a desire that he could not contain it.
Spartans do not beg, such is not in their natures, yet beg now Lycidas did.
"Fuck me!" Lycidas made plea, "Torment me no more! Fuck me! I beg you, fuck me!"
Strange as it must seem to any who is not a man of Athens, Hermidas did not straight withdraw his tongue and plunge instead his manly spear deep into the begging boy; withdraw he did, but not to claim the prize his tongue had won, but to say quietly, "Not yet."
It should not be thought that this was some peculiar weakness, some lacking in manhood on the part of Hermidas; he had made promise to himself of taking a boy to fuck as his reward for being victor in the Stadia, and now he had a boy begging to be fucked. Why then did Hermidas not fuck him?
Why did he not straight drive deep inside the boy but instead, lower again the legs of the boy and take once more glorious boy hardness in his mouth?
Hermidas was presented with a dilemma, and being an Athenian he was obliged by his nature to confront and resolve that dilemma, though, in truth, it was a problem that any number of grey bearded philosophers would have spent years with debate and counter debate and still not reached definitive conclusion.
Hermidas had made himself the promise of taking a citizen boy to his bed for fucking and the Gods had granted him his desire and provided him with a Spartan boy who was now begging to be entered, and had he not so begged, Hermidas would have thrust deeply into him.
The Gods, as Hermidas and all men know, can be both kind and cruel, but most of all they like to amuse themselves with mortals, present them with problems and smile and laugh as mere mortals attempt to solve them. Hermidas had vowed to fuck a boy as his reward for winning, and had he contented himself with a boy from the baths, a slave boy bought for the purpose of taking men inside him, there would have been no dilemma, no problem to be solved.
But Hermidas had sworn to take a free born citizen boy, one of the highest birth and rank as he could get, believing (correctly) that as a crowned Stadia Champion any number of such boys would go eagerly to his bed and willingly be entered by him, but was not that belief, the certainty that the glory of his status as a crowned champion, would enable him to pick any boy he chose nothing other than a manifestation of hubris?
That Apollo saw it as such seemed evidenced by that God's choosing of the Spartan boy and not the slender, slight, delectable Pelan who Hermidas had felt such lust for; a free-born citizen boy, but not one of wealth and high status, for all Spartans were the same. And being a boy from a Spartan barracks, he would probably have been entered nigh as oft as any slave boy in an Athenian brothel, some far cry from the high born, possibly virgin boy that Hermidas had hoped to enjoy.
A warning of hubris indeed, but a gentle one, and perhaps Hermidas had regained some favour with the God in his dealings with the boy, for had he not sought to ensure the boy's pleasure in his using of him?
Had he not shown the boy pleasures he knew nothing of before? He had doubtless been entered in both places countless times, but of all the myriad pleasures there are for a boy in the proper use of his body by a careful man, the Spartan boy was indeed a virgin, or had been so before Hermidas began his assaults on him.
That Hermidas had shown the boy wonders that had never been in his dreams there could be no doubting of, and, as yet, he had made no demands to enter him in either place, but had he done all he had for the boy's pleasure and delight or for his own?
That he enjoyed greatly all his assaults by mouth upon the boy could not be denied, but was his pleasure greater than the boy's? Was the boy now begging to be entered because he believed that by that means he could bring all to an end and once Hermidas had brought himself to seeding inside the boy all would be over and the boy set free?
Much as he desired to mount the boy, enter him and spend his seed in him, this he knew he must not do unless it were truly the wish of the boy to be entered for pleasure, and with the boy griped firmly in the grasp of lust there was no telling what his mind desired.
Thus Hermidas said `Not yet,' to the boy and returned straight his mouth to the boy's splendid pride and with skilful lips and tongue brought him again to climax there, for when the seed is expelled then are the fires of lust quelled, and with those flames quenched the Spartan boy's true wishes may be discovered.
Perhaps Apollo found cause to laugh as he drove the chariot of the sun towards the west, amused and entertained by the behaviour of the Athenian man; he had made wish for a free born boy to fuck and the God had presented him with one most used to being fucked and expecting to be fucked again now, yet like the Athenian he was, the man had need to make debate first.
Mortals are such strange creatures, and of them all, Athenians the most strange.
Lycidas thought also that Athenians were most strange; twice had he been brought to seeding, and both in a manner most exquisite, yet still the Athenian had not entered him in either place. True it was in both he had been entered by tongue – and that was a thing Lycidas had never heard word spoken of, even in the barracks by boys there, and they talked much of the uses men put them to and of the uses they wished to make of certain younger boys, but all such talk was of entry made by cock, the size of the cock and the manner in which it was used and never was made mention of entry by tongue, and Lycidas could not but think he was not being used as a boy should be used, for was it not the proper purpose of a boy to be entered by cock in both his places?
Stranger still than that he had not been entered in either place, was that twice now he had been brought to seeding by a man, and that was a thing that men did not do for boys, not in Sparta anyway, and Sparta was all Lycidas had knowledge of. If a boy had need to seed, which naturally he did, oft more than one time a day, he found a younger boy and entered him and made his seeding there for such was the way of things in Sparta.
Two seedings, and surely the most wondrous of all the seedings he had done before, and both in the mouth of an Olympic Champion!
While Lycidas made ponder of this marvel Hermidas made appreciation of the boy's splendid body with his hand, taking care not to touch the boy delight, nor touch his nipples either, for well Hermidas knew that so soon after seeding both those places would be most sensitive and welcome not the touch of a man's hand on them for some short time, but sufficient there was still of boy body to savour while he waited for boy pride to be ready again for use.
"Is this the way of the men of Athens?" Lycidas asked when once more he had the power to speak words proper, "Is such what the boys of your city must endure before they permit a man between their thighs for him to seed there? Twice now have you brought me to seeding in your mouth."
"And what seedings!" Hermidas smiled, "I had not thought a boy of your years could expel so much seed!"
Though one part of his young body had still to restore itself, the mind of Lycidas worked yet in the manner of all boys' minds and he could not but grin when he answered.
"Four weeks have I been in Olympia, and for those weeks my trainer took great care that I came near no boys, and all men he kept from me also, nor did he make use of me himself that all my strength and energy be saved for the race itself. I swear my eggs were so full to near bursting that I wished for nothing more than the race to be run that I could find a boy to empty them within."
"I am sorry then," Hermidas stroked the splendour of smooth boy thigh from knee to hip and down again to knee, "That you have been obliged to spend your seed in my mouth and not in a boy, and yet I am not sorry that you have done so, for that seed was most copious and wondrous thick, and more yet of it have I desire for."
Lycidas could not but giggle when he heard his seed praised so, and prayed to Apollo that his eggs would fill again most soon so he would have more seed for Hermidas to consume.
Yet the mind of Lycidas was not content, for Hermidas had made no assay to use him as he understood boys are to be used, not even between the thighs as Athenians are said to do, and he was concerned more than some that it was for some fault of his that he had not been entered in either place.
His attention and his eyes wandered to that part of Hermidas that he thought should by now have been in him, in either or both his places, and this, for a boy of Sparta, was not a usual thing.
Spartan boys were not like the boys of other places or cities; they did not think of the cocks of men or boys as things of some special beauty and took little heed of them unless one was about to enter them. True boys made some talk of them, of which man it was that had one so large as to cause some pain when it was used, and of those who had so little that a boy had hardly any notice of when it was inside him, but to think of them as things of beauty, to be admired with the eyes or with hands or mouth was not a Spartan thought.
Yet now the eyes and mind of Lycidas did go to the cock of Hermidas, and though he thought not of it as a thing of beauty – for beauty was a concept unknown to Spartans, be they boys or men – yet still it seemed a thing of some wonder.
Hard and proud it stood, for as yet it had not been used and brought to seeding, not the largest Lycidas had been entered by but by no means the smallest either, it seemed to Lycidas that some skilled craftsman had created the perfect spear for the body of the Stadia champion.
Already Lycidas knew it was not the cock of an ordinary man, for Hermidas had won an olive crown and no ordinary man could hope to do such a thing, but nor was it an ordinary cock for it seemed to have some strange power within it that called upon Lycidas to take it in his hand and even so in his mouth, not as he took the cocks of the Spartan men who made use of him in his mouth, but in the manner that Hermidas had used his mouth on him.
This he had more than some little fear of doing, for boys of Sparta make no such approaches to men, but the urge was strong and Lycidas summoned courage and took Hermidas in his hand.
Never had Lycidas held such a thing of wonder in his hand; so hard and yet also soft above the hardness, so warm and full of power that a groan escaped from his lips as he held that wonder.
Whatever magical power that cock possessed, and not for one moment did Lycidas question that it was full of magic, made the head of Lycidas move towards it, open-mouthed in the need to make taste of it, not caring if he were punished and beaten for his daring.
His lips closed round it and the magic of it poured into him and made his tongue move in some imitation of the way the tongue of Hermidas had moved when he had the glory of Lycidas in his mouth.
Lycidas felt the hand of the champion upon his head, but neither did it thrust his head away in anger, nor did it force it further on the cock, using his mouth as the men of Sparta used it as the other place to fuck, instead gentle fingers ruffled through his hair, softly urging him to increase his efforts.
This Lycidas did, and surely now, he thought, he was the plaything of Apollo, for never would he have found the courage for himself to cup the eggs of Hermidas in his hand, as now he did while he worked so with his lips and tongue.
And such a wonder were those eggs! They roiled and moved in his hand as he held them as though they had a life of their own, making him work harder yet with his lips and tongue for now Lycidas craved for them to give up the seed they held and fill his mouth with it.
When the men of his city used his mouth, they pushed their cocks as deep into his throat as they could and fucked his mouth so, and when they expelled their seed they did so straight down his gullet, and this he had always counted as a blessing for but the smallest of tastes did he have of it, and that taste he had he had no liking for, but now he kept the cock of Hermidas in the front of his mouth so that when seed came if would flow onto his tongue and fill his mouth and he would savour all the flavour of it before he swallowed, as Hermidas had done with him.
And when it came, fill the mouth of Lycidas it did, for Hermidas had also gone many days without seeding, and Lycidas was obliged to swallow some to make room in his mouth for more, and this Lycidas did without hesitation for he knew Apollo would not pardon him if he permitted any escape his mouth.
Then was the mind of Lycidas filled with wonder, a great wonder made up of many wonders. The taste of seed lay on his tongue and on the roof of his mouth and it was not a taste that offended him and he had some understanding of why it was Hermidas had brought him to twice seeding in his mouth.
Many times and many before had Lycidas had his mouth filled by cock, but ever was that for his mouth to be used by whatever cock it was that was in his mouth but this was not that way, but had been his mouth using the cock that filled it and he had no words to speak the wonder of that difference.
Wonder also that he had not been bidden to do that thing but had done it from a desire that rose in him; wonder still more that he found such pleasure in the performing of it and greater wonder still that he felt the joy of giving pleasure, for the stroking of his hair and back by Hermidas made more plain than any words how he pleased the man.
That it had given Hermidas great pleasure was never to be doubted, and he thought how strange it was that he had wished for a virgin boy for his bed, but instead Apollo had given him a Spartan, a boy used much and often, but yet a virgin entire in the knowledge of the joys there are in being a boy, and what honest man is there who does not delight in leading a boy to first knowing the pleasures of his flesh?
Thus did Hermidas and Lycidas lay together in the understanding that the pleasures of the bed are greatest when man and boy share the giving and the taking both, together and in equal measures, as their bodies made recovery.
The chariot of the sun drew near to the edge of the sky and Apollo looked down once more, finding amusement more in the trick he had played on mortal man and boy.
It was indeed a cunning scheme, one worthy of the God. An Olympic Champion had wished to celebrate his victory with a boy, a celebration Apollo thought most suitable, and had thought to have a slight and slender and most beautiful virgin Pelan boy in his bed, but instead had now a much used and often entered Spartan boy.
This Apollo had contrived upon a sudden whim; the beautiful Pelan within no more than fifty paces of running last and soon to be the prize Hermidas desired, when Apollo thought that boy too great a prize for a mortal man, be he Olympic Champion or no, and decided on the boy for himself.
So it was that the Pelan boy of a sudden felt strength again in his legs and sprinted hard once more, and so it was that the Spartan stumbled and near fell, ended last and so was it he and not the beautiful Pelan who became the prize for Hermidas.
That slight and slender virgin not yet youth aroused desire in the God, who found great enjoyment in the bodies of young mortal boys, and oft descended to the earth to have his way with such, though most he so did with boys who alone guarded goats in the empty hills, for such boys had much need of some wonder in their lives, and what greater wonder for a boy could there be than to be mounted by a God?
More amusement yet did Apollo take, and when the horses of the chariot of the sun were at last at rest, he went to a tent in the fields by Olympia where the Pelan boy slept, close guarded by his stern father, for that boy's charms were as a flame to a moth and much drew now the eyes and desires of men to him and his father would let none but the most wealthy and important make attempt to take him for their beds.
Whilst the Spartan boy learned much and more of the wonders there are of being a boy in the arms and bed of an Olympic Champion – and that Champion, being a true Athenian, most thoroughly taught all he knew – the Pelan boy learned those same, though for him it was in the manner of a dream, for a God may take his pleasures with a boy in many ways.
Much did that young boy writhe and wriggle and pant and sigh and gasp when in his dream he felt his hard boyhood engulfed by the wet, warm cavern of a mouth; much did his head move and his sleeping cheeks bulge when he dreamed it were his mouth that was filled, and much did he cry out and beg for more when in his dream he was entered in his other place and felt the weight of the body of a man on him and he dreamed of being speared as deep as a boy may be speared.
The boy's dream woke the father who knew at once what it was that his son was dreaming of, for no way there was for his groans and sighs and whimpers to be caused by any other sort of dream, for they were the same groans and sighs and whimpers as the ones a Spartan boy was making as his young, smooth body writhed and twisted in the agonies of delight as the Olympic Champion worked wonders on it with hands and mouth, making him long to be entered and speared.
The father cursed his son for having that dream; much silver had he given so the charms of the boy would be paraded for all to see in the hopes and intentions that some man of great wealth and importance would wish to have him for his lover, and now he must keep closer guard yet upon the boy, for well he knew that once a boy has dreamed so of the pleasures there are to be found in the bed of a man, the boy cares not if that man has wealth or no.
As Apollo speared the Pelan boy and gave him understanding of how it is to be entered by a man, for though the boy would think of it only as a dream, the God was in truth inside him, so the Spartan boy knelt astride the champion so the Athenian may observe his face and see the delight with which he was entered, and he lowered himself upon the oiled spear of flesh he craved, sighing with pleasure as he was pierced, and lowering himself till all was within him.
Then did the Spartan boy make clear that it is not Corinthian and Persian boys alone that have understanding of how to pleasure a man when one is in them for the delights that a boy has to offer and not alone for the need to seed, and though Hermidas had made use of many slave boys, never had he encountered any who showed such delight in being fucked and worked such magic on his cock as Lycidas did then.
When again the chariot of the sun showed in the eastern sky, Hermidas led still naked Lycidas in search of his discarded tunic, and also with thought to make some polite and mannered statement to Spartans that he would keep his prize with him for the two days yet remaining of the Games, but the Spartans told him that there were boys enough in Sparta and they had no wish for one who walked naked with the arm of an Athenian about his waist.
Light fell also on a Pelan boy who woke from a dream of wonder. Before that dream that boy's thoughts had strayed only in the most boyish of ways to what hung between his legs and with some little curiosity about the possessions of other boys, and never yet had he named those things as cocks, but he woke now with a huge craving within him for cock and the understanding that he needed to be pierced by such in both his places as he had been in his dream.
His father, knowing now how urgent it was that a suitable lover be found in haste, hurried his son to the training field. No need was there now for that slight and slender, beautiful Pelan boy to train, but how else was his father to show him naked? A naked boy attracts more eyes than does one wearing a tunic, so there could be no faulting of the father's logic.
Had Apollo not been distracted by a curly headed goat boy as he drove his chariot of the sun across the sky, all may not have transpired as it did, but of all boys, those that tended goats were the favourites of Apollo, and curly haired ones the most favourite of all.
Never did a goat boy show surprise when the God came down to a hill or mountain side to make use of him, and all were most willing and eager to forget their goats whilst the God had his way with them, and as the horses of the celestial chariot knew well the path they must follow and the speed at which they must run, Apollo had no need to drive them and could safely spend his time filling a mortal goat boy with his godly seed.
This indeed was Apollo doing when Hermidas led Lycidas to the training field still in search of the boy's tunic and set eyes upon the Pelan boy in all his natural glory.
"Had you not stumbled and he sprinted, he it is that would have been in my bed this last night," Hermidas said, for such a thing a man may say to a boy who has sucked his cock and will do so again.
"He would be good to fuck," Lycidas agreed, looking at a boy in a manner he had never looked upon boys before, "His cock a little small, but no doubt a delight to suck."
"The cocks of all boys are a delight to suck," Hermidas grinned, "Never have I sucked one I did not find so."
"Never yet have I sucked a boy," Lycidas sighed, "Many have been in my mouth but none have I sucked as you have taught me how to suck."
It may be that they spoke too loud or that some capricious zephyr took their words and carried them to the Pelan boy, for he turned to see who it was that spoke so openly of the things he had this last night dreamed of and saw the naked Spartan and the Olympic Champion, who was not naked but wore a tunic on his body and a crown of olive on his head.
The Pelan boy believed he had dreamed a dream and that dream had wakened his mind to cock, and so he had, but also had he the seed of Apollo inside him now, and always does that seed create in a boy the need for cock more; be that the cock of man or boy or both matters not, his thoughts ever are on cock.
Thus it was that the slight and slender Pelan boy gathered up his tunic, though he donned it not, but walked naked with an arm of Hermidas about his waist, who's other arm was in similar fashion around the Spartan boy, towards the bed of the Olympic Champion where much would he learn both of the cock of a man and also the cock of a boy, for both would he make great use of, as use of him would be made by them.
Thus did the Olympic Champion gain both the prize he had wished for, and also that one that he had won, and both gave him much delight, for truly, what delight is there greater for a man than that to be found in the body of a boy, unless it be that Fortune delivers him two to enjoy at the same time and in the same bed?