A retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice story through a gay lens with authoritarian and kink themes blended in. Experience the love between Orpheus and Eurydikos in Ancient Greek times with myth, magic and kinky sex that will keep your heart (and cock) pounding. This is the story of Orpheus and Eurydikos.
The day had come for Theron to finally claim me. He stood, and the room didn’t fall silently gradually, but it stopped altogether, as if a single breath had been collectively held. Theron did not look at me. He addressed the room, his voice the clear, commanding baritone of a born leader, but his words were for me.
Brasidas turned his gaze back to me, and I saw the claim, the obsession, the brutal desire he seemed to have for me return to his eyes with a devastating clarity. "This war between us ends now, do you understand? Now I will show you what it truly means to be my eromenos.”
Brasidas huffed at me, and spit onto the ground at my feet. “Your brother, Alexandrios…," he said, hearing my brother’s name spoken aloud seemed to hit me harder than I expected, "…had a fire that could have lit up all of Greece." His voice, usually a gravelly command, softened into something I did not recognize from him.
With a guttural sound that was half agony, half surrender, he crossed the room and his mouth crashed down on mine. All the fear, the rage, the public humiliation, the private torment—it all poured into that kiss. It was desperate and furious and tender all at once.
"This is you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine as he moved inside me. He stilled me, forcing my body to relax, his rhythm now a desperate but forceful deliberate reclaiming. “This, right here.” His hand gripped my pectoral muscle, his fingers outlining my heart. “This is mine. Remember? He cannot touch this."
The Minotaur's member was as long as a spear, and looked as much as dangerous. Theseus had ventured into the depths of the Labyrinth to slay the beast, yet found himself navigating the equally perilous maze of his own soul. What secrets lie at the very heart of the Labyrinth? Will the fated hero be able to conquer the abominable creature?
I stood as tall as I could and lifted my chin upward. "I knelt to him. I gave him my oath. I am his eromenos now, in truth." I kept my voice even. "The training… it is not what you think. It is an agreement. And I have chosen to obey." Theron stared at me as if I were a stranger, someone else standing before him.
He began to move, not with the force I was expecting, but with a slow, deliberate calculation, his hands releasing my chest, moving all over my torso in a claiming I didn’t understand. I kept my eyes closed as he used me. This was my duty. I belonged to him. Erastes and erominos. Sparta’s acceptable union.
I fought for a feeling. For the memory of Theron's mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the look in his eyes that saw me, and not the ghost of a better son. And that feeling, that secret warmth, was the only reason my trembling legs still held me up. It was not my weakness. It was the only strength I had left.
“You will learn discipline,” Brasidas grunted, his breath smelling of metal and wine. “You will learn strength. You will learn that a mind is nothing without the will to enforce it.” He released me, and I stumbled back a step, my skin burning where he had touched me.
399 BC. 18 year old Lysander is about to be claimed by a teacher, to be taught the ways of the Spartan Soldier, to become a true pupil, an eromenos to an honoured soldier, and to be tethered to the man he has fallen in love with. Only there are other suitors, and Lysander is about to begin a journey that will go against all Sparta stands for.
Machiste, the champion of Thebes is challenged by Ursus the giant wrestler of a rival kingdom. The prize for the winner is the city of Thebes. Will Machiste continue to defend his people or will Ursus end the story of Machiste and take over his people and land.
The owner of the diner I frequented asked me to hang some of my photography art in his restaurant after closing. The prints were all hung, but they weren't the only thing well hung, and I mean WELL HUNG. I had no idea this married man was bisexual until he gave me proof.
Konstantinos is forty-three and has Dimitri living with him. The nineteen year old moved in on Konstantinos after a clandestine fuck in a ruined store. The temperature is rising in modern Thessaloniki, Greece and Dimitri just loves to jerk Konstantinos' chain. This is a stand alone story with no planned follow-up.
After twenty years in exile, former First Lieutenant Theofilos Christodoulou returns to his grandmother’s cottage in a quiet Greek village, scarred by war and silence. The village remembers him. So does Aris Alexiou, the baker’s son, who once kissed him beneath the olive trees. Aris married. Theo vanished. Regret lingers like salt in the air.
Moro is a nineteen year old twink from Athens, he has a 'thing' for older men and likes to give blow jobs when he can and preferably where he can be seen.
The adventure is derailed by theft. The five adventurers must seek help and come across a strange helper. With honest words, convoluted reasons, and dirty thoughts, a path forward appears.
Andreas Cantacuzino the Ionian King—billionaire, strategist, untouchable. He built empires with silence, brokered power with a glance, and walked through the world like it belonged to him. Even legends fracture. On a private beach on Antipaxos, the myth began to slip—no cameras, no surveillance, just a quiet moment with an intern.