THE HYSPERIAN RHAPSODY
(Book One of ODE TO FOX Series)
PrologueHurry! You are not too late yet. I saved you a front row seat. The smokey room is dimly lit, the small crowd is going wild, all eyes are on the two gorgeous young women fighting it out in the middle of the wrestling mat. The slender blonde, clad in a golden two-piece bikini, is clearly on the defensive, back-peddling and stumbling, trying hard to defend against her opponent's ferocious slaps and punches. Her auburn-haired tormentor, donning a silver two-piece, cuts a slightly fuller figure. And she is really taking advantage of that size difference, pummeling her smaller foe without mercy. Perhaps sensing an inevitable victory, she attacks relentlessly before finally catching the blonde, seizing her by the hair, and ramming her back hard against the wall in a loud THUD. A vicious knee to the gut has the blonde keeling over, sending her down onto the mat right in front of me. The poor girl is all curled up, wincing in pain. Her strained face is flushed red with veins popping out on her forehead about to burst. She just got the wind knocked out of her. Seizing the moment, the redhead grabs her by the hair, forcing her head onto the mat, and assertively plants that weighty ass hard on her face, driving it down forcefully, burying her nose and mouth under the sweaty crotch, all before the gasping blonde can catch her breath! I can see the fear in the her panic-stricken eyes as she struggles in vain. But it is quickly over for her. Her eyes begin to roll back and her body gradually goes limp underneath. In a raw display of savagery, the redhead has just snuffed out her rival with overwhelming dominance right before my eyes.
The Amazonian Kiss of Death, that's what they called the move, as it was purportedly used by the ancient Amazons to smother out their enemy in single combat. Not letting up on her defeated adversary, the redhead anchors down her ample hips and squeezes those powerful thighs, crushing the now-unconscious blonde's face with still unrelenting suffocation. The room falls dead silent with only victor's panting breath, as everyone is stunned over this sequence of subjugation. There is no screams of pain, no muffled cries of surrender, just pure cold-hearted brutality. Never have I witnessed a catfighter being put out cold with such authority. The exploding sound of a nice round of applause finally shocks me out my stupefaction. Still sitting on her subdued foe's face, the redhead finally breaks a smile in satisfaction. She scans her eyes across the room, before fixing her sight on mine (since I am sitting right in front of her.) With a naughty look on her face, she reaches back, finding the knot that fastened the blonde’s golden panty around the hip. Without taking her inviting gaze off me, she playfully pulls on that bikini string, slowly loosening the knot as if unwrapping a precious gift box. Her lips pucker up as her eyes wander down my body, lingering on my hardened rod bulging out of my suit pants. With a sly smile on her face knowing she's got me exactly where she wants me, the redhead teasingly unties the blonde's bikini string on the other side, before slipping her hand under in a mischievous manner, reaching for the private spot of her vanquished adversary, caressing gently that tender flesh. This must be turning her on too, as she uncontrollably gyrates a little atop the loser's face. But her temperament changes quickly. Her sensual and arousing look suddenly turns malicious and sadistic. She grits her teeth and cinches her fingers deep into that vulnerable place. But much to my surprise, there is no reaction from her defenseless opponent beneath, who appears to be still out cold. Satisfied with the blonde's utter decimation, the redhead begins to strip her, slowly pulling that loosened bikini bottom from between her sprawled legs, unveiling to us at last that long-awaited prize. She claspes the panty in her hand and raises her arm in victory to another round of applause, proudly displaying her trophy for all to see. Then she brings it in front of her, examines it closely before gently brushing it against her own nose, taking in a deep breath, savouring the scent of yet another victim conquered under her ass. Seeing me gawking at the sight, she twirls the panty with her fingers and flings it towards me. Of course I quickly catch it. It is soaking wet, drenched in the blonde's sweat and possibly some other juice. I can smell her pungent scent, which may put off some people, but I like it very much. Having completed the conquest, the redhead dismounts from the blonde's face, and proceeds to fold her motionless body in half, with her round ass raised high up in the air above her head. Kneeling behind, her conqueror spreads her thighs wide apart, exposing full-frontal her shame for our viewing pleasure. Oh how I would jump up and fuck that pink pussy right there in front of everyone, if weren't for the fight club's rule of watch but no touch. Reading my mind, the redhead gives me a titillating look, skimming the tip of her tongue across her upper lip, as if saying to me: I can have my way with her because I earned it, baby; and you, on the other hand, can just watch me. She casts her eyes down at the feast laid out in front of her, and gives that tender juicy cxnt a long hard lick with the flat of her tongue that would surely have sent the blonde moaning in ecstasy if she were conscious to feel it. Having thoroughly humiliated her beaten rival, the redhead now gets up on her feet. She cannot resist slapping contemptuously that inviting ass still raised so high in the air, and stamping her foot firmly atop that conquered pussy, posing for victory photos. After a fusillade of camera flashes, our champion finally walks off the mat to sign autographs for the Polaroids, leaving alone her unconscious opponent still naked in that awkward position. I beg her to sign across the blonde's bikini bottom that is still in my possession, for which she is more than willing to oblige. It took long enough, but the medical personnel finally arrives. Taken aback by the ungainly sight of the loser, they quickly unfold the pitiful blonde, lift her lifeless body onto a stretcher and carry her out the room.
What a fight! I knew you'd get a rise out of it. So you too are a big catfight fan? Come, I will buy you a drink and we can talk more. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Stefanos, and I am Greek. I was born and raised in Athens before immigrating here as a teenager. I will be turning 30 in just a few days. This sweaty bikini from that whipped blonde sure makes a nice birthday present. How did I get hooked on catfighting, you ask? Well, that's a long story. Here, grab a beer first. You know we Greeks are always very proud of our long history. When I was growing up, just like all the other young boys my age, I was fed a healthy dose of Ancient Greek epics and mythologies. “Courage and honor, temperance and perseverance, heed those lessons from the Iliad and the Odyssey." My father used to always tell me, "These books will guide you for the rest of your life." But whenever my mind roamed free, it tended to only dwell on scenes like when Athena destroyed Aphrodite in front of her lover Ares and brutalized those tasty tits; or when Hera bitch-slapped her step-daughter Artemis and taught her a lesson in obedience; or when Odysseus conquered that sultry enchantress Circe and fucked her hard in her own palace for a year before being dragged away by his crew. I guess I didn't take in the right lessons my father wanted me to learn. But it wasn't just the classics that captured my fancy. There was a comic shop down in the Piraeus (the port city of Athens) that I used to go quite often after school and on weekends to buy comic books with my lunch money, and read them afterwards by the seaside. I remember one fateful Sarurday morning that forever changed my life. I went down to the Piraeus as usual, flipping through my favourite comic in the shop when I heard a hoarse voice from behind me.
"Reading that American trash again, boy?"
I turned around, it was the owner of the shop, a portly old man in his seventies with a distinctively long grey beard. Papa Aoidos, that’s what we all called him because he was so good at telling stories (I never found out his real name).
"Wonder Woman is my favourite comic, Papa Aoidos!" I didn’t think his comment was fair.
"Then you must know her origin, Stefanos. Where is she from?”
"Of course, she is an Amazon from Themiscrya.” That was too easy for a big fan like myself.
"Do you know the real history of these Themiscryan Amazons?” The old man pressed on.
I didn't think I understood his question. "No...you mean these female warriors actually existed?"
“Yes, of course they did, in ancient times, before recorded history, before even the Trojan War, during the dark ages of myths and legends. Have you heard of the Attic War, my boy?"
"No…” I wasn’t sure whether I should be embarrassed for my ignorance.
“Young man, you really ought to know the history of your own people better." He grew a little impatient, “Do you ever wonder why there is no mentioning of the Athenians in the Trojan War when we were the strongest polis in Ancient Greece?"
“I don’t know, Papa Aoidos. I never thought about that.” I got a bit tired of the old man’s didactic tone, but something about the fighting Amazons aroused my curiosity.
“It's because Attica was ravaged by those cursed Themiscryan Amazons some two hundred years before the Trojan War, in a brutal conflict that was later termed the Attic War. So when Agamemnon rallied the Greek troops at Aulis before setting off for Troy, Athens was only a tiny village at the time, but a shadow of its former glory." The old man explained and was eager to tell me more, "Melissa, look after the shop for me, would you? I have much to teach this young lad here."
Melissa, his granddaughter, was doing her homework by the counter. She was about my age, a very pretty girl with long shiny black hair. She always wore a short tank top and a pair of fit blue jeans that accentuated her features really well. I had a secret crush on her back then, but I was too shy a boy to talk to her. As the old man grasped my hand and pulled me out of the shop, she gave me a sweet but mischievous smile, teasing at my misfortune of having to be her grandpa’s latest target.
"Come boy, let's go to the seaside where we can have some peace.” The old man grabbed his cane at the front door and urged me on. I followed as he lumbered down the street faster than I’d ever seen him. Luckily the oceanfront was only one block away. Arriving there, we sat down by the ruins of the ancient Themistoclean Wall. It was a really secluded place back then, unlike the tourist trap it is today.
I let the old man catch his breath a bit before asking, “So Papa Aoidos, who are these Themiscryan Amazons, and why did they attack Athens?"
“My dear boy, these golden-haired female warriors made up the largest Amazon tribe in the ancient world. They named their city Themiscrya, built along the Thermodon River in modern day Turkey. So you see, the animosity between Greece and Turkey goes way back for over three thousand years. It all started at the sacred Eleusinian Games (in Eleusis just west of Athens), when Prince Diokles of Athens lost his wrestling match against the Amazonian Queen Parithyia. Entranced by her beauty and power, the foolish prince was overcome by lust. However, his attempt to rape the queen next day was thwarted, and he was brutally castrated by her for his transgression. Thoroughly disgraced, Diokles turned his infatuation for her into a sickly obsession for revenge and humiliation. Through much scheming and connivance, he got his hands on the queen’s loincloth with the help of a mysterious sorceress. Standing before the Athenian crowd, the prince dangled her leopard-skin undergarment as a trophy of victory, and boasted a fantastical tale of how he challenged Parithyia to a wrestling rematch and utterly conquered her before stripping her naked and taking her virginity. The Amazonian Queen was livid when she heard the news in the Piraeus where she stayed. For five centuries since the Heliades (mortal daughters of the sun god Helios) founded of the Amazon nation, no man had ever laid eyes on an Amazonian queen in nude and lived to talk about it. The Amazons viewed the chastity of their queen as divine authority. To be defamed by Diokles and to lose her loincloth to him was the ultimate humiliation for Parithyia. Teeming with rage, she picked up her spear and stormed out the tent before her trusted companion Hekate reminded her how vastly outnumbered they were in Attica. The prudent Hekate finally convinced the raging queen to return to Themiscrya first so she can raise an army to reclaim her honor. Meanwhile in Athens, Diokles capitulated under the pressure from his father Creon, the wise king of Athens, who thought it foolish to bring death upon thousands of people over such senseless pride. The prince sent an apology and invited Parithyia to discuss the terms of peace on neutral ground. The place chosen was Hysperia, a sacred island to the almighty snake goddess Isshara in the middle of the Cyclades. The high priestess on the island forbade the landing of an army that would otherwise sully the holy ground, so Parithyia was accompanied only by Hekate. For days, nothing was heard from the negotiation, until finally news traveled to Themiscrya that their queen had disappeared and Hekate was captured alive by the Athenians. Enraged at the betrayal by the Greeks, the Amazons assembled their troops and summoned all their allies across the Euxine. They elected the young Marpesia, sister of Parithyia, as their new queen and leader of the coalition. A thousand ships were launched across the Hellespont, as the Amazons formally declared war on Attica and our glorious city Athens. Thus began the brutal Attic War that lasted for six excrutiating years. These golden-haired savages were ruthless. Thousands of our bravest warriors fell under their spears and arrows. But the impregnable high walls of the city withstood their repeated assaults. King Creon pleaded for mercy and peace. Yet even when Prince Diokles was slayed by Marpesia in single combat, the coalition troops could not be appeased. Finally, it was through the betrayal of the Athenian princess Semele, the half-sister of Diokles, that our city fell to the enemy. The massacre that followed was known to the ancients as the Rape of Athens. For seven days, houses were burned, temples were looted, women and girls were taken as slaves while young boys were slaughtered. The streets were ladened with withered up corpses of men drained empty of their male essence. Oh, the carnage we suffered. It was the worst destruction brought upon our city in its entire history..." The old man looked to be shaken up a bit, as if he had lived through the experience.
Mesmerized by the tale, I was anxious to learn more. "Papa Aoidos, please tell me more about the war, and how they fought. Why did Princess Semele betray the Athenians? And what happened on Hysperia? Did the Amazons find Parithyia?" I bombarded the old man with questions.
“Slow down, my boy. Six long years of war, six long years of sweat, tears, and blood, of love, lechery, and destruction, of honor, betrayal and grief, oh how do I even begin? It would take weeks and months to tell the whole story. Perhaps some day in the future if fate allows, I shall narrate the story to you in full. But for now, how about I recite to you the Hysperian Rhapsody instead?"
"What is the Hysperian Rhapsody?”
“It is an epic poem that took place in the aftermath of the war. When the Amazons sacked Athens and freed Hekate from her imprisonment, she recounted to them her ordeal, and the leaders of the coalition formed an expedition back to the sacred island of Hysperia in search of their lost queen Parithyia. These were ten greatest female warriors surviving the war, led by their new queen Marpesia, along with her sister Bithynia, the faithful Hekate, the veteran Nacole, the Taurian nymph Cyrene, the Sinopean Amazon Nephele, the Athenian defector Semele, the Mysian fleet captain Aspasia, the Thracian cavalry commander Kalliope, and the young Cimmerian princess Thisbe. The poem recounts their confrontation with the priestesses of Isshara, the ensuing conflicts and their ultimate demise on the island of Hysperia.” Pausing here for a moment, the old man hesitated as if regretting a bit his hastiness in offering me the tale. He looked me straight in the eyes. “My dear Stefanos, this is a sombre epic that reveals only the darkest nature of women, with their uncontrollable lust, envy, and rage. You will never look at the fair sex the same way again. Are you sure you are ready to hear what is beyond your age?"
His words only added fuel to my fire. I nodded my head eagerly, innocent of what was to come. But there was a long break of silence. We just stared blankly off into the distance, where the deep blue Aegean glimmered under the morning sun. Cool ocean breeze brushed gently against our faces. Amidst the ancient ruins of that bygone world we sat, lulled by the soothing sound of waves crashing repeatedly into those ageless shorelines. Time itself seemed to have stopped.
Sudden squawks of two squabbling seagulls above our head broke the tranquility. As if yielding to a divine omen, the old man finally let out a long sigh, and with his husky voice, embarked us on our journey to the captivating land of catfighting.
