Date: Wed, 26 Sep 2012 18:03:38 -0400
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthierdc@gmail.com>
Subject: Naked Prey: Ikaros

				Ikaros
				Naked Prey 18
				by George Gauthier

Don't let it concern you that you have not read the earlier stories in this
series. Each installment is an independent story in its own right, with its
own hero and setting in time and place. Fair warning: This narrative
contains explicit and graphic depictions of gay sex.

	     Chapter 1. Knossos, Crete in the Late Bronze Age

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Daedelos called cheerily to the supine figure of his
son Ikaros who gave no sign of stirring despite a gentle shake on the
shoulder. But then, the father always was a morning person, bouncing out of
bed bright eyed and bushy tailed, eager to face the day. By contrast, the
youthful Ikaros, was your typical sixteen year old going on seventeen and
notoriously difficult to rouse in the morning. Well, except for that stiff
morning wood cantilevered proudly from a virtually hairless groin over a
flat belly, a crusty white patch giving evidence of a nocturnal emission
during sleep.

The boy lay entirely unclad and uncovered, his lithe body stretched atop a
bottom sheet, the only bedclothes needed in the heat of late spring, though
the morning was still comfortably cool. Clinging to sleep, Ikaros rolled
over onto his stomach, snorting inarticulately into his pillow, his
buttocks clenching once or twice as he rubbed his erection against the
sheet. Fond father though he was, Daedelos knew that the two of them had
better things to do that to lie slugabed in the morning, so he brought a
calloused hand down onto the boy's bare rump with a cheery smack.

No way even a confirmed sleepyhead like pretty little Ikaros could continue
to feign sleep. He sat up with an exaggerated yelp, rubbing his rump,
trying to guilt trip the older male with a reproachful look, but the father
shrugged it off.

"Now you know that I am right son, so no pouting. Morning chores first,
then breakfast."

"Yes sir," the boy said, not really put out. Sleepyhead he might be, but
never a lazybones. With no live-in servants, the two had to make do for
themselves. His chores were an accepted part of the closeted life the two
of them lead in their isolation in the Labyrinth.

While the boy yawned and stretched his lithe limbs like a cat, Daedelos
claimed first use of the outdoor shower then slipped into a simple
loincloth. With a toss of his blond locks, the boy slipped off his pallet
and went about his chores still in the rude nude: raising the shutters,
stirring the banked fire, and sweeping the slate floor, before preparing
their simple breakfast, remaining entirely naked even after his own
shower. He would next be off to the exercise fields to join the other
ephebes for their regular sessions of bare-ass exercise and weapons
drill. And he would remain nude afterwards.

A born exhibitionist, Ikaros never wore clothing these days. He loved to
prance around naked, showing off the trim and taut body he had so recently
grown into and was so proud of. He had seized on a casual remark from the
king, that a body as beautiful as his was a gift of the gods and should
never be concealed from view by clothing, taking the passing remark as a
royal command. The shameless youth hadn't worn a stitch in the three years
since and wasn't planning on doing so any time soon.

For which his appreciative public was supremely thankful. Halfway to
seventeen years of age but standing no taller than a boy three years
younger, Ikaros was an intensely comely lad with a wiry physique reaching
not quite three inches over five feet (160 cm) and weighing only 106 pounds
(48 kg). Lithe and gracile, the youth was slender as a fawn though his
sculpted musculature argued against calling him skinny. The flawless skin
was lightly tanned from perpetual nudity and entirely glabrous, smooth and
naturally hairless, a condition related to his failure to reach full
height.

From tiny red nipples perched atop quite respectable pectorals to a deeply
indented navel, to narrow hips framing a surprisingly generous manhood for
one so slight of build, the youth was real beauty. Cock and balls were of
reasonable size, but he wouldn't be scaring the horses. It took both his
small hands to cover his erection, but only one when he was soft. That was
just fine when you spent your days stark naked with your dangly bits
bouncing about with every movement.

He was as beauteous of face as of form. Ikaros was prettier than any boy
rightly ought to be with fine-boned delicate features: a straight nose and
high cheekbones over a chiseled jaw line, plus large green eyes with
eyelashes so long they could never have been meant for a boy, all topped by
a tousled blond thatch. It was obviously no blade had ever scraped his
cheeks or had needed to. He was naturally beardless, without even a hint of
peach fuzz.

His father Daedelos had no problem with Ikaros' perpetual public nudity. He
knew that Ikaros was at that age when Minoan boys were wont to go around
naked as often as possible. For boys that age, male hormones raging in
their veins, habitual public nudity was a form of courtship display, though
obviously not directed toward the female half of the species who kept to
their own precincts. (In that society, males and females did mix much till
the age of marriage in their mid-twenties.) No the brazen display of nudity
by the youth of the island was all about same-sex lovers.

Some boys sought youths their own age for innocent fun and frolic. Others
were after a more serious relationship with an older lover, a grown man,
who, as the boy's erastes or mentor, would take a boy under his wing and
guide him in his social, intellectual, and sexual development. No taint of
effeminacy was attached to the boy for taking the passive role in sex. A
pederastic relationship with an older lover was aimed at fostering the
boy's sense of masculinity and inculcating in him the martial virtues
including courage, loyalty, and constancy.

All that aside, for quite practical reasons, it was common for young males
to go around habitually nude, especially those of the lower classes. Boys
working the fishing boats just off the coast never bothered with clothing
which would only absorb the stink of the fish. In the town, there were
always naked boys coursing the streets bearing messages, their nudity a way
for his master to show off a cute catamite or body slave. The only thing
that distinguished these boys from the 'pornoi' or enslaved male
prostitutes was that their foreskins were not infibulated to forestall
masturbation.

In their own districts, around potters' kilns, the furnaces of glassmakers,
or the ovens of bakers and brick makers, the boys who tended the kilns and
ovens habitually worked totally naked as a way to cope with the
heat. Sweating furiously, they would step away for water, both to drink and
to pour some over their heads and naked bodies. Men and boys toiling in the
fields and vineyard, and orchards under the hot sun often worked naked both
to stay cool and to keep their clothes clean. It was an age when cloth was
expensive and very hard to clean, long before the invention of soap and
detergents.

And so Ikaros left his father, hurrying his steps, eager to join the
ephebes at their training.

There was only the one gate out of the Labyrinth, its twin leaves made of
stout oak reinforced with bronze. Father and son both passed through the
gates frequently, though usually only one at at time, unless under
guard. King Minos, suspicious soul that he was, was fearful lest a rival
ruler snatch from his employ the greatest inventive genius of the age. The
guards were there to keep intruders out, not to keep father and son in.

Situated on the western slope of the hill the palace sat upon, the
Labyrinth had started as an old property demarcation line, nearly square
and surrounded by a hedgerow a mile in length. It was nothing like a modern
clipped hedge. Two centuries of growth and shaping had made for a living
fence twelve feet tall, half of earth and half of dark green hedge. The
earthen wall at the base was a dirt parapet from one to four feet in
thickness which rose to chest height.  Growing atop the wall was a hedge of
hawthorn, brambles, vines, and trees, armed with thorns and nettles and
clinging vines, planted as a triple row and overlapped so as to grow
together into a thicket that was literally impenetrable. A man could not
force his body through it even in full armor, which after all protected
only select parts of the body. Above that, the springy green tangle defied
bronze blades. You could chop at it all day with little result. You
couldn't even dig you way through the compacted soil and roots of the dirt
parapet. Not easily.

The Labyrinth's reputation as a maze was not due to planned trickery but
rather to the asymmetrical addition of secondary lines of hedges in the
interior and the haphazard placement over the years of structures like
retaining walls, porticos, residences, sheds, and storehouses, forges,
arsenals, and weapons ranges. The enclosure even boasted a pool of water,
both a reservoir and for testing model ships. The latest addition was a
structure with high ceilings and colorful frescoes that housed the
Minotaur.

More than the Labyrinth itself, the palace complex was a genuine maze of
workrooms, living spaces, and storerooms in wings and outbuildings
surrounding a central square. More than just the residence of the king,
with its more than a thousand rooms, it was the civic, religious and
economic center of a maritime empire. Though built atop a low hill five
kilometers from the coast, it was completely unfortified, relying on Minoan
naval power to keep hostile forces from Cretan shores.

The training fields were situated just east of town in grassy meadows that
flanked the river. The open terrain featured a meandering running track,
wrestling pits, and rows of straw targets for practice with javelin and
bow. The river was there for swimming. Ikaros could hold his own in
running, jumping, and swimming. Sleek and limber, he was at home in the
water as an otter. His own physique might be light-boned and wiry rather
than muscular, but that made Ikaros quick and nimble.

Ikaros fully appreciated the fact that he and the other boys were there to
build their strength and to improve their martial skills. But the main
attraction for him was the company of the boys themselves. No audience was
better for showing himself off than his fellow ephebes, virtually all of
them potential sex partners for a randy youth like him.

On the training grounds, he was surrounded by so many handsome boys, all
with strong, healthy bodies. Some were built for strength, all bone and
muscle and sinew. Others were made for endurance, with lean builds, long
legs, and deep chests. Just the sight of them, entirely nude and with their
skins glistening with olive oil and sweat, was a real turn on. None of the
boys was body shy, so Ikaros was often greeted with hugs or head rubs or
kisses or friendly slaps to his rump.

With his slight build, Ikaros wasn't a standout at wrestling, but he loved
that sport anyway. Win or lose, wrestling gave him a chance to grapple the
sexy bodies of his contemporaries and to be held close by them. He loved
the feel of their arms around his body, strong hands grasping and gripping,
squeezing his balls, painfully twisting his arms behind him to establish
their control. For their part, wrestling with pretty little Ikaros was a
form of foreplay, for the boy often bestowed his favors on the
winner. Hence they loved to grab and hold on to his sexy little body as he
struggled, all slick with sweat and olive oil, tugging, pulling, and
squirming in their arms, twisting and straining that tight little body of
his. Even more than usual the effort made his veins stood out prominently
under the taut skin of his slender limbs.

Sore muscles and all, Ikaros didn't really mind losing most of his
bouts. There was no shame in being overpowered and tamed by the larger,
stronger, and more aggressive young males. As for giving them a crack at
his ass, well that is what submissive boys were obliged to do anyway, to
provide the lads with an outlet for their sex drives. They loved to slip
their rampant young manhoods into the moist velvet glove of his innards,
letting the peristaltic action of his bowels force them deeper into his
quim and massage them to climax.

And then there were the impromptu group encounters, not very often but very
exciting for all participants. More than once after a training session with
the ephebes Ikaros suddenly found himself surrounded by a group of six or
seven randy boys, none of them will to wait for the next wrestling match
and a crack at a one on one encounter with the incomparably sexy
youth. Nothing for it but for the lad to shrug his shoulders and slack his
limbs in surrender, letting them seize him and carry him triumphantly to a
secluded spot in the rushes. There four of them would spread his limbs in
an X, another clamping his thighs around his neck to hold him in
place. Immobilized like that, Ikaros was well and truly caught, absolutely
helpless, all his orifices available to the others for penetration. After
they took him in turn, his belly and bum sloshed with their cum and his
asshole was rubbed raw.

Some of the more fastidious boys preferred old-fashioned intercrural
intercourse, where the bottom boy squeezed his legs together as the boy on
top thrust his cock between the upper thighs just under the buttocks,
poking the bottom boy's ball sac as well. It was a faster way to climax
because the cock was squeezed along its entire length, not just where it
was in contact with the sphincters. That increased the friction between the
warm flesh of thighs and cock. But for pleasure it was a poor second to the
warm moistness of a boy's quim.

Ikaros was honest enough with himself to admit that this state of affairs
was as much his doing as anyone else's. He really was a cock tease, a boy
entirely too vain about his sexy little body, going about perpetually in
the nude to keep it on display, trolling for custom like the most blatant
pornoi. He very much wanted other males, both older men and boys his own
age, to see how cute he was and to check out the firmness of his buns as he
walked by and to note how fetchingly they dimpled as he pranced about.

Whistling as he walked, Ikaros approached the entrance to the Labyrinth
unhindered and found himself the recipient of an overly possessive pat on
the rump from sergeant Laodamas, one of the royal guards. This man was
forever feeling him up, making advances, or just plain having his way with
the boy, both his mouth and his ass.

The blond youth sighed, turning himself resignedly toward the tall figure,
a dark haired young man of twenty and with a ruddy face, who loomed head
and shoulders over him. His arms and armor and crested helmet emphasized
the difference in size and strength and authority between the slightly
built youth, entirely nude and unarmed as he was, and the formidable figure
of the fighting man. Notably small for his age, mild mannered and
unaggressive, Ikaros had long ago learned that he could never prevail in
these encounters and could only submit to whatever use was demanded of his
young body by stronger males.

That morning sergeant Laodamas stopped him at the gate, ostensibly for a
complete body search, one to which Ikaros submitted with ill-grace since he
was in a hurry. Couldn't the man understand that Ikaros had important work
to do, and that entertaining the guards with his sweet body was not
necessarily the top priority of the moment? It was not that the youth had
any objections to male sex or to providing carnal service to older
males. As a natural submissive, Ikaros accepted the passive role as
entirely right for him. And he knew it was expected that he and his fellow
ephebes would serve older males sexually. But his chief duty was to assist
his father construct devices and weapons and ship fittings for the king. In
his own mind, that didn't leave a lot of time for playing sex games with
lusty guards, even young men as handsome as Laodamas. That being so, Ikaros
has tried to reason with the man who had demanded that he submit to a full
body search.

"Honestly, Laodamas," Ikaros exclaimed with some asperity, green eyes
flashing, "I really have to attend to my duties in the workshop. Anyway,
how could I smuggle anything into the Labyrinth. I have nowhere to conceal
anything, stark naked as I am."

"Tut, tut, little one. don't be naive. An enterprising boy might insert
just about anything small and valuable up his quim: jewels, secret
messages, maybe keys to the treasure room."

Ikaros rolled his eyes.

Ignoring the boy's look of long suffering forbearance, the guard took
advantage of the youth's closeness and nudity, running his hands over the
narrow shoulders, down to his pectorals where his thumbs circled tiny red
aureoles, fingered the washboard abs and finally cupped and weighed the
boy's genitals in his right hand, his thumb toying idly with the flaccid
cock, slipping the foreskin back and forth.

"Tsk, tsk. And here I had hoped you would be happy to see me again. You
should realize, young Ikaros that in carrying out these searches, I am only
doing my duty. I am enjoined by those above me to be thorough. Now, there's
a good lad. Bend over and brace your forearms here on the wall, while I
probe your delightful bum for possible contraband."

The lusty guard started off with a pair of preliminary slaps to the boy's
buttocks to establish his dominance. Too bad there wasn't time for a full
spanking to get the butt cheeks properly red. He knew that for the boy, a
light spanking was something of a turn on. Slicking the boy's anal whorl
with a bit of olive oil, the guard set the head of his cock against the
ring of muscle guarding the boy hole. A slow push and slowly the head of
his cock and the first couple inches of his cock slipped inside. He lay his
chest onto the boy's back and shoved all the way in with a might thrust of
his hips. The boy gasped and gurgled at the sudden total penetration.

The rest of the "probe" for contraband went as you would expect and was
thorough indeed, thorough to the point of orgasm, the guard's. A fair man,
the sergeant made sure of the boy's relief as well.

It was no use complaining to authority. As far as the king was concerned:
any boy in bloom who was that sexy and good looking and made such a point
of running around starkers full-time flaunting his youthful sexuality
really invited such attentions. Everyone else agreed that being forced to
give it up now and again was no more than the pretty little cock tease
deserved. Besides, Myles, the captain of the guards was all for anything
that kept his men alert on boring sentry duty. He told them that if they
were lucky and alert, a complaisant nude youth of surpassing beauty might
swim into their ken while they were standing their posts. Someone they
could have their fun with.

Captain Myles himself was no more immune to the boy's charms than his men
and took sloppy seconds when he was could. The boy had to remain braced,
the first man's cum dripping out of his boy hole, while the second
addressed his ass. The captain liked a bit of foreplay. He would lay his
engorged cock in the crack of the boy's ass or whack the dimpled cheeks
with his fleshy club. No need to force himself inside. By now the boy was
well trained in the amatory arts. He bore down and smooched his nether
orifice wide to accept the captain's over-sized tool into its warm velvety
depths. But then, his ass could and did accommodate the Minotaur himself,
though thankfully the man-beast did not go into heat very often.

The boy sighed, resigned to such uninvited amatory attentions. Well, maybe
not wholly uninvited -- shameless boy that he was -- frequently strutting
about toes pointed inward to make his buttocks twitch and clench
suggestively. Just the thing to call attention to his pert rump and the way
his firm butt cheeks jutted out just the right amount with a sharp cleavage
in between. At least the soldiers were young and healthy and clean-shaven
and practiced excellent personal hygiene. A couple including the sergeant
were actually quite sexy, men to whom he would have willingly given
himself, but at a when and where of his own choosing. And, to be fair,
there was never any rough stuff, though the hapless youth might have to
endure all manner of personal indignities including double penetrations.

So, when all was said and done, the soldiers were fond of the complaisant
youth who surrendered himself to them. They just wanted fun sex with what
everyone acknowledged to be the most beautiful boy any of them had ever
laid eyes on. And woe betide any who tried to hurt their little cutie. They
would spring to his defense in an instant. It was the same when wrestling
the other ephebes. Ikaros knew he would most likely be overpowered and lose
the bout, but he tried his utmost to win and never threw a contest. But
given his petite physique, he nearly always came out second best and had to
give it up to the winner, often with the other boys watching
appreciatively.

Upon his return, Ikaros found his father busy at the small forge he used
when prototyping bronze fittings for ships. (Bronze resists the corrosion
of salt water.) Ikaros explained his lateness by simply mentioning Laodamas
name. The older male nodded in understanding. The youth used the shower and
a sponge to scrub off olive oil, sweat, and the smell of males and sex. He
bent over a rail while his father examined his anal whorl for tears and
fistula. Finding nothing amiss except for a little rawness, he rubbed a
soothing cream into the affected area, then let his son stand up again.

He wasn't angry at the carnal use made of his son. That was old news and
what ephebes were for anyway. That was especially true for a lad as
preternaturally beautiful as little Ikaros.

Ikaros did not mind the large degree of isolation brought on by his secret
work with his father in the Labyrinth. As a serious lad with a good head on
his shoulders, Ikaros had little patience for the dominance games and macho
posturing of so many in his age cohort. He was happy to work with his
father. At dusk, palace servitors passed fully cooked meals through a slot
in the wall near the gate. Later they took the dirty dishes away. Neither
of them had any complaints about the food. Tasty and nutritious, it was
basically what the kitchens served the king himself.

Actually the two males were not only father and son but also the best of
friends, collaborators, and each other's best company. Both were creative
tinkerers, forever turning out both useful inventions for the navy and
commerce and agriculture or intricate toys for the delight of the
court. There were always new problems and new challenges that taxed the
ingenuity of the inventive males in producing say new pumps for the mines
and aboard ship. Or a water clock whose gentle chimes sounded the hours
outside the king's bedchamber. Or a method of fabricating sword blades of
bronze that were less brittle and likely to break in combat.

		Chapter 2. The Minotaur

The night air carried the sound of the boy's bare feet slapping away at the
stones of the foot path, the led to the reservoir formed by a small dam
across the flow of the tiny creek that drained the enclosure. The still
waters reflected the crescent of the moon and the wandering star called
Zeus after the king of the gods. The boy used the pool as his personal
swimming hole. The moon was well above the horizon, throwing enticing
silver highlights over the boy's bare skin. He slipped into the water and
swam around for a bit, not very energetically for he was very tired this
evening. Turning over to float on his back, he sculled idly with arms and
legs while gazing up at the stars and feeling very much at peace.

He must have dozed off for he suddenly found himself breathing water into
his lungs, body bent at the waist, arms and legs flailing as his head sank
beneath the surface. Coughing water, he managed to get a grip on his panic,
telling himself that the pool, after all, was no more than chin deep and
even then only in the center. All he had to do was put his feet under him
and stand up.

That done still but dizzy on his feet he was grateful for the strong arm
that suddenly slipped around his back to help him maintain his
balance. That arm was long and powerful, all muscle and sinew and bone, the
arm of a giant among men, or rather of the boy's lifelong friend Oltos,
dubbed the Minotaur, who had heard the boy's distress and lent a hand.

"Thanks, Oltos" The boy sputtered his thanks to his large friend.

"Next time try an inflatable float, say a pair of pigs' bladders affixed to
the head and shoulders to keep your face above water while you slumber."

"That's not a bad idea actually, Oltos. You know, maybe chirurgeons could
let burn victims float while they heal instead of letting their body weight
press painfully down on their wounds."

From his size and fearsome appearance the common folk called the Minotaur a
man-beast. It was put about that he was part demon, a cannibal who lived on
human flesh, preferably that of young virgins and pretty youths, tearing
his victims limb from limb and consuming the meat raw.

Total nonsense. It is true that the Minotaur was a giant of man, nearly
seven feet tall and approaching four hundred pounds in weight, very little
of it fat. And he was bestially ugly. His head was one of Nature's cruel
jokes with a long skull dominated by a prognathous jaw armed with big flat
teeth, accented by a wide nose and long ears. What made men call him the
Minotaur or "Bull of Minos" was the pair of cutaneous horns about six
inches long, growing from the top of his head at his hairline. In shape
they did resemble those of a bull though very much shorter.

The Minotaur was one of Nature's sports, a gentle giant of a man with a
keen mind and a strong moral sense. Four years older than Ikaros, Oltos,
had taken a shine to baby Ikaros, had played with him as infant and toddler
and growing boy and given him rides on his broad shoulders or swung him
through the air. After the death of the inventor's wife, Oltos had helped
Deadelos raise his son to incipient manhood. Growing up with the Minotaur,
Ikaros had always seen him as a person of intelligence, warm humor, and
great strength. Lately their relationship had turned physical, for few
could resist the charms of the lovely youth, who, for his part, was
powerfully attracted by the Minotaur's overwhelming masculinity.

Unlike father and son, the Minotaur was confined to the Labyrinth. Peaceful
though he might normally be, he did have a temper and did not always know
his own strength. He had retaliated against those who had mocked him or
thrown stones at the "demon spawn". After several incidents leading to
death or maiming, all of which were provoked by the "victims" the King
thought it best to keep his illegitimate half-brother confined (or better,
assigned) full-time to the Labyrinth under conditions short of house
arrest, in an airy pavilion newly constructed for his comfort. It helped
that the man-beast had genuine talent as a metal smith and frequently
helped Daedelos shape bronze and brass and copper at his forge.

"Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight, Oltos. I feel so protected lying
next to that powerful body of yours. No sex, though, not tonight, if you
don't mind. I am exhausted."

"Whatever you say, my young friend, I too cherish the warmth of your tight
little body lying next to mine, spooned together. I cannot promise that I
won't get hard and lay my cock in the crack of your ass or poke it between
your thighs, but no penetrations, I promise."

At dawn, Ikaros awoke to find himself painfully erect with morning wood,
while the Minotaur's enormous erection pressed into the gully between his
ass cheeks, its head reaching past his tail bone. Tall about big ones. In
that respect at least, his lover was a monster. The big man's even
breathing showed he was still asleep.

Thinking this was too good an opportunity to pass up, Ikaros slid up the
bed a good ways, enough to bring his anus even with the head of Oltos's
cock. Bearing down, he squeezed himself open back there, engulfed the
swollen knob, then clamped down with his ass muscles on its sweet
spot. Let's see Oltos try to sleep through that!

For Oltos, it was a delightful way to wake up, the head of his cock
engulfed by the wet warmth of the quim of the boy he loved, squeezed and
kneaded by his the boy's well-trained ass muscles. Naughty of Ikaros,
taking advantage, mounting him in his sleep, reserving all the fun for
himself. Well now it was his turn. A boy who started such mischief was
obviously no longer too tired for sex play.

"Now you are in for it, little one. A right royal fucking, that is what you
need, and since I am a royal prince, that is exactly what you are going to
get. Gird yourself for a total impalement. I am going to shove my cock so
far up into you that you'll be able to taste it."

"Oooh," Ikaros squealed delightedly and pretended to struggle to escape the
clutches of his ravisher who had thrown one leg over the boy to pin him in
place. Oltos took the boy's nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinching
and twisting, and pulling the tender flesh. As one of Ikaros most sensitive
erogenous zones, nothing brought the heat to his belly faster than a lover
toying with his nipples. The mild pain in his chest triggered his ass
muscles to clutch at any cock penetrating his quim, squeezing and milking
it, trying to force it deeper.

Carried away be his hormonal drives, the boy tossed his head side to side
and wailed plaintively, but all his squirming accomplished was to let the
giant cock slide a couple inches deeper up his ass. He buried his face in
his pillow, moaning and gasping from the sharp pain as his sphincters
stretched impossibly wide. As the Minotaur's huge tool slipped dipper into
him, he threw his his head back in a silent scream. Arms reaching back to
his lover, every muscle straining, he presented the very picture of a bum
boy with a big one up his butt. But there was much pleasure too, a wave of
lust that soon had his small body shuddering helplessly in an internal
orgasm.

In due course the boy found himself in a familiar position, braced on his
knees, rump up, head down, arms crossed in front as his giant lover thrust
into him, controlling the pace by a firm grip on the boy's hips. So firm a
grip it would leave characteristic bruises that left no one in doubt how
Ikaros had acquired them. More than once, the lusty guard Laodamas had made
the boy bend over while he pointed out to the new men, the characteristic
bruises on the boy's ass cheeks where the Minotaur's fingers gripped him
during a fuck.

Given how randy both young males were, it did not take long for them to
climax. As Oltos shot his seed deep into Ikaros's bowels, his finger rubbed
the sweet spot on the boy's cock, just behind the knob setting him off and
making the boy's ass muscles clutch reflexively at the giant cock that
impaled him. The sensation was incredible It was one of those intense
orgasms where you see stars and can only slump to the bed in post-coital
lassitude. Still Ikaros knew he was late for his chores so after only the
briefest of rests, to get his breath back, he kissed his giant lover and
left.

Daedelos had awakened promptly at dawn by an alarm clock of is own
devising. In this case it was not one of the clever mechanical toys he had
created for his patron, King Minos of Crete. Instead it was but a clever
alignment of a horizontal window through the stone wall of his room and the
pillow on his pallet. To a man of simple tastes like Daedelos, royalty was
more than welcome to the abruptness and clamor of the chimes and bells in
the inventor's mechanical clocks. He looked over at his son's pallet.

Empty. No way that could mean his sleepyhead offspring was already up and
about. He must be with the Minotaur again. No need to guess what those two
were up to. Indeed across the enclosure he faintly heard the sounds of
lusty sexual congress, though much more the man-beast's triumphal roars
than the boy's squeals of delight.

Daedelos started about his daily routine, knowing his son would arrive in
due course to do his chores. Indeed, within the hour the boy returned to
their quarters, somewhat shamefaced. His father waited for him to make his
excuses, the very embodiment of patience, one eyebrow raised
interrogatively.

"Er, sorry I am late father. I stayed over with Oltos last night, and, well
er, one thing led to another …"

"Yes ... I can see that for myself," Daedelos remarked evenly. "what with
the bruises left by Oltos's big hands on your ass. And there is nothing
wrong with my hearing either, son."

The boy colored with a full body blush. A subdued pink hue, which an artist
would have loved to paint, suffused him from his hairline down to his
ankles. It didn't help any that the boy's much abused ass lips chose that
particular moment to smack and sputter wetly, discharging much of the semen
the Minotaur had deposited earlier up his quim. Some ran down his left
leg. The rest dribbled directly and audibly to the stone floor.

"Plip ... plip… plip."

Poor Ikaros squeezed his eyes shut, utterly mortified.

"Er... Maybe I should take a shower, first thing, father." he ventured.

"Good idea!" his father agreed. As the boy made his way to the shower, the
father doubled over with barely suppressed laughter. Poor Ikaros had been
so embarrassed it would have been thoughtless to laugh in his face. In time
this incident would become a joke between them. Shared laughter was so much
better than laughter at someone's expense.

Still as a father Daedelos was worried that the Minotaur might hurt his
son. Never deliberately of course, but Oltos was so huge -- almost four
times the mass of the petite Ikaros. On occasion the father had
accidentally come upon his son in the Minotaur's "embrace" and had been
forcibly struck by the disparity in the size of the lovers. With the boy on
all fours, Oltos covered his lover like a stallion does a filly, rutting
away at him with a giant cock that really could scare the horses. Just his
weight pressing down on Ikaros might smother him.

Despite the very real affection between the two lovers, feelings that went
beyond the admittedly strong physical attraction they felt for each other,
Daedelos felt it was his fatherly duty to see that his son formed a normal
attachment with an older male, someone who could introduce Ikaros into
polite society. He couldn't stay in a workshop forever. What Ikaros needed,
or at least what his father wanted for him, was an older lover, an erastes
to his eromenos. That is the social ideal of how an adolescent boy should
be brought up. This was a role the Minotaur, deformed and shut in as he
was, was unfortunately unable to play.

For the Greeks, including their Minoan predecessors, adolescence was the
time in the life of a boy when he was "in season" or "in bloom", say from
age fourteen or fifteen to nineteen or twenty. The age when a boy's
burgeoning sexual desires should be turned toward those of his own
gender. Females and marriage were for much later and mainly for
procreation. Far different from today, no boy then who loved men and
enjoyed lying with men and being embraced by them was considered
effeminate. Just the opposite.

The Greek love of boys was the keystone of their social system,
synergistically linked with the social seclusion of women, delayed marriage
(for upper-class males at least), the practice of nude athletics, the
gymnasium itself -- from Greek roots meaning 'naked exercise'-- and
symposia or drinking parties reserved exclusively for males. The male nude
was publicly celebrated in sculpture and painting, and love poetry.

Male social and sexual relationships were integral to military training. A
principal function of these pederastic relationships was to cultivate the
courage and fighting skills of the younger member of the pair. Under the
tutelage of the erastoi, the eromenoi practiced swordplay and archery and
wrestling though with a sexual frisson absent from other cultures. The
training grounds were excellent places for a lonely boy to find his
erastes, a relationship they would cement with sex.

So far Ikaros had taken any number of sex partners, though mostly boys his
own age. Not for lack of opportunity. Older males also used the exercise
fields or congregated to ogle the nude youths working. At times he paired
off with an older male, inviting a man to oil up his body, submitting his
sweet body to their willing ministrations. They were delighted at the
chance to caress and pet the boy everywhere, as they ostensibly prepared
him for exercise, rubbing olive oil into his unblemished skin. And if the
boy got an erection during the process, so much the better.

Shameless show-off that he was, Ikaros got a thrill out of that, standing
within a circle of admirers, with his arms held away from his body for
better viewing, skin kissed golden by the sun glistening with a sheen of
sweat and oil, his manhood tumescent, thrusting straight out from his
groin, its purpled glans shaped like an arrowhead, with a droplet of
pre-cum oozing from its tip. How terrific that made him feel, displaying
himself shamelessly, a pretty boy in heat, cock proud and strutting his
stuff, whirling so everyone could see his exquisite teenage body in a state
of full arousal, just bursting with youthful male assertiveness.

It sometimes happened that an aggressive older male would grab him by his
cock or ballsac and lead him off for an impromptu shag. Top men who saw no
point in wasting a good opportunity with a bum boy in heat, they knew from
long experience that sometimes, to get the attention of a young male, you
had to take him by the balls. And a stiff prick made a good handle too.

			Chapter 3. Golden Boy

In early summer Father and son were summoned to the palace for a meeting
with King Minos. Their escort trooped past the lacquered doors that opened
onto the throne room and into a much smaller room, one with less
ostentatious appointments than Knossos' formal rooms of state. The king was
seated on a wooden arm chair, dressed in a simple linen tunic. Only the
diadem around his brow (and the guards at attention inside the doorway)
indicated his rank. A practical man, the king did not have much use for
fancy dress-up and formal court etiquette except for occasions of state and
diplomatic receptions.

"Ah, there you are, Daedelos and Ikaros. How long has it been since we last
met in private just the three of us? Too long really. I hope you realize
how very much satisfied I have been these last years with all the
inventions and advances in techniques that you have developed. The kingdom
is the better for it. And I don't just mean better weapons for the guards
and the navy. You increased the flow of water from the aqueduct with an
improved design for its terra cotta pipes. And both town and palace smell
much better now that we have built separate systems for sewage and for
managing the run-off from our torrential rains. That design for plowshares
has raised agricultural yields tremendously, generating prosperity for all,
which builds support for the monarchy. My throne stands secure from any
internal threat."

"That brings me to potential threats from our northern neighbors. Unruly
and warlike, the lot of them are barbarians with a veneer of
civilization. Their kings seek riches by endless wars, either by looting
their weaker neighbors or forcing them to pay tribute. Here in Crete our
wealth derives from rationale organization applied to agriculture and from
trade. Our sea borne empire or thalassocracy rests on the superiority of
our warships against pirates which would prey on the cargo ships that carry
our olive oil, wine, and timber across the sea.

As you may have heard, the King of Argos will visit Crete soon. I need him
and his army as a counter to other mainland states. We have a strong navy,
true, but we would be hard pressed to assemble an army to fight a land
battle if ever a hostile force managed a lodgment on our coasts. And our
palaces and towns are unfortified. That is why I need an alliance with
Argos. The possibility of a counterattack by their army, supported by our
navy, would deter any aggressor. And vice-versa. We will also be extending
trade privileges to them. It's a fair deal for both kingdoms: greater
security without the need for an expensive military buildup. Even loyal
citizens complain if taxes go up too high."

"Where do we come in then, your majesty? Do you want us to prepare some
wondrous device to amaze your visitor, a clockwork automaton perhaps?"

"No, nothing like that at all. The thing is that Kodros, the king of the
Argolid fancies pretty boys. Now is there any boy in the realm as beautiful
as Ikaros here. I think not. Why if great Zeus didn't already have Ganymede
for his paramour, I daresay he would swoop down from Olympus in the form of
an eagle and carry Ikaros off to ravish him."

Daedelos frowned, not liking where this was going.

"Now, now, Daedelos, my friend. It is not that at all. I won't be handing
your boy over to Kodros as his sex slave. Kings can afford to have few
friends, but I consider you one of mine. Rest assured I would never do such
a thing. Besides my warm personal feelings for the both of you,
considerations of statecraft would argue against it. The last thing I need
is to alienate an inventive genius like yourself or provide a potential
rival with the technical expertise that your son, as your assistant,
carries in that pretty head of his."

"But I do expect the boy to attend the king during his stay here. And I
mean attend in every sense of that word."

Daedelos and Ikaros turned to each other and shrugged. So one more male
would have his chance at Ikaros' ass.

"No problem," they recited in unison.

"There is one more thing. We need a way for your boy to leave an indelible
impression on the king. We want him to bring back to Argos the memory of
the most beautiful youth he has ever seen and bedded. The question is how
do we improve on just trotting him out in the nude as he is now or maybe
having him dance lasciviously. What more can we do to highlight your boy's
extraordinary beauty and desirability? Naturally we don't want to dress
Ikaros in exotic clothing. I would very much prefer the boy remain in the
nude, as always.

"And suddenly the idea came to me. Well to my steward, to give credit where
it is due. We will present little Ikaros here to the king as a veritable
demigod: the golden youth of concupiscence. As the child of Aphrodite and a
mortal lover, there are none who can resist his charms.

That drew puzzled frowns from his uncomprehending interlocutors.

"I see that you don't grasp my meaning. Here's the thing. Our court painter
Orontes will coat the boy's entire skin with gold dust. He is already
working on how to do it. Get together with him and find some clear enamel
or something of the sort that you can mix with gold dust. It must stick to
the skin well enough that it does not come off for a few days or get rubbed
off during vigorous sex play. Above all, make sure it doesn't cause skin
irritation either to the boy or to the king!"

"That could work, your majesty."

In no time, Ikaros was turned over to the ministrations of the court
painter.

"Hmmn, your boy is naturally glabrous, Daedelos, virtually without body
hair, just a hint of fuzz in armpits and groin. Nevertheless, I will need
to use one of those unusually sharp blades you recently hammered from sky
metal [meteoric iron] to shave him absolutely clean, as smooth as a marble
statue."

Ikaros lay down nervously on a wooden table and spread his legs as the
artist ordered, clasping his hands behind his head, making the front of his
body available to the artist and his blades.  Daedelos stood next to him,
squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. Ignoring the boy's whimpers,
Orontes' deft hands denuded him of the wispy tokens of incipient manhood
under his arms and at the fork of his legs. Then he had the boy roll onto
his shoulders, but there was nothing in his cleavage that needed his
attentions. The sparse dusting on lower legs and arms, was practically
invisible to the eye and so fine as to be virtually
intangible. Nevertheless he passed the blades over them too.

With the loss of all body hair, scant though it had been, Ikaros was now as
naked as it was possible for a boy to be. To his surprise, he found that he
rather liked the notion. It made him feel terribly sexy. He clutched
himself down there and shivered with the frisson of his own naughtiness.

Still, teenager that he was, he did find something to complain about,
grumbling that the over-all effect was to make him look like he was
fourteen years old.

"Really Ikaros," Orontes rejoined. "Small as you are, with your fawn-like
build and elven features you already looked more like fourteen than a youth
going on seventeen. There is no sign of fuzzy down on your cheeks much less
a genuine beard and you had no body hair to speak of. Not surprising, I
suppose, for the runt of the litter, though otherwise your body is
well-formed.

Rolling the boy's testicles between his fingers and shaking his head, the
artist added:

"All of which makes me wonder if these things are working properly" he
asked giving the boy's left ball an extra squeeze, which was only the first
of many humiliations he could look forward to during the preparations.

It took a few days longer than expected, but they soon had perfected a body
paint that would do the job. It went on easily, clung tenaciously for a
week, then sloughed off naturally or washed off with distilled
spirits. Best of all, it let the skin breathe and sweat since only the
sticky solution in actual contact with a speck of gold dust remained stuck
to the skin after the body paint dried. The rest flaked off. Came the day
before the king's arrival and Ikaros showed up at the Orontes studio for
his transformation into an avatar of golden Apollo.

After a quick touch up with the iron blades, the artist's assistant, an
effeminate looking kid named Arion sporting grey eyes rimmed with kohl, had
Ikaros step into a shaded forecourt, securing his wrists into cuffs
dangling from the ceiling.

"I feel like a prisoner in the dungeon." Ikaros said, feet shifting
nervously.

"It's for your own good, sir. No way you could hold your arms up, out, and
apart long enough to apply even the base coat, much less to let it dry
between coats. Now stand with your feet a little more than shoulder width
apart so we can get at you properly," running his hands over Ikaros' smooth
groin, his hands lingering rather longer than strictly necessary.

On a wooden table along the wall were marshaled the tools and materials
they would use on him: brushes of various sizes, body paint, extra gold
dust, and short tubes for blowing the dust into those hard-to-get-at nooks
and crannies of the human body.

"This is just the first coat. Oh, and the brush might tickle a little" the
assistant explained, as he let out a mischievous giggle, the turned to
applying the gold body paint liberally to Ikaros' chest and back and arms
and legs.

As Ikaros was indeed quite ticklish, he couldn't help twisting in his
bondage as Arion applied to brush to his armpits and along the chevron of
his ribs and elsewhere. Setting the brush aside, he used a sponge and his
hands to rub the concoction into the boy's skin. Arion was delighted to
have this lovely body under his control, to be able to touch it everywhere,
to tickle it and make it pull and twist and turn as if he were a hapless
prisoner under the lash. No wonder his own loincloth tented out.

"I think your assistant is enjoying his work rather more than he should."

"True, Daedelos, but can you really blame the lad? By now you must be aware
of the effect your son has on any male who appreciates a beautiful
boy. Though I admit that Arion can be naughty, he is essentially a good kid
and means well. Though perhaps you shouldn't stay and see just how we gild
the boy's rump and genitals. I promised Arion that he could do the first
coat and the first step is to get your boy, er aroused. He needs to be
fully erect with his ball sac drawn up to his groin. That is so we don't
miss any crannies and crevices in that area. As I can attest, my assistant
is very good with his hands and his mouth. He'll have Ikaros rampant in no
time."

"All right, I'll leave my son in your hands trusting that you won't take
advantage of him in bondage. We have to save him for the King of Argos,
after all."

With a nod of reassurance to his son, the father walked out.

Flashing a mischievous smile to his master, Arion stripped off his
loincloth, dropped to his knees, and kissed the head of Ikaros' cock.

"You have the most fabulous of cocks, Ikaros, one that might grace a
demigod. With most boys, their members are all gnarly with veins standing
out of the fleshy column or the skin is wrinkly and shriveled up. Yours is
a column of smooth pale flesh, the bulbous head encased in a tight
foreskin, with only the slit peeking out."

"The fact is that I have had a terrific crush on you for several years, but
have been unable to get close to you -- much less to touch you. As a royal
slave I cannot take part in the field exercises and weapons training, or
work out in the gymnasium with you and the sons of nobles and freeborn. If
you submit willingly to my ministrations today, that would make me the
happiest boy in Knossos!"

Then returning to his labors, Arion worked his tongue around the rim of the
glans and poked the tip of his tongue into the slit. Arions hands touched
the boy all over his as yet ungilded belly and rump, sliding the blade of
his hand into Ikaros' cleavage, toying with the rosebud hidden between his
cheeks, rolling and gently squeezing his ball sac. In no time, the boy's
virile member filled with blood and lifted up flat against his belly, the
head empurpled and the shaft throbbing rhythmically with the beat of his
heart. Arion lapped up the droplets of pre-cum which oozed their way out of
his slit.

"And now I have brought you to a full state of arousal. If only I could
suck you off all the way and taste your sweet gism.

"It is difficult to resist such a heartfelt expression of admiration,
Arion, but remember, I have to save myself for our guest. We'll see what
happens after he leaves."

Delirious at Ikaros's promise, Arion hugged his idol's legs and looked up
at him adoringly, then went to work with his paints. Regretting that he
could not bring Ikaros to climax, Arion quickly gilded the rampant cock, a
silly grin on his face as his hands stroked and pumped Ikaros'
erection. Squeezing the slit open with his finger, he wielded a tiny brush
to coat the inside. The corrugations of the boy's scrotum got equally
careful attention. He carefully gilded every centimeter of skin from the
hairline to the soles of his feet, with careful attention to the shell of
his ears, eyelids, etc. Nor did he overlook the inside of the inside of the
foreskin. It was essential that when Ikaros erected for the king he display
a helmet and a sheath as golden as the rest of his youthful male anatomy.

As for Ikaros's butt, Arion undid the wrist cuffs and had Ikaros brace
himself on the table, bent over like he was submitting to a fuck. But Arion
knew better than to exceed his brief. Attentive to duty, he applied the
body paint with both brush and blow tube aimed right at his model's ass
crack and anus, telling him to pooch out and dilate his ring just a bit
please to flatten it so the gold dust would get into the tiniest
interstices of the convolutions of his little brown pucker. Finally Arion
stuck two fingers in and swirled the paint around -- just to be thorough of
course.

That was the end of the fun and games. Within the hour, the body paint
dried completely. Gilded all over, Ikaros had been transformed into the
legendary golden boy of concupiscence, desired by all.

			Chapter 4. The King of Argos

Kodros, the king of Argos, cut an impressive figure as he entered the
throne room at Knossos. Still a few years short of forty, tall and
muscular, he had a touch of gray at the temples and in his close trimmed
beard. With his height and bearing and magnificent bronze ceremonial armor
he quite put his host in the shade.

Despite his rich robes of state, Minos came off poorly by comparison. He
was ever a thin man, lean and sinewy rather than muscular. Grizzled and
with skin turned leathery from years at sea as a younger man, before the
loss at sea of his older brother made him crown prince, Minos looked more
like some ship's captain than a monarch. It didn't help that when he
stepped down from his throne to greet his guest as an equal, he had to use
a stick to assist his walking, wincing as he put his weight on the leg he
had injured in a recent fall from his chariot.

Kodros appreciated the gesture and gave a short bow with his head to
acknowledge a fellow ruler. (Kings do not kneel to each other except as an
expression of fealty from a subordinate king to his suzerain.) After
greetings and speeches, the assembly adjourned for a formal luncheon. Fish
from the nearby sea for a first course, then roasted lamb and grilled goat
along with flatbread and a vegetable medley with fruits and cheeses for
dessert.

After the meal, Minos made a point of giving his royal guest a tour of his
sculpture garden. Formal plantings of shrubs and flowers formed a backdrop
for a dozen choice pieces. From one wall hung a relief of the nine muses
done in hammered silver. On another, the twelve Olympians were embodied in
bronze from a design intricately detailed in clay then cast with the
lost-wax process. Stand alone statues of nude youths out of legend, like
Leander, Narcissus, and Hyacinth were chiseled out of marble then painted
over in colors rather too bright to be lifelike, the pupils of their eyes
depicted by inlays of abalone and agate.

The centerpiece of the collection was a recumbent statue on a waist high
plinth seemingly cast in gold of a sleeping beauty, a youth of surpassing
loveliness, supine but with one leg bent at the knee and drawn to the
side. His eyes were closed but the slight smile on his face, swollen
nipples, and a shapely cock just starting to swell indicated a boy
engrossed in an erotic dream.

"A true masterpiece, my good friend, King Minos. Would this be a depiction
of golden Ganymede, the paramour of Zeus, or perhaps of the legendary
golden youth of concupiscence, whose charms none could resist. It must be
the latter, for I find myself unable to resist him myself. Ah, if only he
were a flesh and blood boy whom I could embrace!"

"Then, as your host, I am pleased to grant your wish, my dear friend
Kodros. Behold, this is not a youth formed of dead metal but of living
flesh. Embrace him as you will, for my ward Ikaros here will be attending
you day and night during your entire stay here in Knossos. If you please,
he will never be out of your sight and will remain, as he is now, golden
and naked and available."

Hearing his cue, Ikaros abandoned the pose he had been holding, got to his
feet, and bowed low to the foreign king. The man stared at him with delight
and undisguised lust. Head shaking in disbelief he ran his fingers lightly
over the boy's shoulders and arms and chest and belly, marveling at the
smoothness of his skin. His big hands cradled the boy's narrow hips, then
cupped the gilded genitals, weighing and fondling. Next he turned the boy's
face up toward him and kissed him full on the lips, letting his strong arms
slip around the slender body of the nude youth in a tight embrace. As they
broke the kiss, the boy smiled up at him boldly, green eyes locked to his,
a promise of the fun they would soon share in bed. The king smiled down at
the studly erection standing proudly against the boy's belly, utterly
gratified to see that even the head too, as it emerged from its sheath, was
as golden as the rest of the lad.

"The golden youth of concupiscence indeed! King Minos, I find it beyond my
poor powers of speech to express my gratitude for such unlooked for
hospitality. Such an auspicious start to my visit augurs well for the
outcome of our diplomatic talks."

Minos smiled, satisfied with the success of his coup. The besotted king of
Argos was sure now to sign an alliance. As indeed he soon did, though only
after shrewd bargaining over trading privileges. There was no need to
belabor the military basis of their alliance which was obvious to all:
mutual defense.

From that moment and for the remainder of his stay the king kept the youth
close at hand. In bed he found the boy to be energetic, versatile, and
well-trained in the art of pleasing men. And wondrous to behold, even his
gism was golden instead of silver, colored by special tubers recently added
to his diet.

Ikaros gave the king a tour of the palace and even brought him to their
workshop in the Labyrinth where Daedelos showed off their latest
gadgets. Kodros asked after the Minotaur but was told he never received
visitors. At Minos' suggestion, the boy guided the king around the
agricultural belt that surrounded Knossos with the grazing lands beyond
them, letting the foreign king see for himself the property and wealth of
the kingdom.

Though the locals greeted the foreigner cordially they reserved their real
enthusiasm for his guide, the golden boy of concupiscence whom everyone
desires, as indeed they all did. With gilded skin and hair like spun gold
the boy might be an avatar of Apollo. And there he was in their very midst,
magnificently nude, a veritable demigod, displaying himself in all his
glory. Even granting that he was actually the mortal boy Ikaros, he was
still the most stunning example of youthful male pulchritude anyone had
ever seen.

The two of them, king and golden boy, seemed to get along quite well, at
least at first. Ikaros proved to be an engaging conversationalist, an
incessant chatterbox really, with an insatiable curiosity about the wider
world. He plied the king with questions. With the boy, the king relaxed and
opened up, happy to talk freely to a bed companion who was not
empty-headed.

Unfortunately Kodros' initially cordial relationship with Minos soured when
Kodros spoke carelessly, asking after the Minotaur.

"So, Minos, when are you going to show me this fabulous man-beast of yours,
the fearsome Minotaur. Is it true he has horns? They say you keep him
penned up in a Labyrinth so complex there is no escape, unless you know the
secret of it. Shall we look in on him in his cage, or perhaps you can have
him dragged before us in chains."

Minos was furious, but kept a civil tongue in his head.

"I will thank you not to refer to the so-called Minotaur as a beast. His
name is Oltos and he is no wild animal. He is a man, my half-brother in
fact, which makes him a royal prince. Oltos is intelligent and brave and
loyal. He once saved my life from an enraged boar during a hunt. Blame the
gods for his deformed appearance, not him. What offense could he have
committed in the womb that the gods cursed him to be born so? And yes, he
keeps to the Labyrinth, but not confined to some filthy pen. He dwells in
an airy pavilion and is supplied with every comfort. True he has a quick
temper, which is why he dwells apart from the fools who would mock him to
their peril. But he has a kindly side too. He helped raised sweet Ikaros
from a toddler, which is why the boy has always seen my brother as a
person, not as a monster. Would you believe it, they became lovers."

"Speak not disparagingly of my brother then, Kodros of Argos. I simply
won't stand for it."

Taken aback, Kodros regretted his faux pas but did not consider it really
his fault. He had only said out loud what the world thought of the
situation on Crete. If it was so sensitive an issue to him, then Minos
should have said something early on, or at least let his attitude be known
through an intermediary. Kodros made his apologies for the sake of the
alliance, but a keen resentment was born.  A king like Kodros does not take
kindly to being put down in public. And Kodros was appalled at the thought
that his bed mate, pretty little Ikaros, had let himself be embraced,
befouled, and defiled by a deformed monster. Kodros was disgusted at the
thought that the Minotaur had preceded him up Ikaros' quim. It made him
feel dirty. Which was why he didn't take the boy to his bed that night.

Later Minos conferred with the Minotaur who had been listening from behind
a screen.

"I have a bad feeling about your royal guest, brother, and not just from
his unkindness to me just now. Did you see the way he looked daggers at
Ikaros, his aristocratic face etched with disgust? Perhaps the boy should
no longer attend the king or at least steer clear of his bed."

"I am afraid such an action would cost us our alliance. No Oltos, I cannot
do that without a better reason than your fears and suspicions, though I
myself share them. But I can ask you to keep any eye on the boy. They are
going boar hunting tomorrow. I charge you to follow at a distance. I will
instruct sergeant Laodamas to bring word to you if anything intolerably
untoward occurs."

So it was agreed.

The next day the hunting party formed up. It consisted of Kodros and six of
his guardsmen accoutered in practical clothes in sober colors and leather
armor. With them went two giant Molossian hounds, vicious sheep dogs, the
ancestors of modern mastiffs and a dog handler. Minos's palace guard
provided an escort of six including its captain and sergeant Laodamas. Due
to his injury, Minos was unable to join them. Several servants trudged
along on foot.

Ikaros felt out of place in the group: a slight nude boy surrounded by a
band of warriors, all of them big men, armored and armed for boar. He had
no experience of blood sports. He was an artisan, not a hunter. Someone had
handed him a boar spear with a cross brace fixed a handspan behind the
spear point. He held it out at arms length, looking at it dubiously,
wondering how they expected a boy of 7 and 1/2 stone to fend off a boar
weighing maybe thirty stone (over 400 lbs or close to 200 kg.). Just brace
yourself and hold on to the shaft. Don't let go and keep the point between
yourself and the beast. The cross brace would prevent the enraged animal
from getting at him. Right.

The expedition took off in four-man chariots that carried them beyond the
surrounding belt of vegetable gardens and grain fields that fed the
town. After that, they proceeded on foot. The terrain was rough -- all
hills and woods and meadows and the ground often rocky, which made for hard
going. The men had stout sandals to protect their feet while Ikaros went
bare foot, thick calluses his only protection. The leathers the men wore
fended off thorns and sharp edged grasses. Ikaros had to ignore the
punctures and cuts they inflicted on chest and legs. When the party reached
a belt of nettles about chest high, sergeant Laodamas jokingly offered to
carry the boy across on his shoulders,

"How about clambering onto my shoulders, golden one. Think of it as a
change of pace: you mounting me for once."

Ignoring the chuckles that sally brought from the soldiers, Ikaros ran
straight at the line of nettles and planted the foot of his boar spear in
the ground. Gripping the cross bar on either side, he twisted his body
acrobatically, using his momentum to vault right over the obstacle. Landing
lightly on his feet, a big smile on his pretty face, he bowed at the hurrah
his feat drew from the soldiers. It seemed this lad was something more than
just a naked bum boy with a gilded skin.

Not long afterwards, the dogs caught the scent of a good sized boar and
took after it. The beast sought refuge in a thicket it would be foolhardy
to penetrate on foot. In that tangle, it could get close enough for its
tusks to slash at legs and bellies. At Kodros direction, one of the
soldiers set the thicket on fire. The party then spread out across the
boar's likely avenue of escape, spears held low, braced to receive the
beast's charge. All except Ikaros, who had privately resolved to climb a
tree if the beast came at him. He had nothing against the boar and wasn't
particularly fond of pork.

As luck would have it, the boar went for Kodros himself who had advanced a
little in front of the rest of the party. Say what you will about him, the
man had nerve, cooly planting the tip of his spear in the beast's shoulder
and hanging on, feet scrabbling for purchase as the boar's fury drove him
backwards across the clearing. At the king's nod, Laodamas thrust his spear
into the beast's flank, the flat of its blade aligned with the ribs to
better penetrate its vitals. The animal gave a last squeal then collapsed
into death. Kodros graciously awarded the ears to Laodamas as trophies,
keeping the more prestigious tusks for himself.

It was only mid-morning so they dispatched the servants to carry the gutted
carcass to the nearest road or track to be carted to the palace kitchens,
then resumed the hunt

The second boar was even more formidable than the first, a grizzled giant,
wily to the ways of hunters and dogs. For their part, the normally fearsome
dogs were intimidated by the giant's size and aggressiveness. More than
once it turned to charge them from ambush. The beast made things miserable
for the human hunters as well, driving through the worst thickets of
brambles and thorns, forcing them to follow, wearying them from the sheer
effort of pushing their way through. Ikaros marched at the tail end of the
column, letting the bigger males break trail for him. That protected his
tender skin from the worst of it, but by no means did he come through
unscathed.

At long last they trapped the beast in a narrow canyon, with only one way
out -- a stretch of open parkland, trees and grass but no understory of
brush. To block his escape across its wide entrance the hunters had to
spread themselves apart. Whomever the boar charged would have to deal with
it alone for a moment till those on either side could run up to help. For
his part, Ikaros was tired beyond telling, footsore, and bleeding from a
dozen minor cuts. Filled with irresolution, Ikaros had never felt more out
of place. It didn't make any sense for him to take on the porcine
monster. He was no hunter, just a naked bum boy with a pointed stick in his
hands.

The wily beast chose that moment to charge their line, choosing the easiest
spot to break through the cordon, the one blocked by the smallest of the
hunters, a strange looking two-legs with a shiny golden skin. As the beast
charged directly at him, Ikaros let out a yelp and let go of his
spear. Spinning around, the frightened boy ran right up the bole of aged
olive tree somehow finding footholds on its twisted and gnarled trunk. He
climb all the way up to a secure perch, well out of reach of the angry
beast. The boar ran past, grunting in triumph as it left the humans behind,
all of them too weary to continue the pursuit.

			Chapter 5. Naked Prey

Furious at the escape of their quarry King Kodros stalked over to Ikaros
who was still perched up in his arboreal refuge, feeling nervous and more
than a little ashamed of himself. The king shook his fist and vented his
anger on the hapless youth.

"Idiot! Coward! Craven! You ruined everything. We will never catch that
animal now. What did you think you were doing? You were supposed to stand
your ground, not climb a tree like a frightened squirrel. Now get down from
there while I consider your punishment."

Ikaros did not like the sound of that. All right, he had chickened out and
let the beast escape. But if anyone were to punish him, surely it would be
his own king, not the king of Argos. Abruptly the king looked over at
Ikaros, a predatory smile on his face.

"This is my judgment. Since you let our prey escape, it is only fair that
you take its place. To make it a sporting proposition, I will give you a
head start before I set my hounds on you. "

"What! No way that is going to happen. All right, I was wrong just now, but
I am not some animal you can set your dogs on. I am a human being, a free
boy, not a slave.

Captain Myles added his protest: "Hunting dogs mounting a helpless boy! I
cannot let you do this to Ikaros. Whatever the lad's fault in the hunt, he
is the ward of the king."

"Your king"

"And His kingdom and I, the captain of His guard."

"So? How do you propose to stop me. Would you take up arms against the
sworn ally of your king? Make war upon me and my men? I don't think so."

Myles was in a quandary, shifting irresolutely from one foot to
another. What should he do? His men would back him, whatever his course of
action, both for his sake and to protect the pretty youth they had all
befriended. But it was only too true that taking up arms against the king
of Argos could cost the captain his head and his men theirs, from the
foreign king or their own.  Myles would have to let things proceed as the
foreign king desired, at least for the moment. Best to pretend to acquiesce
while giving his sergeant a surreptitious signal to hang back and slip away
to carry word to the Minotaur. They were confident he was following
reasonably close behind. Seeing that captain raised no further objections,
the king spoke to Ikaros.

"In Argos, I often hunt boys for sport. Oh it's rough on the boys, I'll
admit, but no one gets killed or even hurt too bad: just scrapes,
scratches, bruises, and sometimes broken bones. The boys set off just as
you are now, barefoot, naked, and unarmed. It makes for the best sort of
hunting. The prey wears only his pelt, running around as naked as any wild
beast. Yet this naked prey is endowed with human intelligence. It is a fair
contest; I give them a half hour head start and let them run over familiar
ground. You would be surprised how often the boy manages to outfox the hunt
and reach safe ground to claim his reward. I really don't mind losing
occasionally. The prospect of losing makes it just that much more
interesting. These hunts would soon grow tedious if the quarry had no
chance to win free. That won't happen to you of course. Since this is a
punishment, your head start will be much less.

I will enjoy watching you try escape. I haven't seen that golden body of
yours in a flat run, when you are putting everything into it, legs
scissoring, arms pumping, chest heaving. You have the physique of a runner
so you should give my hounds good sport. Don't think you can just get up a
tree like with the boar. That would just throw away your head start. Once
they reached you, my soldiers will sling stones at you to drive you back to
the ground."

"Now these hounds have been trained to hunt boys without inflicting
permanent damage. They don't go for the throat of their human quarry nor do
they try for the hamstrings. Instead, they knock the boys down then mount
them, breeding them and knotting them, squirting their canine juices up the
boy's quim. It is painful and humiliating, of course, but it gives the boy
the incentive to try harder the next time. If the dogs use their teeth at
all, it is to nip at the heels of their naked prey to bring the boy to a
halt. And once they mount him, they might give him a love bite on the
shoulder to fix him in place."

"By Heracles' pizzle, I can hardly wait for the dogs to catch you, to knock
you onto all fours, and rear up on your back, their dewclaws scratching
marks on ribs and shoulders. What a sight it will be: the golden boy of
concupiscence transformed into a boy bitch, trembling in fear and shame as
he is bred by a pair of brindled hounds. Actually that should familiar
territory to you, little Ikaros: sexual congress with animals, the way you
defile that priceless body of yours with the man-beast of the
Labyrinth. After your ordeal today, you can return to the Minotaur's
embrace and good riddance to you."

One of Kodros soldiers twisted Ikaros' arm behind him forcing him to bend
over. The dog trainer came forward, a waxed leathr cylinder in his hand. He
undid the strap holding the cap closed and withdrew a probe made of a short
stick with a tiny sponge at the end.

"Ass juices from bitches in heat," he explained as he coated Ikaros
cleavage and hole inside and out. "Now you are one proper boy bitch," he
added, slapping the boy's ass for emphasis.

Kodros ignored Myles's renewed pleas that he spare the boy this ordeal,
ordering the proceedings to continue.

The soldier let Ikaros straighten up then lead him off a ways in front of
the rest of them, maybe two hundred paces. Not much of a head start. The
king pointed his spear at the boy and gave the order to unleash his
hounds. They took off baying. With one last look of despair at Minos'
soldiers, Ikaros took off too, running for all he was worth. He knew the
dogs would eventually run him into the ground. His only chance was to
scramble up a cliff or boulder and get out of their reach.

Alas, as fast as the boy was on two legs, the dogs were even faster on
four. They quickly caught up with him growling and baring their teeth,
herding him back the way he had come. One of the Molossians circled the
frightened boy, sniffing his ass and genitals and nipping at his
calves. Poor Ikaros felt terribly small and vulnerable, confronted by
beasts that easily outweighed him. On their hind legs they would overtop
him considerably.

Suddenly one dog jumped at his back and knocked him down to the ground, his
hands and knees folded under him. He stayed there in a huddle trying to
shield himself, head to the ground. One dog began licking his behind,
slurping its tongue over his ass and into his crack then down to his balls
and shriveled cock. Please don't let it bite me, he thought, not there. The
lad whimpered softly, trembling, absolutely terrified. Here he was a small
naked boy on all fours circled by two huge canines.

The dog licking him over suddenly climbed up onto his back, its forepaws
scrabbling for purchase and its dewclaws scratching his back. Its powerful
muzzle dripped drool onto the back of his neck. The fetid smell almost made
the boy puke. Ikaros rose to hands and knees and tried crawling out from
under but a low growl warned him to freeze in place.

Now dogs have little use for foreplay aside from a little sniffing. With
the boy in the perfect position to be fucked doggy style, the hound poked
clumsily at his ass with its hairy cock, trying to find the hole. It
finally pressed the head of his cock on the sphincter only to find it
squeezed shut against him, barring entry. The dog growled in frustration
and lunged forward at the obstacle, its cock a veritable battering ram at
the gate. Ikaros knew he was lost as the huge head forced its way into him.

Ikaros didn't know which was worse, the pain itself or the terrible sense
of degradation.

"This cannot be happening", he told himself in his agony. "I'm being raped
by a hound."

But it was happening. With mounting excitement, the dog drove even more of
its penis into the boy's hole, forcing it in till the erectile swelling of
the canid penis known as its knot pressed against the boy's hole. It felt
like the dog was trying to push a navel orange through his ass ring. Ikaros
screamed and shook his head in denial, but the horny animal would not be
denied.

Suffering more pain in those moments than at any time in his young life,
the boy felt the knot force its way past his battered sphincters till it
slipped entirely inside him. That made it official. He was now a boy bitch
tied to his mate. As was the way with canines, the Molossian hound dribbled
his seed into him steadily in a seemingly never ending stream rather than
in a few spurts. Bad as the situation was, it got worse after the dog
turned around and faced back the other direction while still tied to the
boy. The dog simply lifted its right rear leg over the boy's backside,
swung around and planted that leg next to the boy's left leg.  The two
young male animals were now on all fours ass to ass but still tied by the
dog's knot. Ikaros knew that dogs may stay tied like that for a quarter
hour or more.

The dog handler patted his thigh as a signal for the dog to run over to
him. The big dog took off dragging the screaming boy behind. Ikaaros
scrabbled at the dirt, fingers digging furrows in the loose earth, feet
kicking ineffectually but he got no purchase on the bare ground. Dragged
before the king, the boy collapsed, sobbing and totally broken. What a mess
he must be, he realized, a naked youth all sweaty and dusty, sprawled in
the dirt, having been dragged across the field by a dog's knot stuck up his
ass, his own blood and doggy cum seeping out of his quim.

Finally done, the first dog pulled out of the boy who slumped to the ground
in relief. That proved short lived as the second dog mounted him. Ikaros'
knees and elbows were scraped against the ground as this hound took him
even more roughly than the first. His ass on fire, totally humiliated, the
boy sobbed uncontrollably, but his tears brought only laughter, as he found
himself taunted as a crybaby.

An angry roar announced the arrival of the Minotaur. His huge torso covered
in leather armor with a buckler strapped to his left arm for protection
against blades and projectiles alike. In his right hand he brandished a
huge doubleheaded axe of bronze, the labrys from which the Labyrinth took
its name. Playing the role of man-beast, he had deliberately left off his
helmet, the better to intimidate the visitors from Argos with his bestial
appearance. Indeed his horns made him seem a veritable demon from the
underworld. Though his outrage was real enough.

In three strides the Minotaur reached the dog that was raping Ikaros. His
axe rose and fell, the blade cleaving the neck of the hound, decapitating
it at one blow. The other hound came to the defense of its sibling,
growling and launching itself at the interloper. The Minotaur whirled and
struck again. The blade of his axe split the skull of the hound, spraying
blood and brain matter everywhere. A backswing with the axe took the head
off the dog handler which rolled over to Kodros' feet.

Still furious, the Minotaur stalked up to Kodros and shook the bloody axe
at his enemies.

"Know this, Kodros King of Argos. Your life would be forfeit this day save
only that the pledge of safe-conduct from my brother stays my hand from
delivering justice. Leave this land before the sun sets or you will answer
for your crimes nonetheless. This I swear!"

In support of the Minotaur, Captain Myles, sergeant Laodamas, and the
Minoan guards stationed themselves on the man-beast's flanks. Appalled at
the mistreatment of their friend Ikaros, the guards would gladly have
carved up Kodros servitors, awaiting only the signal from their prince to
attack.

Kodros knew he had overplayed his hand. He had not come to Crete to start a
war, especially not with only a handful of guards. He signaled his men to
stand down and let the Minoans disarm them, which they did with rather more
roughness than really required, angry as they still were about Ikaros.

Meanwhile, Oltos knelt down next to the boy he loved and cradled him in his
arms.

"Rest easy, Ikaros. You are safe now."

"Thanks to you Oltos. I saw what you did just now. You were
magnificent. Now, could you carry me over to the stream. I don't think my
legs will support me, but I need to wash off the stench of the dogs."

Oltos nodded and carried the boy in his arms, as gently as a mother would
her child, and laid him in the shallow waters of the stream. He helped the
boy scrub himself clean with sand scooped from the stream bed. It was a
tribute to Orontes cleverness that none of the gilding came off. Ikaros was
still the golden youth of concupiscence.

Helping the boy to his feet, Oltos asked. "Are you ready, Ikaros?"

"Yes my love. I am ready, because I know that whatever the future has in
store for us, we will face it together, you and I, eromenos and erastos,
boy and mentor, lovers and each other's best friends."

Nodding the big man added,

"But not your only friend, Ikaros. Exclusivity simply would not be healthy
for a growing boy like you. Now, what of your father?"

"My father has always wanted what is best for me. He must realize, without
quite knowing it yet, that that means you."

With tears of joy welling up in their eyes, the happy pair marched off arm
in arm, back to Knossos and toward the bright future which beckoned.

				Epilogue

The future of the young lovers turned out be far less bright than they had
hoped for. The alliance broken, Kodros went back to Argos, licking his
wounds and biding his time. His chance came when a tsunami, triggered by a
massive earthquake, swept the north coast of Crete, destroying both its
navy and merchant marine. On land there was much damage and heavy loss of
life from collapsed buildings. Argos allied itself with other barbarian
kingdoms and swept down on Crete, killing and looting, thoughtlessly
destroying the aqueduct that fed Knossos. They even set fire to the
palace. Other raiders seized territory, setting themselves up a local
kinglets.

Minos and Oltos retreated with a small army of guards and stranded sailors
to the fortress of Phaistos on the southwest coast where they made a
gallant last stand, neither asking for nor giving quarter, intent solely on
killing as many of the invaders as possible. It didn't stop the invasion,
but their final sacrifice greatly reduced the number of such locusts
swarming the stricken countryside. Their final service to the kingdom saved
many innocent lives.

Daedelos and Ikaros escaped to Lybia in a small boat equipped with an
experimental fore-and-aft rig with a jib that made it much faster and more
maneuverable than anything else afloat. Their sloop was centuries ahead of
its time. It could tack and sail close-hauled to the wind. By contrast, the
galleys of the invaders relied on rowers who tired quickly or a single
square sail hung from a horizontal spar. It could sail only before the
wind, not into it like the boat the father and son were on.

Part of the standard myth is true. Ikaros did fall into the sea -- from the
top of the mast he had climbed to untangle a block and tackle, but he had
only to grab the safety line which the boat was trailing to haul himself to
safety. In the gathering gloom witnesses to their escape must have seen the
fall but not the rescue.

Father and son reached Libya safely and prospered with their skills and
inventiveness. From Libya the pair traveled to the kingdoms of the east: to
Egypt and Phoenicia and Mesopotamia, to what would one day become Persia,
and to the civilization that had arisen along the Indus River. But that is
another story.

Tall tales to the contrary notwithstanding, Daedelos and Ikaros did not try
to fly away on man-made wings. That is a myth based on blurry memories of
their sailing rig, unique for that day and age. No set of wings, no matter
how cleverly designed, could permit man powered flight. Human beings have
heavy skeletons, and do not have flight muscles or places to attach
them. As depicted in religious art angels would need breastbones projecting
five feet or more and much longer wings. Not to mention hollow bones.

The only hope for man-powered flight is the old science fiction dream of
vast underground caverns carved out of the moon by atomic explosions.
There, under one-sixth gravity, men could indeed flap their wings and fly.

Even a primitive kind of hang glider would have done nothing more than
carry the refugees out to sea only to drop them into the drink when the
thermals died.

				Author's Note

This is the eighteenth story in my 'Naked Prey' series for the Historical
section of the Nifty Archive, each with different characters. The premise
is simple: one or more cute twinks on the run from danger bare-ass naked.

The Naked Prey Series was inspired by the old movie "Naked Prey" (1966) set
in Africa starring Cornel Wilde and the movie "Run of the Arrow" starring
Rod Steiger set among the Indians of North America. Both movies were
inspired by the real life exploits of the American mountain man John
Colter.

The other stories in the series so far are:

'Naked Prey' set in 19th century Africa,
'The Shawnee', set in colonial America,
'Terra Australis', set during the great age of exploration in the South Seas,
'Dangerous Game' set largely in the Caribbean in the mid-seventeenth century,
'White Comanche' set in the American Southwest in the 1830s,
'Fearful Symmetry' about two castaways on the island of Sumatra in the early 18th century,
'Periplus' a tale of a voyage around the Indian Ocean in the late eighteenth century,
'Source of the Nile' set in Roman Egypt and Africa,
'Treasure of Carthage' set in the Mediterranean during the mid XIIth century,
'Monsters' set in the Pacific Ocean in the early XIXth century,
'Hispania' set during the fall of Visigothic Spain to the Moors in the early VIIIth century,
'Cast Away' set in the Pacific Ocean during the early XIXth century,
'Lost Boy' set in the American Southwest in the late XIXth century,
'Christmas Island' set in the Indian Ocean in the early XIXth century,
'Telemakhos' set in Bronze Age Greece,
'The Franconian Waif' set in South America during the XVIth century, and
'Young Guns' set in the American West during the late XIXth century.

Readers who like this story should try my other series of historical
novelettes: the 'Daphne Boy' tales which depict an eternally youthful
protagonist and his adventures in exotic climes and times down the
centuries. My other offerings include a revived series of 'Jungle Boy'
stories about young gay actors in Hollywood, posted in the
Gay/Authoritarian section. For links to these and my other stories, look on
the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive for George Gauthier.

In this story I have taken greater liberties with history than I usually
do. In my defense, I plead only that since it is all mythology anyway, we
can only guess at the historical truth behind the legends, if any. To
forestall any questions, no, I do not intend to write a sequel about the
adventures of father and son in the East.

I apologize to my regular readers for the long wait between stories. My
last story, a stand alone, was published back in January. The previous
entry in the 'Naked Prey' series was a year and a half ago. Hopefully I am
getting my inspiration back. Stay tuned.

Comments and feedback are welcome at georgegauthierdc@gmail.com.