Orinthia Oire

Korinthia Koire

1. The Bound Witch

I died.

It was the only explanation I could fathom back then as to what I became. We had all heard the stories, if one died a violent death or perished with the burden of some unspeakable sin thent he gods would see fit to curse us and have us rise anew as something inhuman until a hero puts us out of our misery. Of course, there would be no salvation in the form of a hero for the likes of me.

I would say it began as I approached our local prophet, back when I was still something of a human. Long ago, at a crossroads just outside our village, someone had seen fit to erect a hekataion, the triple maidens facing out to each road. As a youth I would frequently see offerings left there by travellers, hoping to appease the most mysterious of goddeses. But over time the hekataion grew weathered, less tended and the offerings more sparse. After one particularly bad storm, it slumped to one side, too stubborn to completely topple.

Then the one we called the Bound Witch came.

None knew where she came from, she seemingly appeared overnight. Word reached the village of a crazed woman, tied naked to the hekataion with the most complex and mind-warping knots. Her arms were tied behind her and her legs kept open so to as constantly display her sex to those passing by. She wore a strange, leather blindfold covered in runes and spurned all attempts to release her until people grew accustomed to the strange creature. She never seemed to eat or drink and could be found there in perfect health no matter the weather.

In time, people saw her as an avatar of Hekate herself and thought to leave offerings once more, the witch would laugh at their efforts and promise them nothing. That was, until it was learned she accepted offerings of semen. Men began to partake of her open loins and in turn she would whisper advice or visions to them that would change their lives, though not always for the better. Women would come and tip vials of seed into her open mouth, in trade for her wisdom.

I was such a woman. Clutching a hard earned vial I approached our depraved version of the Delphinic Oracle. The sun was setting and people were retiring to their homes after their day's labour, the perfect time not to be seen. I walked up the worn path and advanced to the crossroads. The witch had been there for a handful of years at this point, but this was the first time I approached her alone. She still looked every bit the same as when she was first discovered. Her grey hair fell around her ample breasts, and her loins glistened with the dampness of arousal.

Her face snapped to me, as though she could see me through her blindfold, "Ah, Pithos, you are here unattended at last."

I halted, thinking she had mistaken me, "My name is not Pithos."

She cackled, "Oh but it is, Apollo has Pythia, we have you, it is what you shall be and what you shall embrace. You are the reason I was placed here, after tonight I can finally return home." Her body shuddered with longing.

I swallowed dryly, unsure of myself, "I, I have what you like. I need your advice."

"You fear your husband is cheating on you and wish him back?"

Feeling that ache in y chest grow I mumbled, "Yes."

"Mortal problems for mortal people. A pithos like you should concern herself only with being full." She sneered, "Yet you are to be different from the others, that is why I am here, for the goddess has taken note of you."

I stepped back, this was not how I had imagined it going, though I was not sure exactly what I expected, "I don't understand." I held up the vial, "Do you want this?"

"I shall partake of nothing from you. It is you who must partake of me." She pushed her waist forwards slightly, indicating her dripping labia. "To become of us, drink from the chalice."

Wincing, I stepped back again, "You want me to-"

"Partake of us, and be as us. Or do you wish to return to mundanity? The choice is still yours. But know this, your husband is indeed weary of you and you shall be crushed like the ants you are soon enough. Unless you drink of us."

Looking around me to ensure no one was watching, I edged closer to the witch. I lowered myself between her thighs and inched myself closer to her vulva. I brushed my lips against her and started back. The witch hissed, "Be not coy child, drink!"

Taking a deep breath, I kissed her there, flicked out my tongue. The moment her fluids touched my taste buds my body convulsed with delight, there is no sufficient way to describe the hot flavour of her. All restraint left me and I pressed my lips to her greedily, my tongue lapping at her nectar as my own loins grew wet with excitement. A subtle heat crept along inside me, my breasts felt as though they were swelling. My mind and sight melted into a haze. As though from a distance, I heard the witch, "Pithos, you shall be more as you are less, let none have you see yourself as merely lowly, for you are and you are not."

Then I was struck with vision. I saw the Bound Witch's home, just as I knew that it was to eventually be my home, a place of infinite wondrous torment that I would dedicate my earthly existence towards for the thrill of the doom it offered. Screaming as I felt my sanity falter, all became black.

I awoke to see a beautiful face over me, a face I had helped create, "Mother?"

Groggily, I rose with my daughter's aid. I reached out and placed a hand against the hekataion for support. When my hand touched upon cold stone I realised the prophetic witch was missing, "The Bound Witch? Where did she go?" Not for years had she left that spot, it was jarring now to see the crossroads so vacant.

"She probably ran away." My daughter said, breathless and tear streaked, "Our village is being attacked. My husband and father sent me to find you. We are to hide in the woods."

Only then did I hear the distant clamour of battle. A strange ache remained in my loins, one that would only grow in time until it drove me mad and drove all my actions. I made towards the village. My daughter gripped my arm, "Where are you going? We must flee." I pulled myself from her grip and silently returned to the village, uncertainly, she followed after.

By the time we returned it was already over. The locals had been no match for the experienced slavers. Our homes burned as the raiders emptied them of what little valuables we had. People I had known all my life were led away in chains. Some of the raiders celebrated with the pilfered wine we had stored. Terror should have filled me, but in my vision I had seen worse things, wonderful things, that made this a mere trifle in comparison. Instead I felt only the aching insistence of my loins that suffused my body in warmth.

"Mother?" My daughter asked fretfully.

I smiled at her, feeling my maternal passion twist into something deeper, grander and more taboo. I stepped towards the drunken raiders and with a strength I did not know I tore open my dress to reveal my breasts, grown larger since partaking of the witch. I gave the invaders a lascivious smile, "Well, whose cock am I sucking first?"

2. Anthesteria

3 years later...

Those who knew me said I could usually be found sucking cock in the back alleys of Piraeus. This was not an entirely true statement, as I often did more gagging and choking than any sucking. Men had a tendency to ram their dicks down my throat the moment I put my lips to them, my touch ever bringing the beast out of even the most docile of clients. I welcomed such acts, for it was only during the most lurid and hardest of tricks that I would sometimes be gifted with visions. It was during the days of Choës, the pouring, the second day of a three day festival to Dionysus, and the peak of the celebration, when another fleeting vision struck me.

I was gagging on a client's phallus with some urgency. For the ritual was to begin soon and I had to make my way to the Agora swiftly if I wanted to break my way through the crowds to witness it. However, I was pornai first and foremost, and I could no more reject a customer than you could food or water. My pornoboskós had allowed me out of the brothel to work the streets that I may watch the event, and I intended to return with plenty of obols to prove that the streets was where I am best suited.

I grabbed his thighs and pushed my face forward, taking the full length of his phallus down my throat, my body shuddering in delight as it always did went put to such use, inhuman as it is. I choked and gagged as he gripped my hair and slid in and out of my face, but these uncomfortable convulsions was my body reacting to tease the semen out of him, I learned long ago I had no real need to breathe. I felt the warmth of my saliva dripping onto my tits as I slobbered over his member. My eyes rolled back as he grew rougher in his thrusting, my mind going blank from the ecstasy it brought.

And after many months I was struck with vision once more. It was a familiar one, a city aflame, me dancing and laughing as monsters gathered to drag me to their unearthly den in Hades, their talons fondled me and I welcomed their advances. But I danced not alone this time, someone else was there dancing with me. Who?

Slamming back into reality, I gave a choking whimper as he ejaculated down my throat. Swallowing, my body grew hot and only more aroused. I gasped as he removed himself, flipping a coin down to me before making his way back to the crowds to partake in the abundance of wine and music. I carefully put the obol into the pouch at my waist, the belt holding this and my sandals being the only things I could stand to wear.

I smiled as I made my way to the Agora, seeing the footsteps I had left earlier. My sandals were common amongst the pornai, leaving the words 'Follow Me' in the mud. As though my nakedness were not clear invitation enough. I hurried on, pressing through the crowds of merry makers, the throng becoming thicker as I got closer to the Agora.

I thought I would not be able to find a decent viewing position, that I had left it too late and would not be able to press closer. However, I boldly pushed my way amidst of group of drunken young men, who began to make lurid comments at me. I ignored them and, seeing I had just made it in time, watched keenly.

I thought, perhaps, that I might be a cursed creature of Dionysus, or his frenzied mother Thyone, if not Hekate, if not Aphrodite Pandemos. I had little understanding of what I was exactly back then, and would not learn much more until I met the child-killer later.

The Agora proper had been kept clear, a bed set up as an altar at the centre. Lying there naked save for the expensive cosmetics, was the basilinna, husband to the archon. Around her were the fourteen gererai, priestesses dedicated to the drunken god, chanting hymns and holding torches as incense perfumed the air. One gererai was blood-stained from the animal sacrifices made earlier. A sole man came forwards, dressed in fine robes, the basilinna opened her legs to him, enticing him to remove his robes. He descended upon her and the rutting began.

Everyone watched in silence, the musical voices of the gererai lending weight to the beauty of it. I watched jealousy, wishing I were the one everyone was watching, wishing they could admire my skill in the bedchamber publicly and praise me for it. Instead I was but a cheap pornai in the docks of Athens.

As the ritual went on the drunk men I had intruded upon began to fondle me, brushing my arms, squeezing my breasts, touching my thighs and deeper still. I kept my focus on the ritual, but my body instinctively leaned into them, inviting further exploration. I fought to concentrate as I grew wet with the knowledge that I would be gangbanged shortly, my vulva impatient for more. But with a great strength of will I delayed it, even as I felt fingers creep into my rectum, and continued to admire the spectacle with the others.

Applause, as the two climax during the crescendo of the hymn, completing the ancient rite. "This Korinthian Koire wants it bad." One of the men groping me jokes with his friends. Korinth was a city I had heard of a lot about of late, being famed not only for its prosperity but apparently for its loose women and large number of prostitutes also. There were also darker rumours surrounding that place, but nothing I took as serious back then. I allowed the group to take me to a more solitary area and have their way with me.

On the way back to the docks of Piraeus I passed a scuffle between sailors. One group had been jeering at those who had come from the res publica and had graffitied their vessel, many saw Rome as the source of many of the current financial woes the people of Archaea faced and supported Carthage in the war the republic faced. Such politics and intrigues meant little to me, but it was something my pornoboskós fretted and spoke of frequently, blaming it on his decreasing income.

I entered the brothel and went up stairs to his office, nodding to the guards there and winking as I allowed myself in. Skartosa was every bit the administrator and was busy looking over his parchments when I entered. He only looked up when I tossed the pouch on the desk, "Twenty three obols, the most I've earned in a day for months. I think this proves my point?"

Tutting, Skartosa opened the pouch and let the coins fall out, "It's the Anthesteria Pithos, here or out there you would have had a hard time not earning more than usual with all the wine being shared around."

Trying not to let my ire show, I leaned over his desk, letting my breasts swing in the vain hope of alluring him. Skartosa's lust was very much for his wealth however, and I was little more than a lucrative asset to him, "I belong out there, sucking dick in the urine soaked alleys under the open sky, not closeted in a room spreading my legs on a mouldering straw mattress."

"And as I said before," Skartosa sighed, "It would not make a difference. It is different today with the celebration, but once over you will find business slow again. "Merchants are growing fretful and are avoiding this area, word is Cathage is losing and, once defeated, the res publica will be casting its eye for a new opponent. They will no doubt look this way. Tension is growing, here you are sheltered, under the protection of my hired men."

"Where you can also keep an eye on me." I added bitterly.

"Enough." Skartosa waved dismissively, "My decision is final. Now, your daughter has a message for you. Sailors from a recently docked vessel have chipped in to hire you both tonight, so make it quick."

I considered the argument far from over, but knew better than to press further at that time. I headed back downstairs. On the way to Cyane I passed my quarters, the room I had spent most of the past three years within, ever since being sold to Skartosa by the raiders. Within was the mattress that had seen me perform many depravities. In each room above the mattress was a picture depicting that pornai's speciality. Mine had been the same as my daughter Cyane's, now it showed only a smear where I had wiped it, for I considered myself skilled and willing in all acts.

As I reached outside Cyane's room I heard the sound of striking flesh, grunts and whimpers. I drew aside the curtain and watched as a well built man leaned over the beauty, thrusting into her anus fast and hard. My daughter whimpered under the assault and took it expertly, I watched with pride as she clutched at the sheets moved her hips to better accept him.

As always my heart fluttered as I took Cyane in, her bright blue eyes stark against the kohl. The picture on the wall crudely marked her speciality, depicting two women together, mother and daughter. We were popular with the clients in being able to offer that fantasy as reality, together we had spent the past few years working our bodies, my feelings twisting only further and making our bond deeper than simple parental compassion. With a loud growl the man came. He finished up and glowered at me as he left, his coin left on the dresser next to the dish of rosewater. "Well," I said as I entered, picking up the dish and seating myself beside her, "He was enthusiastic, I'm envious, I could do with a pummelling like that." I cupped my hand in the water and began purifying my daughter's seeded hole, relishing the feel of her.

"He's from Sparta." Cyane panted, "Exiled for some reason, likes to take it out on my ass." She beamed at me and raised an eyebrow, "You realise you have semen all over your tits?"

Looking down I saw it was true and laughed, making no effort to clean myself, knowing it would mysteriously absorb in a short time, "I've been busy today." I slapped one of her cheeks playfully, "And from what I hear our asses are going to be busy again shortly."

Cyane winced and rose up, "Yes, but there something you must know.."

"Skartosa said as such." I wrapped an arm around her, "What is it?"

She bit her lip, "One of my clients, a wealthy man, proposed to me. I accepted."

I looked at her blankly for a time, "Oh."

"He paid Skartosa handsomely for my freedom. I leave for his villa at the end of chytroi." She leaned closer, pressing her breasts against me, as she often did when hoping to placate me, "Are you not happy for me?"

"I...suppose." I said, then felt a desperation grip me. I took her hand, "Run away with me Cyane."

She leaned back, "Mother..."

"We can whore ourselves to get by, travelling naked city to city. Would that not be wonderful? If you want a wedding we can be wed, I'm sure some priest will do it for the right favours. We are pornai, we belong together. We are more than mother and daughter."

"Stop it!" Cyane stood, hands clenched, "Mother, I'm sorry, but I can do this no longer. I'm not broken like you. Face it, that night the raiders came, you snapped and have been hiding behind perversity ever since. Well, I am not like you. I do not want to spend the rest of my life taking filthy men in me in this squalid dockside brothel. With or without your blessing I am leaving."

Perhaps she would have been right under normal circumstances. I was going to reveal my secret that discredited that however, the secret I kept being that I had neither eaten nor drank anything but semen that fateful night and have been unable to consume anything else since. I would have done anything to keep her with me, to have her become like me so we could delight in the path of whoredom together. Before I could speak, however, the curtain was drawn aside and a group of grinning sailors smelling of the sea entered.

Quickly, Cyane straddled me, pushing me back on the bed. She kissed my lips briefly in apology before putting on her coy smile as she looked back to the sailors, "Oh hello, mother and I were just getting ready for you."

With a creeping sadness I realised this could be the last time we worked together. Entwining my fingers with hers, I mirrored her smile and greeted the advancing men.

As the sun set at the end of the day of Chytroi, the offerings to Hermes and the dead coming to a close, my daughter was sent a litter to be collected. Some of the pornai gathered to wish her well. I met her in her room and kissed her passionately one last time, my tongue dancing with hers. She held me tightly and kissed back, as torn as I but unable to share in my passion for harlotry. "I would have asked him to bargain for you too." she whispered, "But you are happier here."

She was right of course. We all waved as she was taken away. Cyane had been popular with the other pornai, but not so I. Once she was gone they glanced at me and whispered. They rightly saw me as a cursed creature, and thought it was due to my incestuous feelings. I took no heed and retreated to my quarters to lose myself in my work.

As Skartosa warned, business grew slow once more. Heartbroken, I spent the next couple of weeks either seeing to the few clients who came or lying on my mattress, waiting for one to appear. I made no further attempts to bargain with Skartosa to work the streets, glad to hide away for a time.