© 2025 by Crowley
Before Theseus…
From Athens they came, seven young men and seven young women, taken across the waves to Knossos on Crete. They were tribute for the voracious appetites of the Minotaur, the bestial, half-man half-bull child of Pasiphae, the wife of King Minos, and a snow-white bull sacred to Poseidon.
This was the second year of the tribute, a human weregild for the killing of Androgeos, a son of Minos, by Athenian forces. Fourteen young people were being sent to their deaths, for Knossos, at that time, was the great power of the eastern Mediterranean, an empire which seemed to be favoured by the gods.
****
The fourteen were taken to the Labyrinth, south of Knossos. The Labyrinth, a covered maze, was a creation of Daedalus. Only the Minotaur knew his way around its twisting passages.
One of the fourteen sacrifices was a young Athenian woman by the name of Heraclita. She knew that she was being sent to her death. But she refused to be cowed by her circumstances. She was determined to find some way in which to survive.
The fourteen Athenians stood in front of the Labyrinth. There was a great, rounded stone covering the entrance to the Labyrinth. The Cretans feared the Minotaur, and what it might do should it ever manage to escape from the Labyrinth. It now had the taste for humans, and it would run riot in Knossos if ever freed.
Cretan soldiers stood guard at the entrance. They were armed with spears and bronze short swords. The symbol of the great white bull adorned their rounded shields.
“Disrobe.” one of them ordered, pointing his spear at the fourteen young people. “You won’t need clothes where you’re going.”
The young men and women took off their raiment. There was no point in trying to resist. But Heraclita knew that the soldiers were only trying to humiliate them before they went to their deaths.
Heraclita dropped her robes. Of the seven young women she was, without doubt, the most beautiful. Her body was perfect. Only the likes of the gods themselves were more beautiful than her. But Heraclita would never have committed the blasphemy of comparing herself to Artemis or Aphrodite.
The guards stared at Heraclita’s naked body, temporarily forgetting themselves. Then an officer barked out an order, and the sacrifice continued. Soldiers rolled the great stone out of the way, opening up the Labyrinth. At spear point the fourteen young, naked people were forced through the stone archway into the maze beyond. Then, quickly, the stone behind them was rolled back into place, locking the sacrifices inside the Labyrinth.
The Labyrinth was not entirely dark, as Heraclita had feared that it would be. Tiny slots in the stone of the roof, here and there, allowed a little light to filter through – and air, so that the son of Pasiphae could breathe. It allowed a little rain in, which was captured in occasional troughs, so that the Minotaur had water to drink. But the slots in the roof were far too thin for any escape. The Labyrinth had been well-designed.
The fourteen went forwards, for there was no point in staying at the entrance, to wait for the Minotaur to come to them. It was better to seek out fate.
The place truly was a maze, with many twists and turns and passages. Some of the men joked that they would find the Minotaur and overpower it and slay it, even though they bore no weapons. They went one way. The young women, some of them, went another.
On and on Heraclita went, hoping to find some secret exit from the Labyrinth. She had heard a rumour that a secret exit had been built into the place for, at the time of its construction, Daedalus had feared that the cruel King Minos might lock him, the creator of the Labyrinth, inside it, so that its secrets might never be learned. It was only a rumour. But it was all that Heraclita had in the way of hope.
She heard terrible things as she crept along the twilight passages of the Labyrinth. She heard a great roaring echoing down the stone passages, and the shrieks of the young men as the Minotaur attacked them. The sounds stopped, but were replaced by horrific crunching sounds. Heraclita could imagine the young men being physically torn apart by the monster.
Here and there, as she crept through the passages, Heraclita found the bones of the first tribute, sent from Athens a year before her. All of the bones had evidence of gnawing on them. All of the others who had come before had been eaten by the Minotaur. Was that to be her fate? Not if she could help it.
She heard a woman’s scream from ahead of her, followed by a gurgling sound, followed by silence. Heraclita stopped, and waited, expecting to see the man-bull come down the passage towards her. But it did not. It must have gone some other way.
Being very scared Heraclita crept forwards. She found the remains of one of the other young women. The girl was dead. Her left breast was a mess, and the Minotaur had gored her with its horns. At least she had died quickly.
Heraclita continued. She heard more screams, indicating that others had met a quick fate. Eventually she heard no more screams, and she realised that she must be the last of those fourteen Athenians to still be alive. The rest were dead.
She saw a couple of more slain young women, ripped apart by the beast. The Minotaur had just left them where they had fallen. She supposed that it would eat them at its leisure. it was not as though the monster had anything to fear. It was the lord of this demesne.
Then Heraclita went around a curve of the passage and saw it. The Minotaur was sitting on the ground, tearing off the soft flesh of a dead girl’s breast, blood dripping from out of its mouth. The monster saw Heraclita, and stood up.
It was taller than Heraclita had thought that it would be. It stood some six cubits – nine feet – tall. Its skin was shiny black. Its pale horns had gore dripping from them. There was a red glow in its eyes. It snorted, and steam came out of its wet nostrils.
Heraclita had thought that it would charge her, and that it would be an end of things, and her shade would travel down to meet Charon. But the Minotaur stood there, staring at her. The Minotaur was half bull, but also half human. It stared at the naked beauty of Heraclita, and something clicked in its mind. Its desires were no longer murderous. Its thick, eleven inch cock slowly began to harden.
Heraclita was no fool, and she wanted to live. She could see that the monster was attracted to her, and she did not believe in fates worse than death. There was only life and death.
Being careful not to spook the monster, she walked slowly towards it. By now its cock was fully erect, full of blood. The Minotaur snorted.
Heraclita bent down, and took the hot glans of the misshapen black cock into her mouth. Heraclita knew the ways of love. She flicked her tongue over the slit in the glans, as she sucked on the cock. Strange, inhuman sounds came out of the mouth of the Minotaur. It was clear that it enjoyed what Heraclita was doing. Heraclita kept up the fellatio for a few minutes before stopping.
“Lie down, and I will give you other pleasures.” she said. She had to repeat the request before the Minotaur lay down on its back. Then Heraclita mounted the large cock, slipping the cockhead between her labia and into her hot, tight cunt. Slowly she worked up and down on the Minotaur’s cock, more and more of the organ disappearing inside her. The monster panted in pleasure, more hot steam issuing out of its nostrils. This was better than eating the raw flesh of humans. This was the best thing that had ever happened to it.
It was not long before the Minotaur came deep inside Heraclita, its hot white spunk issuing out of its monstrous cock…
****
One year later Theseus came and slew the Minotaur, revenge for the sacrifices of the Athenians slain and eaten by the monster. But of Heraclita there was no sign. Neither she nor her bones were inside the Labyrinth.
The End
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