TITLE    : Baubo Ch. 04
STORYID  : baubo-ch-04
SUMMARY  : Baubo reminisces about her ancient homeland.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-10-11
CATEGORY : celebrity-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |baubo|buffy|willow|sunnydale|slayer|buttocks|cunt|baphomet|devil|amazon|


Baubo crept from her hiding place in the shadow of a palm tree. Although the sun had set and night had fallen, the streetlamps illuminated the lanes and boulevards enough that, were she not careful, she might be seen. It had been a long time--centuries--since she'd been in this world, but it was dimly familiar--almost. A lot had changed, however. The hovels in which the peasants lived, for example--they were magnificent, and, indeed, the rabble dressed--in some cases, at least--much better than even the lords and ladies of her day--or, perhaps, the persons she supposed to be rabble were the lords and ladies of this day, whatever day it was. The streetlamps were hung on tall poles. How could the torch lighters reach them? she wondered. Did they ascend ladders? If so, the effort hardly seemed worth it. Wouldn't it make far more sense to ensconce the torches on lower poles? And why were the flames enclosed in crystal globes?



She gazed up at the moon. A crescent, it was not high enough in the sky for the hour to be late, despite the darkness of the night, and this village was far larger than any Baubo had ever seen. Shouldn't there be chariots? Shouldn't lords and ladies be out, in all their finery? Surely, in a township of this magnitude, there must be plenty of dinner parties and a bevy of balls. Where were the horses and riders? Where were the handmaidens and the slaves? Where, indeed, were pedestrians of any class or kind? Except for Baubo, the streets seemed empty, deserted.



Although the lack of a throng made it easier to conceal herself, it was also disquieting. There were lights in the windows of the houses, but, otherwise, the village was as still and silent as if it had experienced a plague. Where, she wondered, was she, anyway? This sprawling village of well-maintained lawns, trimmed shrubs, and carefully tended flowers resembled none she'd ever seen in Athens--or any other Greek or Mediterranean town. Ahead, she saw a sign, craftily made of what appeared to be tin, but painted tin. Fortunately, the sign was situated beneath one of the high torches. Although she could not read the strange words it bore, she believed that they were probably related to the town: "Welcome to Sunnydale," it read. "Population 38,500. Enjoy Your Stay." Sunnydale? Baubo wracked her memory, but she was unable to recall any such settlement in or around Athens. Indeed, as far as she knew, there was no such place in all of Greece, which meant, perhaps, that she was not in Greece. But if she was not in her own country, where was she?



The women here, like Baubo, seemed to go naked rather than clothed. Both the wide-eyed blonde and her friend, the redheaded witch--Buffy and Willow, they called themselves--had been naked in Baphomet's demon dimension and, except for the white, wrap-around robe that the one called "Buffy" had been wearing when Baubo had arrived with the Kekk demon, it seemed that neither Buffy nor her friend normally wore clothes in their own world, either. The women's customary nudity was good, she thought, for Baubo also wore no clothes--at least, for the last several centuries, she hadn't done so. Before she'd become Baphomet's consort, she had worn clothes, though, she thought. Hadn't she? Long centuries ago, when she'd lived in Greece?



She'd been a wanton woman--that she could remember clearly enough! As Baubo skulked about the streets of Sunnydale, her mind recalled her dim, distant past.







The hills, like the fields, were green and lush. Always, the mountains and the meadows were verdant, and the branches of the trees were heavy with olives, just as the vines sagged with the grapes of future wines. Along the rough roads and the ubiquitous coasts, where the white-capped seas frothed upon the golden sands, the bright lavender blossoms of the Hottentot figs were everywhere to be seen, and the thick stands of green barley formed great islands and continents among the ocean of grasses and natural ground covers. From March through October, clouds of white butterflies could be seen flitting among the blossoms of the field. In the small villas, bracts of bougainvillea brightened stone walls, wooden fences, and high, round porches. Herds of goats, white against emerald grasslands, roamed the hillsides, and fishermen often spied brown-backed loggerhead turtles, festooned with barnacles, in the blue-green waters of the Mediterranean. Even today, Greece was a beautiful land; thousands of years ago, much less abused and polluted by those who sought to build a civilization upon her soils, she had been a spectacular country, so beautiful that it took one's breath away to look upon her.



It was in those days that gods, goddesses, and all manner of fabulous creatures lived within, or visited, the islands. Baubo had been one of them.



The deities and mortals had, in many cases, been as bizarre as the lesser creatures of the woods and fields. Artemis, or Athena, for example, possessed three tiers of breasts upon her bosom and, as a consequence, was able to give suck to as many as fifteen babes at once, not that, as far as Baubo knew, she ever had.



Hermaphroditus had been a splendid young man until the naiad Salmacis spied him while she was gathering flowers near her pool in the forests of Caria. The poor boy! Although, as the offspring of the goddess Aphrodite and the god Hermes, he was himself divine, he'd been reared by nymphs in a cave on Mount Ida, in distant Phrygia, not leaving their care until his fifteenth year. He'd known nothing of women, nor of nymphs, and Salmacis' attraction to him frightened the youth. At length, realizing that the boy was not interested in her, despite her own interest in him, she withdrew. Supposing her gone, the young man stripped off his clothes and slid into the cool, liquid embrace of the pond.



However, seeing his nakedness, Salmacis, who had hidden herself among the boles of the trees surrounding the pool, dove into the pond. Wrapping his body in her arms and legs, she pressed her kisses upon his brow, his cheeks, his lips, and his neck, all the while fondling and caressing him passionately. Terrified, the boy struggled against her, but she prayed to the gods that their bodies might be melted into one, that they might never part, and the deities, beholding her passion for the youth, granted her petition. Henceforth, they were one, both male and female--and neither. The youth, blessed--or cursed--with feminine breasts and buttocks and with the narrow waist of a boy and the genitals of a male, begged the same gods who had transformed him to change all others who bathed in the pond as well, and the deities heard him and granted his wish. To this day, it is said, any, whether male or female, who dip themselves in Salmacis' pool emerge as hermaphrodites, so-called in honor of the youth who was first thus transformed.



All these tales, Baubo knew well, although she hadn't thought of them for years. Now, having escaped the clutches of the brutal Baphomet, whom the big-eyed blonde had killed, Baubo, stranded in a strange and terrifying world, sought emotional refuge in memories of her own, dear, long-lost Greece. In recalling her past, she recollected the wondrous creatures she'd bedded, beginning with the Amazon warrior, Aegina.







The word "Amazon" meant "one breasted." The men had named them that because of their mistaken belief that these fierce female warriors had cut or burned off their right breasts in order to make themselves more proficient in drawing their bowstrings. Nothing could have been further from the truth. From personal experience, Baubo knew that Aegina, like her sisters, had two breasts and that having two breasts had never interfered with any of them; they fired arrows as well as any man--and better than most. Nevertheless, "Amazons" was such an unusual name that it caught on, and, eventually, the women adopted it as their own.



Aegina was a mighty warrior, but, despite her strength, stamina, and courage, she possessed many fine, feminine qualities. She was kind and compassionate (when she wasn't killing an enemy combatant), and she was quick to laugh. She was a true friend, loyal and steadfast in her affections, and devoted to her companions. Despite the centuries--indeed, the millennia--that had intervened between today and the few months during which Baubo and Aegina had been friends--and, indeed, lovers--Baubo recalled the Amazon's appearance as if they'd just parted company this morning. Blessed with thick, curly hair as black as the interior of a cave on a moonless midnight and eyes like burnished obsidian, Aegina had full, sensuous lips, high cheekbones, and a pert, narrow nose. She had broad shoulders, smallish breasts, a firm, somewhat concave belly, narrow, almost manly, hips, sinewy thighs and bulging calves, compact buttocks, a powerful, sculpted back, and strong, muscular arms. Her sex was small, too--a mere cleft within the hairless mound between her legs. Although she was undeniably beautiful of face, Aegina had a body that, despite her breasts and vagina, was more manly than womanly in its appearance--a fact that had somehow excited Baubo and had made her want Aegina as a lover more than she'd ever wanted anyone before, which, given her considerable experience in sexual matters, was a not an inconsiderable measure. Headless and armless, with a face in her belly and a cunt in her chin, Baubo had made a huge impression on Aegina as well.







They'd met early this morning when, traveling through a mountainside grove of olive trees, Baubo, hot and tired, with aching feet, had spied a pool at the edge of a meadow thick with wildflowers. Naked as was her custom, she'd left the edge of the wood, jogged through the tall grass, and slipped into the cool water. At only two and a half feet tall, Baubo had been unable to see beyond the grasses and had caught only a glimpse of the pool from the path she'd been following through the high grove. Thus, when she heard the lapping of waves in what had been a placid pool, she turned, startled, looking up in surprise--and fear--at a tall, strapping woman. Like Baubo, the mighty stranger was also naked. It was odd, Baubo thought, that she'd encountered the female warrior in the same manner as the nymph had met Hermaphroditus, for, just as he had been a beautiful, rather feminine youth, even before his transformation, the Amazon was masculine despite her femininity. Indeed, viewed from the back, except for the roundness of her bottom, she might have been mistaken for a long-haired man. Her wide shoulders, muscular back, powerful arms, and sinewy legs were every bit as strong as any man's. However, her face was beautiful, as were her small, but perfect, breasts.



"Who--or what--are you?" the mighty Amazon warrior asked, upon seeing the petite female.



"I am Baubo," she answered, "a goddess."



Aegina chuckled at her response. "A goddess?" she repeated, her tone of voice as incredulous as her merry expression.



Baubo arched an eyebrow.



Finding the sight of an eyebrow arching over the wide, mascara-framed eye in Baubo's truncated body amusing, Aegina smiled mischievously. "And what, pray tell, does a goddess such as yourself do, little one?"



Now, Baubo did smile, her lips forming a lascivious bow. "Let's go somewhere private," she answered, "and I'll show you."







Aegina lived in a villa made of stone. Before entering the house, the Amazon, having since donned her gauzy gown, showed her guest the grounds. In the front yard, there was but a small lawn in which she'd planted bright blossoms. In the back yard, hemmed in by a low stone wall, there were more flowers as well as shrubs and small shade trees. Flanked by a series of wrought-iron benches alternating with potted palms, stepping stones led from the villa's rear entrance to a wide circle filled with stones in the middle of which was a fountain that sprayed a stream of sparkling, sunlit water that splashed into a white marble bowl. The water spewed from the cunt of a naked, muscular woman. The figure, Baubo realized, had been sculpted in the likeness of Aegina. Its every feature, facial and physical, was the same as Baubo's Amazon hostess. Gorgeous, the statue seemed to radiate not only beauty but power and a curious blend of both femininity and masculinity. Baubo's eyes lingered on the smooth contours of the bulging muscles in the arms and legs; on the firm, small breasts that swelled the otherwise masculine chest; and on the cleft between the powerful thighs from which the water cascaded into the bowl in which the figure stood. Nodding toward the likeness of her hostess, Baubo said, "It's you."



Aegina smiled, nodding. "A gift," she explained, "from a previous lover, the sculptress Chrysanthe."



Baubo's eyes widened. "The same who carved the statues of the goddesses in the agora in Athens?"



Aegina nodded.



Baubo grinned, shaking her head. "Impressive."



"Come," the Amazon invited, "let me show you my house."



Aegina led the way back down the walk, between the benches and the potted palms, to the rear entrance. Unlatching the heavy door, she stepped aside, bidding her guest to enter, and Baubo, who'd enjoyed the sashaying sway of her hostess' firm, tight buttocks, stepped past her, over the threshold, and into a foyer in which the ceiling, walls, and floors were of the same material--fine, polished white marble. Along the walls, ensconced torches flickered, casting their wavering light upon tables set with bronze and copper figurines, a silver pitcher and a matching bowl, and a shadowbox full of miniature gold idols. Baubo peered up at the tiny statues of the deities, hoping to see one of herself, but she was not represented among the host.



Joining her guest, Aegina closed the door behind her. "Let us take the tour," the Amazon suggested.



Following her hostess' lead, Baubo took her eyes off Aegina's compact buttocks as they entered one chamber and then the next. The house was beautifully furnished with low divans upholstered in brocaded silk; elegant chairs with fine, curving legs and backs shaped like the shells of the sea; tables of gleaming cypress, acacia, and ash; and fireplaces of stone cut from local quarries. There was an indoor pool, as well, at the head of which stood a marble figure of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, shown naked except for the quiver of arrows she wore on her back and the bow she held in her right fist. Her left arm was raised and bent, its hand clutching an arrow that she was forever in the process of drawing from the quiver. From the nipples of her firm, high, round breasts, water flowed, instead of milk, coursing over her gleaming belly, her smooth groin, and her sinuous thighs and calves to run into the pool at her feet. 



Admiring the beautiful work of art, Baubo asked, "Chrysanthe again?"



Aegina smiled. "Another."



Baubo, surprised, turned from the statue to the Amazon. Her eyes widened. Aegina had disrobed; she stood naked, looking even lovelier in the flesh than the soft, shadowy outline of her form beneath the gauzy robe had suggested. Baubo gulped, staring. "It seems you've known several women skilled in the art of sculpture."



Aegina opened her arms to her guest. "I have," she agreed, "but, until now, I've never entertained a goddess."



Baubo grinned, crossing the tiled floorin which a mosaic showed another image of Artemis, again naked. She reclined upon a hillside, seated upon her cast-off vestment--blue and white robes of silk--with her feet at the edge of a pool, her female attendant, also naked, seated beside her. The goddess' foot was pressed into the side of the handmaiden's knee, and the latter, smiling, gazed upon this intimate contact. As Artemis' dogs looked on, beside their mistress' discarded quiver of arrows, it seemed, to Baubo at least, as if the maid's eyes would, any moment, sweep up the goddess' calf and thigh, to the true center of her divinity.



Observing her guest's interest in the mosaic, Aegina said, "It's called Artemis At Her Bath."



Baubo smiled. "It seems she's intent upon more than just a bath."



"So am I, dear Baubo," Aegina confessed. She stood inside the lintel set between the two columns that led into her bedroom. The pillars were of the caryatid type--columns shaped like women--and similar to those in the Porch of the Caryatids that formed part of the Erechtheum on the Athenian Acropolis, except that, in this case, the carved figures were naked rather than robed.



Baubo marveled at the stately nudes for a moment before, leaving the mosaic, she joined her hostess in the lintel between the caryatids. Together, they crossed the threshold, stepping into Aegina's bedchamber. Like the rest of her house, this room was furnished in costly elegance.



A purple tapestry, edged in gold, showed a fierce battle between Amazons and men. The women warriors were winning, as dozens of dead or dying men littered the battlefield while there was but a single downed Amazon. Horses reared and stamped as their fierce, female riders swung battleaxes, launched arrows, and hacked with swords, the daughters of Ares and Otrera steadily adding more to the number of their vanquished enemy. The bed stood below the tapestry.



Built after the fashion of the Greeks, but with higher legs, the top of the open frame was criss-crossed with sturdy, braided cords upon which a mattress stuffed with goose-down was laid. Sheets and blankets were folded at the foot of the bed, and a great pillow stuffed with the fine feathers of the same type of bird that had supplied the mattress' stuffing were covered in satin sheets.



On either side of the bed, a table stood, bearing a bronze oil lamp. Before the stone fireplace opposite the bed, a bronze tripod as tall as Baubo stood, holding a scalloped cauldron of the same gleaming metal. In the wall on either side of the magnificent fireplace was a bas relief, each a mirror image of the other, showing fauns pressing grapes--except, like the other images and figures in Aegina's house, these were female, not male. They had the cloven hooves, furry legs, and horns on their heads that were characteristic of male satyrs, but their bodies were soft with smooth, flowing curves; their hips were full; and they had firm, round maidens' bosoms. There were four figures. On the left, a dancing faun played a panpipe. In the center, two fauns, holding hands, trampled grapes. At the right, a faun bore a basket of additional grapes.



"Lovely," Baubo commented. She gazed to her left, beholding a pair of hand-carved chairs flanked by small tables with round tops bearing vases of bronze abloom with fright bouquets of cut flowers. To the left of these chairs, a marble pedestal, again in the shape of a naked caryatid, held a familiar image. Baubo frowned, then grinned. The statue was one of her! "I thought you'd never heard of the goddess Baubo," she told her hostess.



The Amazon returned her grin. "I lied," she said.



Baubo chuckled. "I would have you know me better," she replied--"much better."



Stooping, the warrior placed a palm at each side of Baubo's head, lifting her tenderly to her naked bosom. Baubo's face pressed into Aegina's smooth, soft breasts, and the goddess kissed the sleek flesh. Carrying her guest, the Amazon crossed the room to her bed, placed Baubo on the mattress, and perched beside her. "I would have you know me better, too," she agreed. "I would have you know every inch of me, inside and out."



. . to be continued. . . .

