Dedication: This story is in honour of Pythia, the Oracle of Delphi.

Editor: Dimitra, my developmental editor, whose invaluable assistance with the storyline brought my words and characters to life. Also, many thanks to my proof reader, Filippia and beta reader Brooke. All other errors are mine.

Disclaimer: All characters involved in sexual situations are eighteen years of age or older. This story is a work of fiction. Intellectual property of Egregious. Copyright 2024.

Prologue:

Sometime between 600 and 400 BCE:

Pythia was the name given to the mortal Hellene woman who held the position of the high priestess for the Temple of Apollo at Delphi - she served as the Oracle. Delphi was an important ancient Greek religious sanctuary sacred to the god Apollo. Located on Mt. Parnassus, near the Gulf of Corinth, Delphi was home to Pythia, who gave cryptic predictions and guidance to city-states and individuals.

Why did Hades exile Pythia? Hades managed to protect his lover but couldn’t save their child from Zeus’s lightning bolt. Hades blamed the priestess for their son’s death, attributing it to Oracle’s prophecy. Hades couldn’t destroy Pythia, as she was under Apollo’s protection. Therefore, he decided to punish her. When Pythia’s mortal time came due, Hades exiled her to remain on Earth, living in a cave on the top of Mount Athos, far from her comfortable home at Delphi.

However, Apollo made the decision that Pythia’s ability to foresee the future should not go to waste. As her gift could be used to do much good in the mortal world, Apollo granted Pythia powers over the Hellenes to provide justice for them until she redeemed herself. Scores of pilgrims attempted to find Pythia’s cave, but most perished on their journey.

Over the millennia of Pythia’s imprisonment, she intervened in the lives of many downtrodden mortals whose fates had been tragically altered by events beyond their control. She did what she could to restore balance, even if it took centuries to do so.

August 27, 1883:

Husband and wife Luca and Elena Stanos, accompanied by their two daughters, were returning from a mercy mission to deliver food, medicine, and a squad of Hellenic Gendarmerie to the flood-ravaged capital city of Rhodes. The family’s two-masted sailing ship was north of the island of Milos at sunrise, on a calm morning with a brisk breeze pushing them homeward bound for Greece.

Unknown to the Stanos crew, on the other side of the globe, off the coast of Indonesia, the volcano Krakatoa peaked for its final eruption. This event had worldwide ramifications. More immediately, it caused an underwater landslide beneath the small, barren Greek island of Antimilos, releasing the mythological Sea Monster, Ketos. Angered by aeons of incarceration, the sea serpent was now free to do what it was created to do - attack seafaring vessels.

The kubernetes observed Ketos emerging from the Myrtoan Sea and rang the ship’s warning bell. The crew watched in sheer disbelief as the serpent headed directly for their ship. Within minutes, the serpent had demolished the vessel, devouring all souls. The destruction was complete when the sea god Nereus appeared. He managed to harness the serpent and ride the Ketos back into its underwater prison.

Present day, 1993:

An English couple, Richard and his wife Dorothy Harris, both in their early fifties and with no children, received an all-expenses-paid, eight-day holiday to the small Greek island of Miros.

According to the island’s brochure, Miros’ highest point was almost 210 metres (685 feet) above sea level, and it had an area of 215 hectares (533 acres). The island had a population of fifteen villagers, some six families, who primarily earned a living from the Aegean Sea by fishing, oyster and crayfish farming. There were olive trees, small pine trees, and several dense bushy areas. Goats kept the island’s shrubbery under control and, in turn, provided milk for cheese-making. A wooden pier served the island, allowing small craft to berth and fostering a thriving tourism industry. A microwave phone link with dial-up internet service was the only way to communicate with the mainland. Also, the island held supposedly ancient ruins.

The Harrises arrived after an air flight from Heathrow to Athens, a train ride to the Athens Port of Piraeus, and a two-hour rocky sea trip by ferry to the island of Miros.

A young couple, Stavros and Maria Papadopoulos, met Richard and Dorothy at the pier and led them to their small hotel. Both Maria and Stavros could speak just enough English to make themselves understood. On the walk, Stavros estimated Richard to be in his mid-fifties, around 172 cm (five-foot-eight) tall, with a rounded belly and thinning hair. Upon arriving at the hotel reception, Stavros accepted the unexpected late summer booking receipt handed to him by Richard.

Maria waited patiently to show their guests their room, observing Dorothy, early fifties, 160 cm (five-foot-three), with a thickening waist, sagging breasts, and large bottom; typical British holidaymakers.

Dorothy and Richard were the only visitors staying in the island’s small, four-bedroom family hotel. They had the island’s amenities to themselves!

Daily tourists visited the island, but no other couple stayed overnight. Stavros and Maria also managed a small café where they served coffee or tea to international visitors who wished to view the ruins. Chairs and tables sat on a sandy beach under an ancient olive tree.

The Harrises enjoyed their time dipping themselves in the calm waters, taking a sailboat tour of the island and beyond. They relaxed on a sandy beach, reading a good book and looking at the crystal-clear waters of the Aegean Sea. Fine Greek food was served nightly, and they enjoyed the hospitality of Stavros and Maria in after-dinner conversations each night. They even picked up some of the Greek words and used them.

On their last night on the island, Stavros suggested Dorothy and Richard walk to the ruins on the hill above the village, with a bottle of wine and a light supper, to watch the moon rise over the sea.

Richard and Dorothy had visited the ruins a few days after landing on the island. The single-story outer walls consisted of large rectangle hand-chiselled limestone blocks, one metre long by half a metre high and three-quarters of a metre deep, laid like a brickwork wall without mortar and perfectly seated together to form three-metre walls all around the building.

There was a grand entrance with six stone columns, three on either side, supporting three stone lintels. Below, at the centre, three wide, well-worn stone steps led to the building’s entrance. The layout produced a villa with five rooms in all.

Upon entering the building, there was one step down into a sunken first room. All rooms and corridors had tiled mosaic floors. Long gone was the roof structure; there were no wooden windows or doors, just stone walls remaining.

As Richard and Dorothy were walking up the one-kilometre incline to the ruins, Richard remembered one evening, after a delightful dinner, Stavros had related the story behind the villa ruins and the events that were to unfold, like a Greek tragedy.

“About a hundred and thirty years ago, the Stanos family purchased the island. The family were wealthy sea traders, importing and exporting goods from seaports around the Mediterranean via Greece. They built a grand villa on a prominent limestone outcrop perched 120 metres (390 feet) above sea level on the island’s north-western end.

The family villa became the home base for the shipping fleet for many years. Then tragedy struck the family when the Stanos’ parents’ ship sank in a storm at sea. The eldest son, Alexander, aged twenty five, and his younger brother, Loukas, were now the only family heirs to the shipping empire. However, there was bad blood between the two brothers from a young age.

A year later, it was the evening of Alexander and his fiancée, Pyrena’s wedding, when the best man forcibly abducted the bride at knifepoint minutes before the ceremony. Alexander chased them to the clifftop. During the ensuing struggle, Loukas pushed Pyrena off the cliff, falling to her death.

A fight erupted between the two brothers, ending with Alexander stabbing Loukas and killing him. In his anger, Alexander dragged the dead brother to the cliff edge, throwing the body off. After the tumultuous event, a devastated Alexander left, never to return. With no other heirs, the shipping empire floundered.”

After a sip of his beer, Stavros continued, “The story goes, some ten years after this tragic event, a stranger, dressed in a black cloak, was seen roaming the island. A woman who always sheltered her face from view and spent much time at the villa ruins. She consulted privately with the village elder. Abruptly, the elder announced his departure for Athens.

On the day of the elder’s departure, the lady in black gave a prophecy to the assembled villagers, simply stating, ‘The Stanos family will rise from its ruins!’ Turning, she walked towards the ruins and was never seen again. The elder returned after a month and stated, ‘The Stanos estate is in the hands of a steward’. Three months later, the elder died of old age.”

“And the rest, they say, is history,” said Stavros.

What Stavros didn’t mention was the elder’s warning, “On occasions, childless couples would arrive on the island without notice, seeking shelter. On their last night’s stay, they should be encouraged to view the villa ruins in the full moon.”

As Richard and Dorothy entered the ruins, Richard immediately noticed something had changed. A closer inspection revealed the stone walls didn’t look weathered; they had cleaner, sharper edges than what Richard remembered from their previous visit. A wooden trestle table was placed at the centre of the main entry room with wooden beach seats.

Decorative Persian carpets covered the floor, and brightly coloured Egyptian cotton sheets hung from the tops of the walls and windows. They waved back and forth under a slight Mediterranean breeze. Richard noticed there was still no roof. Looking up, they could see the rising full moon. Richard assumed the villagers had set this up for their benefit on the last night on the island.

The table was covered with a white tablecloth, and there were bowls of grapes, apples, bananas, and other assorted exotic fruits. A handmaiden appeared through the draped sheets and escorted them to the bench seats. Sitting down, Richard noticed a portrait painting of a young woman on the wall above. The sitter looked very much like Dorothy in her younger years.

From the doorway appeared a tall, young, broad-shouldered man with very Greek-like features, olive-coloured skin, long dark wavy hair, and well-developed cheekbones, making a rectangular-shaped face. Richard was surprised to see him wearing the classic ancient dress of chiton and a himation cloak.

Walking over to Dorothy, he took her hand and slowly raised it to his lips. Richard could see Dorothy swoon, and he felt ill at ease. Richard then stood, offering his hand to shake, saying, “I am Richard, and this is my wife, Dorothy.” The man grasped the offered hand firmly. Richard thought, ‘I would not be able to outdo him if push came to shove’.

The man responded and introduced himself, “I am Alexander. Welcome to my family home. My handmaiden has prepared food and wine for my guests.”

Alexander asked, “Where are you from, Richard?”

Richard replied, “We are from England.”

“Well, you both have come a long way. And what is that you do for a living, Richard?” asked Alexander.

“I am an accountant,” replied Richard.

“Dorothy, are you the lady of the house?” asked Alexander.

“Well, yes, I suppose I am. However, I also work as a nurse at the local hospital.”

Alexander said, “Dorothy, I am stunned to find you work in such a noble occupation.”

Richard asked, “Alexander, why are you wearing the classical chiton tunic?”

“The island can become very hot in summer. I find wearing a tunic during my leisure time keeps me cooler.” Came Alexander’s reply.

They chatted amiably about the island, the weather, their home in England, and their visit to Greece, all surprisingly enough, in English. When Richard mentioned using computers in his workplace, he got a distinct impression Alexander didn’t know what Richard spoke of.

Alexander told them of his family’s shipping empire and that he would soon be at the helm. The handmaiden continued to refill their glasses of wine as they indulged in the various fruits and pastries available to eat.

Richard found himself quickly becoming light-headed. Alexander caught Dorothy looking at the hanging portrait.

Alexander said, “That is a painting of my intended bride, Pyrena. We are to be married on the full moon, next month.”

“She is beautiful,” responded Dorothy.

Richard whispered to Dorothy, “Is this an elaborate play performed by the islanders to entertain guests on their final night? Alexander is a good actor.”

Suddenly, the handmaiden produced a lyre from seemingly nowhere and began to play a hauntingly unique melody. Alexander took Dorothy’s hand, and they danced around the room, pulling her close as the music wove its spell. For Dorothy, the room seemed to transform. The mundane surroundings melt away into a vibrant, ethereal dance floor.

Alexander and Dorothy swirled around the room; their movements synchronised to the enchanting rhythm. Richard, watching through bleary eyes, felt a pang of jealousy as he saw Alexander’s arm around Dorothy’s waist, guiding her gracefully across the floor. Richard’s heart raced. But as he tried to move, he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to break free from the invisible chains that bound him.

With each step Alexander took, Richard felt a strange sensation, as if a part of him was being pulled away. He wanted to call out, to protest, but his voice failed him. He could only watch helplessly as Dorothy disappeared behind a curtain with Alexander.

As the music continued to play, Richard felt himself growing increasingly dizzy. The wine he had consumed earlier seemed to swirl in his head, his vision blurring and turning black around the edges.

As darkness closed in around him, Richard’s last thought was of Dorothy, and the feeling of helplessness and longing that consumed him. Suddenly, however, as the music was playing, he couldn’t quite remember what he was so upset about. The music, the wine, and the enchanting atmosphere-it all seemed like a distant dream. Richard felt a strange calmness wash over him. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness, and let himself drift away.

Dorothy:

Alexander had danced me unwittingly into a separate room. I was under Alexander’s spell and undressed, providing no opposition. Naked before his eyes, Alexander dropped his chiton to the floor, and I found my eyes drawn to his masculine chest and, lower, to his rampant erection, somewhat larger than Richards.

As Alexander ran his hands over my form, capturing my breasts, down over my hips, and caressing my abdomen, I felt a tingling sensation covering my whole body. I could feel changes; my breasts felt firmer, my stomach bulge was gone, my thighs and bottom had also tightened. I couldn’t believe the transformation. I felt young and vibrant.

Alexander leant forward, kissing my lips briefly. We continued to dance slowly to the sound of music around the room. I felt his erection pressing against my mons, and I pushed my breasts against his chest. Alexander was gradually seducing me, and my resolve was weakening. I was putty in his hands.

No words were needed as Alexander ushered me to the bed. I lay down, opening my legs wantonly showing him my vulnerability and most prized possession. As I was gently rocking my hips while caressing my clitoris, I watched his long, thick penis sway as he stepped up to the bottom of the bed and kneeled on the bed edge. I pulled my legs back, opening my vagina entrance and inviting him to penetrate my inmost depth. Alexander rubbed his penis up and down my vulva, wetting himself for entry. I was then ready for him, lifting my arms as an open invitation for a lover’s embrace and our union.

Our eyes never lost contact as Alexander sank into me slowly, stretching my vagina to its capacity, until our bodies met. Resting on his elbows, allowing me to adjust, we shared a passionate kiss. We began the millennia-long mating ritual until we reached a crescendo, culminating in our mutual climax.

I could feel him shrinking, and then I could feel our mutual sweat. We disengaged after coming down from our high, rolling apart. Not a word was spoken; no ‘I love you’s’, no endearments. It was only lust that brought us together as if by a maleficent force.

There was no cuddling because we didn’t know one another well enough. We became embarrassed at our actions, letting lust overrun our emotions. Staring at the night sky, realising I had committed adultery on my lifelong spouse, the guilt began to sink in. I felt sick.

Richard:

I had lost track of time. The handmaiden was escorting me into a room with a single bed. She helped me divest myself of my clothing. No sooner had I lay down when a lady dressed in a black cloak entered. She came to my bedside, dropped her cape, and stood naked looking at me. Her body was that of a young woman’s; firm breasts, a narrow waist, and shapely hips. Her mons was lush, with a dark curly bush. I couldn’t see her bottom, but I knew it would be magnificent.

Taking hold of my penis, she began stroking it, and I was sure it doubled in size before my eyes. I felt a tingling sensation running through my body. She quickly mounted me, and we both groaned at our coupling. She felt very tight as I sank inside her. I heard her murmur, “It’s been so long ... I have missed this.”

After our joining, she leaned down and kissed me. Then, approaching my ear, she whispered, “I give you and your consort the gift of youth.” Not understanding her words, I mumbled ‘thanks’ in reply.

Then, she rose and, while still naked, turned and walked towards the doorway. My eyes followed her naked form, the roll of her buttocks - I knew she would have a magnificently kato meros (bottom). As she reached the doorway, I asked her name; “Pythia,” she answered. With her name on my lips, I fell asleep.

Then, Pythia entered the room where Alexander and Dorothy lay asleep, and as she did, Alexander’s body dissolved into thin air. Standing over the naked form of Dorothy, Pythia held her hand above Dorothy’s womb, and with a small, satisfied look, she nodded, saying, “At last!”

Leaning down, she whispered, “You will have a healthy son, and you will name him ‘Alec Stanos’. Care for him, for he has an important future.” Pythia turned to take her leave and vanished from sight.

Richard woke to find himself and Dorothy in bright Mediterranean sunlight. They were lying naked on a sandy beach at the bottom of the cliff, below the villa’s ruins.

Dorothy gazed in astonishment, her eyes widening as she took in the unexpected transformation. She exchanged a bewildered glance with Richard, who stood beside her, equally stunned by the sight before them. The change was drastic, their figures now appearing ten or more years younger, a phenomenon that seemed impossible.

As they processed the surreal situation, a wave of confusion washed over them. They struggled to recall any details from the previous night, their memories shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. It was as though their thoughts were trapped in a maze, each turn leading to another dead end.

Richard felt a sense of urgency, a nagging feeling that there was something crucial he needed to remember. Dorothy, too, felt a gnawing unease.

As they stood there, grappling with the magnitude of the situation, a sense of foreboding settled over them. They couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had occurred, something that had altered the course of their lives in ways they couldn’t yet comprehend.

And then, all the insecurities vanished as Dorothy looked down at Richard. Dorothy was impressed with the new size of Richard’s penis. As soon as she took it in her hand, it instantly enlarged.

Richard was fondling Dorothy’s much firmer breasts, lightly caressing her nipples, when they heard a shout from the distance. Richard turned to see Stavros heading their way. Dorothy took fright and hurried into the ocean as Stavros arrived with a basket, two towels, and bathrobes.

Stavros didn’t look surprised by Richard’s apparent younger, naked body, which left Richard puzzled. It was as if Stavros had expected this all along, and that thought perplexed Richard.

Stavros shouted, “Morning, Richard.”

“Kalimera, Stavros,” Richard replied.

“You did not come to breakfast or answer your bedroom door when I knocked. I peeked in, noticing the made bed and empty room, and your beach towels were still hanging on the rack. I determined you must have gone for an early morning walk and a swim and forgotten them. So, I decided to bring them to you. Maria packed a light breakfast for your last day on the island,” said Stavros.

Richard was bewildered. How could Stavros recognise him? He looked so much younger than he had the day before, and his nakedness only added to the surrealness of the moment. Richard started to believe he was dreaming. The whole situation was too bizarre to be real.

Richard thanked the departing Stavros for his generosity. He laid the towels down and waved Dorothy back. They sat and partook in Maria’s excellent Greek breakfast.

Satisfied with her meal, Dorothy felt frisky and began stroking Richard’s semi-erect cock, bringing it to full height. With no one else around, they slipped into each other’s arms, kissing passionately, and made love on the beach, accompanied by the lapping of the Aegean Sea and the warm Mediterranean sun caressing their bodies.

They rested for a while, still in an embrace, lightly touching their lips together, affirming their love for each other. Separating after a time and donning their bathrobes, they headed back to the hotel for a shower.

Slowly, as the morning wore on, fuzzy memories from the previous evening began to resurface in Richard’s mind. Dorothy too was troubled by the foggy details of night’s events at the ruins. Neither acknowledged openly to each other they were trouble.

Just before the midday meal, Richard suggested they revisit the ruins, to which Dorothy agreed. They quickly walked to the ruins and found it to be just that - Ruins, bare of any furnishings. Both decided to put it down to too much wine and Greek myth and not mention the event to Stavros. After lunch, they packed for the afternoon launch back to the mainland, still not understanding what had happened to them on their trip to Greece.

On the bus ride to Athens’ airport, Richard and Dorothy exchanged odd glances, silently acknowledging the strange occurrences they had experienced. The memories lingered in their minds, a puzzle they couldn’t quite solve. Believing those memories were merely a dream would be easy if they hadn’t transformed into their much younger selves.

Richard hesitated, his words coming out slowly. “I have a vague memory ... of a Greek woman, with whom I was ... intimate.” He paused, hesitant to continue.

Dorothy’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s strange. I also dreamt of ... a similar encounter, but with a man.”

They looked at each other, both realising the uncanny similarity in their experiences. They tried to brush it off as a dream, but the unease lingered in the air; a silent acknowledgement that something deeper was at play. They knew it wasn’t a dream, as they were visibly younger, so something inexplicable must have happened to them.

Richard said, “I faintly recall the woman in my dream saying, ‘This is my special gift for you and your spouse’.” His words hung in the air, carrying a weight of uncertainty and intrigue.

On their flight back to England, they found themselves immersed in a deep discussion. “How are we going to explain our dramatic body changes to our neighbours and work colleagues?” Dorothy pondered aloud, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Since, we both have no immediate family that won’t be a problem,” she added, trying to find a silver lining in their perplexing situation.

Richard’s mind raced with possibilities as they delved into the topic. “Exercise and weight loss would be hard to justify this change over such a short holiday,” he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. “And usually, holidaymakers put on weight, not lose it.” He shook his head in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the inexplicable transformation they had undergone.

As they drove back to their home in Watford, Richard’s mind buzzed with a sudden realisation. “The immediate problem will be our neighbours. What if we say we are two different people?” he suggested, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Dorothy glanced at him, a look of deep concentration etched across her face. The weight of their situation pressed heavily upon her as they contemplated the implications of Richard’s proposal. “Hi, I’m William, Richard’s younger brother, and this is my wife, Mary,” he practised quietly, testing the words on his tongue. “Richard and Dorothy decided to stay in Greece. Richard applied for a five-year accounting contract with an English firm based in Athens, so they opted to stay, and we intend to rent their house, as we are planning a family.”

The words hung in the air, their implications sinking in. It was a drastic step, one that would irrevocably alter the course of their lives. Richard and Dorothy would have to bid farewell to their identities, their careers, and everything they had built together. The prospect of starting anew was daunting yet exhilarating in its uncertainty.

Dorothy took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. “Okay, but it would be too suspicious if Mary was also a nurse,” she reasoned aloud, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. “So, I’ll quit. I’ve not been happy working at the hospital for some time now. I have always wanted to take my amateur painting to the next level. I suppose now I can do that. You will also have to quit your job and find a new one.”

They exchanged a sombre glance, acknowledging the gravity of their decision. It was a leap of faith into the unknown, driven by circumstances they could neither control nor fully comprehend. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of excitement, a sense of possibility that beckoned them forward.

As they approached their home, Richard and Dorothy braced themselves for the adventure that lay ahead. It was a journey into uncharted territory, fraught with challenges and uncertainties. But it was also a chance for renewal, for reinvention, and for the discovery of a new beginning.

As the days turned into weeks, Richard and Dorothy settled into their new identities as William and Mary Harris. They were amazed at how easily their neighbours accepted their new story. It took a bit to get used to being called William and Mary, but they found it oddly fitting in the end.

However, one day, as they were leaving their house, they bumped into Mrs. Thompson, an elderly neighbour who had known Richard and Dorothy for years. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at them, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Richard? Dorothy?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”

Richard and Dorothy exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to respond. They had anticipated that someone might eventually recognise them, but they hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

“You have the wrong couple,” Richard interjected quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from their true identities. “We are William and Mary Harris. I am Richard’s younger brother, and this is my wife. We recently moved in here as my brother and his wife, Dorothy, relocated to Greece for business.”

Mrs. Thompson’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before she shook her head, a bemused smile playing on her lips. “I see,” she said, her tone uncertain. “You two don’t even look like their relatives; you look exactly like them but much younger. The similarity is incredible!” she remarked.

Richard and Dorothy exchanged a panicked glance. Thinking fast, Richard lightly squeezed Dorothy’s hand and decided to hold out, and was about to respond when...

“It must be my imagination!” Mrs. Thompson exclaimed suddenly, her eyes widening in realisation. “These things don’t happen,” she added, laughing nervously.

Richard and Dorothy let out a sigh of relief as Mrs. Thompson said goodbye and walked away. They had managed to maintain their cover.

Richard quit his job at WHK Accountants and applied for a job advertised in “The Times” newspaper at Prescott and Wharton* in the city. The couple was surprised when Richard received an offer after only one interview. The wage was unexpectedly nearly double his earned salary in the previous job he held. So, Dorothy could stay home and paint to her heart’s content.