The Lusty Adventures of Theseus by Arthur Griffin Guest Post!

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Hiya guys we have Arthur Griffin popping in today with his upcoming release The Lusty Adventures of Theseus, Arthur chats about his inspirations for writing The Lusty Adventures of Theseus, and there’s a tantalizing excerpt! So enjoy the post! <3 ~Pixie~

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The Lusty Adventures of Theseus


Arthur Griffin

The myth of Theseus and the Minotaur has never been quite this steamy!

Handsome Theseus journeys to Athens to claim his birthright as heir to the throne, and along the way he meets the roguish Pirithous, who teaches him all about matters of the heart—and body. When they reach the city, Theseus is shocked to discover that his father, the king, has a tradition of sacrificing youths to the Minotaur, the monster that inhabits the island nation of Crete.

Theseus and Pirithous, along with Iphitrion, a slave boy they befriend, set out to slay the Minotaur. After learning Crete is ruled by a mad tyrant with a fetish for orgies, Theseus puts his new skills to the test, fighting, flirting, and fornicating his way through the ranks, working his way past soldiers, satyrs, and gods alike as he attempts to accomplish his goal and save his city.

Release date 9th March 2016

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Arthur Griffin


I had a lot of inspirations for writing The Lusty Adventures of Theseus. But one of the biggest, and I swear I’m not kidding, was Flesh Gordon.

Not FLASH Gordon.

FLESH Gordon. As in the 70’s-tastic, utterly campy soft porn parody.

My earliest days of technical adulthood coincided with the earliest days of Netflix, and I remember using that service to go on a binge of renting the strange, the bizarre, and occasionally the immensely naughty. I grew up in a town that didn’t have any privately-owned video stores (just Blockbuster), so I only had access to the super-mainstream titles. But I decided I needed to put myself through unofficial film schools by watching all that fringe cinema had to offer.

Someone had mentioned Flesh Gordon to me, and upon hearing of its existence, I was determined to see it. For those who haven’t had the dubious pleasure, rest assured that it is a TERRIBLE movie. It’s so, so, so aggressively bad.

It’s also sort of… fun.

I loved the idea of a sci-fi (or in my case, fantasy) story actually following all the usual tropes, but everyone just having an insane amount of sex while doing it. There was something so unabashedly perverted and joyful about the way sex was integrated into every facet of the plot, even when it made no sense.

I wanted to make something like that but with a gay spin, so I took one of the most archetypal Greek myths out there – Theseus and the Minotaur – and put it through a hyper-sexual filter. And because this was an erotic romance, I also wanted to really focus on the loving relationship between my two leads. (The emotional component was something Flesh Gordon, for all its “strengths,” lacked.)

The other thing I wanted to make sure of was that it was funny. One of the most enjoyable aspects of Flesh Gordon was its dedication to having fun while telling the story. I wanted to honor that as much as I could.

So if you’re looking for a fun, breezy, adventure-filled sex-athon with strapping male leads, I have a feeling you’ll enjoy The Lusty Adventures of Theseus. And who knows? Maybe if grindhouse exploitation films come back into vogue, we’ll even make a movie of it!

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The day was hot, and so Theseus threw his traveling cloak back over his shoulders, letting the sun pour down on his otherwise nude body. If he spied any women coming down the path, he would be sure to lower his wool covering—it was unlawful for a woman to behold a naked man in public. But for now he was alone, and so he marched along, cloak back and cock forward, carrying his sandals so he could feel the well-trodden grass between his toes.

Theseus looked down at his compact torso, at his genitals bouncing happily as he walked, and at the strong legs below. His body was hard and chiseled from a life of rigorous farmwork, and pleasingly brown from the sun. He smiled, knowing he made an impressive figure.

And impressive was exactly what he needed to be, considering he was about to claim future ownership of the throne of Athens.

He heard a great rumbling in the distance. Up ahead, the path curved around a hill, so his view was blocked. The sound grew louder, and before his astonished eyes a herd of cattle rounded the bend heading straight for him! Behind them, a lad of an age with Theseus was riding a magnificent white stallion, yelling at the cattle and cracking a whip. When he saw Theseus, he ceased his yelling, and as one, the cattle slowed to a lumbering walk.

The young man was clad in a vibrant red chiton tunic that draped from his right shoulder to his waist, leaving half his chest exposed. His body was all ropy muscle, lean and sinewy, and his chest was tanned and glorious, the one exposed nipple soft and brown. There was a mischievous glint to his eyes, which were greenish blue and remarkably pretty. His hair, a light sandy brown, fell to his shoulders, and a day-old beard dusted his chin.

“Hello, there, handsome stranger,” the youth said. “A fine day to you.”

“And to you,” Theseus said, mimicking his pleasantries. The youth had an Athenian accent, crisp and polished. Theseus suddenly felt ashamed of his rough countryside dialect.

The boy looked him up and down, his eyes feasting hungrily on the muscles in Theseus’s abdomen before lowering to rest on Theseus’s cock. He licked his lips. “I am Pirithous of Athens,” he said. “And who might you be? From the markings on your cloak, you are no Athenian. Where do you hail from?”

“Troezen,” Theseus said. “But Athens is my destination.”

“You’re a long way from home,” Pirithous said.

“Not exactly. Athens is to be my new home.”

“Is that so? Well, bully for you. I’m leaving Athens, as it happens.”

“Athens is the center of the world. Why would you leave?”

“The center of the world? Oh, but you are from the provinces, aren’t you?”

Pirithous kicked a leg over his horse’s neck, and as his tunic flew up, Theseus caught a quick glimpse of a low-hanging scrotum and dark, inviting hole.

Pirithous dropped to the ground and approached Theseus. He looked down at Theseus’s cock and said, “You know, in Athens it’s said a man is only truly naked when his skin is withdrawn and the head of his penis is exposed.”

“The same is said in my village.”

“I would see all of you.” Pirithous licked his lips once again.

Theseus saw a bulge beginning to form in the front of the other young man’s tunic. “Tell me why you’re in such a rush to leave Athens,” he said, dodging the advance.

Pirithous smiled wickedly. “Can you keep a secret?” When Theseus nodded, he continued, “The cattle belong to Aegeus. I’m… liberating them. For a small return, of course.”

“You stole from the king?” Theseus was shocked.

Liberated. Stealing is such a nasty word. Anyway, Aegeus deserves that and more. If you knew anything of Athens, you’d know that.”

“You slander your own king?” Theseus’s blood started to boil. “And you dare condescend to me? Thief!”

“What’s it to you anyway?” Pirithous seemed surprised by Theseus’s anger. “You’re not even Athenian. You hold no allegiance to Aegeus.”

“I am his son!” Theseus shouted.

Pirithous cocked his head to the side and stared at him. “The king has no son.”

“He does, though he’s never laid eyes on me. I go to claim my birthright.”

“A bastard. Fascinating.” Pirithous returned to his stallion, reached into a cloth bag tied to the saddle, and produced a small clay jar. “Well, wayward prince, let it never be said I’m not a fair youth.” He laughed. “For I am fair—both to look upon and when following rules.”


“Indeed, rules. Can I assume you mean to challenge me for possession of the cattle?”

Theseus regarded him warily. “I do.”

“Right, very good, then. Are you acquainted with the sport of wrestling?”

Theseus’s eyes narrowed. “I am.”

“Well, we’ll have a nice contest, then. The first to pin the other wins the cattle. I’d say that’s fair, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Completely.” Theseus smiled cockily. This youth had no idea of the strength Theseus possessed.

“And this is no pancration match, mind you. No striking or kicking of any kind. Pure wrestling. Civilized. Do we have an accord?”

“We do.”

Pirithous untied the rope that belted his tunic, and with one sweeping motion, he pulled the chiton up over his head and threw it over the horse’s back.

Theseus felt his heart quicken when he beheld the other boy in his nudity. Pirithous was spectacular to look upon: two large square muscles made up his chest, finely woven bumps lined his stomach, his thighs were long and lean, and a thick cock hung low and heavy, clearly half-alive from when Pirithous inspected Theseus so closely. Though he tried to set his mind to the task at hand, Theseus couldn’t help but feel his mouth water at the sight of the other young man.

Despite his anger, he wondered what it would feel like to take that long, thick cock in his mouth. He had never done such a thing himself, but he had heard other boys in his village talking about it because it was expected of them by their erastes mentors.

Pirithous uncapped the bottle and poured the contents—some sort of oil—onto his chest, letting it drip down his body. He spread the oil all over himself, working it deep into his skin until he shone, slick and wet, in the sunlight. As Pirithous smeared the oil onto his penis, Theseus felt his own cock immediately begin to stiffen.


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About Arthur

Arthur Griffin fell in love with mythology as a six-year-old when his mother, not able to find a sitter, took him with her to her art history class. They were studying Renaissance paintings of Greek and Roman legends, and he learned two very important things that day.

One, that there was a whole new world of thrilling stories and myths for him to explore and be enchanted by.

And two, dude! A lot of people were naked back then!

Since then, he’s always enjoyed the steamier side of stories of the ancient world, and is thrilled to be exploring them in his writing. Sometimes his stories are set in a fictional version of the past, or sometimes the gods of old come knockin’ (boots) in the present, but almost always there’s some element of mythology visible in his work.

Arthur lives in Los Angeles with his boyfriend, and works as a ghostwriter and screenwriter. When he’s not writing fantastical tales of two (or more) dudes doing the bone dance, he enjoys hiking, karaoke, superhero comics, getting drinks in West Hollywood, going to the beach, going to the gym, going to the movies, and writing non-smutty screenplays. (But for the record, smut is WAY more fun.)

You can follow him on Twitter at @MrArthurGriffin, on Facebook at, or email him at

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