Trojan Slaves (10 page)

Master Wang
pushed at the edge of the cylinder. It revolved easily and Calliope
was spun around, turning upside down and returning twice to the
place she started before Wang grabbed the cylinder and stopped it.
Calliope looked terrified. Her eyes flitted from side to side,
unsure where to look, not knowing from where the threat was coming,
only apprehensive of its unknown form. She gasped, panting
uncomfortably against the straining position she was in, desperate
for breath.

Master Wang
pushed the cylinder slowly until Calliope's head hung back and her
strained sex was uppermost. He stroked her nipples then ran his
hand across her stomach. He inserted his finger into her vagina.
She looked around frantically, not knowing who was violating her,
not knowing what was going to happen next. He pulled his finger out
slightly and took hold of the golden ring. He tugged and Calliope
squealed. He tugged again and she yelped louder. He twisted it and
she screeched. He twisted it more and she screamed.

Her screams
reverberated around the courtyard and Sappho drank them in. She
gulped at the air and drew Calliope's suffering in, feeding on it,
nourishing herself with it.

Master Wang
released the ring and Calliope's scream turned into a relieved
bleat. He ordered one of the men to kneel in front of her face and
insert his cock into her mouth. Sappho watched the erection go in,
slowly at first, finding its way, pushing against Calliope's
tongue, then more forcibly, and finally, when it was secure and
Calliope could not hold it back, it sank in completely, right to
the hilt. There was nothing to be seen of it. Calliope's lips were
stretched firmly around the base. Sappho pictured its length inside
Calliope, the bulbous end down her throat, the thick shaft
impressed against its sides. She imagined the sensation of its
throbbing bulk, its venous surface, squeezed in so tightly and she
felt her own pleasure increasing and her own need demanding more.
She did not know how to get it and so abandoned herself to movement
- clawing, reaching, and imagining. She had lost control of
herself.

One after
another the men thrust their cocks into Calliope's mouth. Each one
went in completely, each one emerging covered in spit and oozing
semen. It dripped into Calliope's nostrils and into her eyes,
pulling down her eyelashes with heavy, sticky globs.

When they had
all ejaculated into her throat, and when her face was covered in
their seed, they spun her on the cylinder, winding it around until
she was too confused to sense the ground. Disorientated and giddy,
her head reeled with the sickening dizziness of her confused
senses. Sappho watched her eyes turning upwards, straining to tell
up from down. She watched her mouth gaping, but she did not feel
sorry for her; Calliope's pitiful state only drove Sappho's ecstasy
higher.

Master Wang
ordered the hose brought, and when they released the full flow of
water from the high tank it was directed squarely at Calliope. They
kept her spinning giddily and the force of the water was aimed at
her revolving body. First it smacked her face, filling her mouth
and nostrils, washing the semen from her eyes, making her choke and
cough. It found her breasts, hitting them harshly, causing her hard
nipples to tighten even more. Then as she spun relentlessly the
force of the water streamed between her legs, opening her sex,
spraying harshly between the fleshy lips, squirting forcibly into
her anus and running away between her taut buttocks. Then it was
directed at the soles of her feet - a cold, brutal stream sloshing
across their tender skin. The cylinder went full circle, and still
gasping and choking from the first dousing she took it again in the
face.

'I can stand
it no longer,' gasped Sappho. 'I cannot wait. Are you ready for
me?'

Chryseis held
her fingers stiffly inside her, holding her back, keeping her on
the brink for a few more seconds. She looked back at the thick
handle of an old bullwhip cast aside and left in the cell. She
licked her lips in fresh expectation.

'Yes, I am
ready, my dear Sappho.'

Chryseis
pulled her fingers out of Sappho's anus, grabbed the handle of the
whip and thrust it in their place. Sappho screeched, gulping for
breath, her eyes wide with shock. Her mind filled with new
sensations: surprise, the coldness of the leather handle, the
hardness of it, its length, its penetration. She felt the bulbous
end deep in her rectum, forcing higher, reaching into her bowels.
She was afraid. She held her breath, unsure what was going to
happen, unsure if she could take it. Suddenly, as if a dam had
burst, she found herself riding it, crouching back and riding it,
drawing it higher, burying it inside her as deeply as she could.
Now she only wanted it to penetrate her, only needed it high within
her. She just wanted to feel stuffed with it, filled to the brim,
impaled on it. She screamed out loud - a shrill spasm of a scream,
high-pitched, endless - and her orgasm began to flow.

Sappho watched
Calliope spinning on the cylinder as the men brought out whips and
flailed her breasts. The ragged-ended implements caught her nipples
sharply and, as she revolved, bit into the tender flesh of her
cunt. Sappho was overcome - filled with it all. Her rectum was
full; she could feel the whip handle in her bowels. She was filled
with what she saw, breathing in extra flashes of it sharply
whenever she could gasp. The pains in her arms and legs where they
poked through the grill only fed her joy. The biting sting of the
metal edges had overcome her too. And she felt drowned in the speed
of Chryseis' penetrating fingers in her sopping sex. She could no
longer hold her ecstasy in. It was built up fully inside her,
choking her, spewing out of her, making her head reel, turning her
inside out. She coughed and choked then, unable to resist its
pressure any more, she submitted and it was released. She screamed,
long and shrill, spit frothing from her mouth and running down her
chin. Her screaming would not stop, a sound that spoke only of her
ecstatic submission to pleasure. Her privacy was in tatters. She
was completely exposed. She had relinquished all control of herself
and become her own vulnerability.

Praxis swung
around, not knowing what he was hearing, but somehow directed by
everyone else's glare. Master Wang looked up and saw Sappho, her
arms and legs forced through the grill, her face pressed against
it. She saw his gaze and convulsed with a jerking orgasm that, once
started, would not release her. She bucked and shook and, as she
saw all eyes below turn up to her it began anew, taking on a
different form, drawing on fresh sensations, fresh resources. Now
her orgasm was coming from her exposure to the eyes that watched
her, to the vulnerability of it, the embarrassment, the dread that
came with their staring, intruding eyes. She shook faster. She
gasped for breath then, her eyes bulging, her face flushed, she
started screaming again.

Suddenly there
was a loud crash at the huge wooden entrance doors to the
courtyard. Praxis looked around blindly. He held up his
brass-tipped rod with one hand and grasped desperately for Master
Wang with the other. Another crash against the doors and they fell
forward into the braziers in an explosion of fiery ashes, dust and
smoke.

Achilles and
Ajax stood at the entrance, their legs wide, their shields up and
their gleaming swords piercing the air.

They spotted
Chryseis and Sappho straight away. Now they were both pressed
against the grill, their squirming legs wrapped around each other's
heads as their tongues delved into each other's cunts. They had
hardly heard the Greeks breaking down the doors. They were too
absorbed in their own mutual pleasures. When they realised
something was happening it was too late to hide themselves or
escape.

One of
Achilles' men dragged them down into the courtyard. They were both
flushed with shame and hung their heads as they were pulled before
Achilles. Sappho still had her robe on but it was pulled up around
her shoulders. The insides of her thighs glistened with Chryseis'
saliva and her own silky moisture. Chryseis was naked, breathless
and soaked with sweat.

Achilles
looked only at Sappho. She captivated him. He strode to her.
Chryseis tried to stand in front of her - a faint act of protection
- but Achilles brushed her aside. Chryseis tried again but this
time he smacked her across the cheek and she fell silent to the
floor.

'You are truly
beautiful,' he said to Sappho, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Are
you a god or a mortal? What is your name?'

'Sappho,' she
replied nervously.

'Sappho, you
belong to me,' he said with assured certainty.

Turning to his
men he shouted, 'I claim her as my prize!' He turned and walked
back to the broken doors.

Ajax ran up to
him.

'And the other
one, my lord?' He looked back at Chryseis. 'What will you have done
with her? Should she be shared amongst the men?'

'Send her as a
gift to Agamemnon. He did not join us in battle today. Perhaps this
woman will help make sure his muscles do not ache too much from
fatigue!'

Ajax looked
around the courtyard. His eyes fell on Praxis, cowering behind the
gantry and holding onto Master Wang's shiny green robe. He strutted
over to him, recognising him immediately.

'And here, we
have an old friend from the past. Praxis, I see you have fared well
since we last met. Do you not recognise me?' he said mockingly.
'Can you not see it is I, your lord Ajax?'

'My lord Ajax?
Is that truly you?'

'It is indeed,
Praxis. And I have decided, this moment, to take you back with me.
You will be far more use in the Greek encampment than you are here.
Come, gather your flock together. I look forward to benefiting from
your skills.' He pointed to Calliope. 'And do not forget that one.
She seems spirited. I am sure she will be no match for Ajax, even
though she may have defeated the mighty Praxis.'

All the slaves
were collected. Sappho had a tight leather collar, with Achilles'
emblem on it, clipped around her neck. Chryseis had the same, but
with the mark of Agamemnon blazed along its edges. Naked or
clothed, they were all paraded out of the courtyard and into the
streets outside. It had only been a raid, and the Greeks were keen
to escape before the Trojans mustered their resources and came in
force to meet them.

Together with
the others Sappho and Chryseis were bundled through an opening
broken into the massive wall of Troy. They looked around amazed as
they found themselves in the open. Neither of them had ever seen
the world outside the city before. The great plain of Troy
stretched before them. Bodies of fallen soldiers lay in the sun
waiting for the evening when they would be collected by their
comrades. Sappho and Chryseis were not allowed to pause as they
were driven out across the wide field between the high walls and
the Greek encampment of ships. They gasped for breath as they were
hurried across the exposed area of ground and Sappho, glancing back
only quickly, wondered if either of them would ever see their home
in Troy again.

The women were
marched into the Greek encampment. They had their wrists tied
tightly behind their backs with leather thongs. Some walked
upright, their breasts thrust forward, proud and disdainful. Others
hung their heads, fearful of their futures, shamed by the
humiliation of their nakedness, degraded by their captivity. Short
chains were clipped to their collars and strung together in a long
row. They were so close together that it was difficult for them to
walk and some of them tripped on the heels of those in front. They
were dirty from their journey across the dusty plain. It clung to
them in muddy smears. The dust mingled with their sweat and stained
the smooth skin of their breasts and buttocks. It was as if they
had been roughly daubed by a defiling hand.

The Greek
soldiers stood around their boats and jeered and shouted as the
women shuffled and stumbled past. Some of the men prodded at them,
some spat on them, one lashed out with a thin cane. It caught
Sappho on her bare buttocks and she winced as the sharp pain
penetrated her. The man laughed and struck her again. This time she
did not react, hoping he would leave her alone.

'A dirty bitch
indeed!' he shouted and struck her again. 'We cannot allow such
unclean women into our camp.'

Sappho hung
her head in shame. Chryseis walked in front of her and looked up,
but when one of the soldiers spat on her she dropped her head again
and fixed her eyes to the ground.

They were
driven into a clear area of smooth yellow sand. It reflected the
heat of the sun from its surface. Large wooden boats towered above
them on each side. Banners, flags and armour hung from their black
sides and soldiers lined up in four rows to form a square.

Sappho felt
the heat of the sand on the soles of her feet. She screwed up her
toes to try and reduce the burning, but as she was pushed forward
she lost her balance and fell. She dropped heavily on the collar
around her neck, hanging on the short chains which led in front and
behind her. She gasped and fought to get back to her feet, but as
she was dragged along by the other women it was impossible to stand
up. She heard the soldiers laughing at her, and felt a sharp stick
poking in her side. She twisted on the collar, coughing and
choking, falling backwards and being hauled along by the neck with
her heels trailing in the sand. She looked up at the hot sun as
with her mouth wide open, but unable to breathe, she felt her eyes
rolling up and the warmth of unconsciousness sweeping over her. The
men's laughter turned into distant echoes. The collar around her
throat felt so heavy she thought she would be dragged beneath the
earth. She felt hands around her ankles, lifting, suspending her by
the neck on the collar. She felt herself swaying from side to side.
The sun flickered in front of her eyes. Suddenly she was back on
her feet, running, struggling to keep up, as the women were driven
inside the square of men.