Trojan Whores (15 page)

Achilles and
his men crouched amongst the wood and iron scaffolding that was the
framework of the mighty beast. Huge timber uprights were clamped
with iron bolts to cross members upon which an internal floor was
laid. Soldiers stooped in the confined space, weighed down with
their armour, anxious to see battle. Pensively they ran their
fingers along the edges of their sword blades. They tested the
sharpness with their nails, satisfying themselves that they had
done everything possible to prepare for what lay ahead. Achilles
rested on one knee, waiting for the moment to break free from the
innards of the horse. His piercing dark eyes reflected his
single-minded preoccupation with victory and destruction. He was a
warrior created for action. He had no other purpose. Two oil lamps
burned in the horse's eyes. The light from them reflected back into
the beast and cast a greasy yellow glow onto its silent
occupants.

Some soldiers,
restless for action, moved about silently in the belly of the
beast. They appeared like wraiths in the half light cast from the
lamps. They prowled amongst the sleeping women, stepping between
their sprawled legs, lifting their feet over the women's entangled
arms. One of the men bent and circled one erect nipple with his
fingers. She lay exhausted, unconscious, stifled in the heat,
unaware of his touch. He circled her nipple again, this time
offering more pressure. Still she did not respond. She lay on her
back, sleeping deeply, her legs apart, her arms up above her head.
The slit of her cunt could just be seen in the half light, the dark
indentation between its lips a delightful invitation to what lay
within. The soldier looked at his comrades. They came closer. One
of them bent and ran his hand down the woman's flat stomach. He
felt the curve of her thighs and followed the delicious line along
her slender waist. Still she did not move, completely unconscious.
Another let his hand fall between her legs, near the top of one
thigh. He felt the soft skin, its tension and smoothness. He moved
his hand up until it touched the exquisite flesh of her cunt. He
pressed the palm against it. It was firm, but gave under the
pressure. Still she did not move. He let a finger press against her
flesh. It opened to reveal a glistening line of moisture. He traced
it with his fingertip. The lips opened more.

The two men
knelt beside the woman, both aware of Achilles nearby, both
conscious of the need to remain quiet inside the horse. Eva watched
them. She saw their furtive eyes, their surreptitious movements.
She saw the closed eyes of the woman, her mouth half open, her
chest rising and falling with slow breaths. She listened to the
rhythm of her breathing. She stroked Calliope, picking up the tempo
of the soldier's hand as he began massaging the woman's glimmering
cunt. Calliope responded to Eva's touch. She rested her head
against Eva's leg and purred.

The man
pressed his finger against the woman's clitoris. Eva saw it raised
between the fleshy lips. She watched it throbbing against the man's
probing finger. She saw the woman's hips lifting against his touch.
When she looked at her eyes they were still closed; testimony to
her sleepy unawareness.

The man was
emboldened by her lack of response. He let his finger inside her
channel. Still she lay silent, exposed, unmoving. He moved it up
and down, as if it were a cock. She parted her lips slightly. He
stopped for a moment, checking to see if she would rouse. But she
did not. She remained quiet and still. The other soldier took his
sword from its scabbard. He held the blade in his gloved hand. He
offered the butt end of the handle, the pommel, against the woman's
cunt, just beneath where the other man's finger was inserted. She
squirmed against it. The one with his finger in her sex pulled it
out and presented its tip to her anus. He pressed it against the
tight circular muscle. Eva watched it dilating under the pressure.
It opened up for what was being offered, welcoming it in. Still the
woman did not awaken.

Calliope
tugged on her lead. Eva held her back. The strain on the lead sent
a quiver of excitement through Eva. She wanted it tighter. She
pulled Calliope back, just to sense the excitement of the increased
tension. Calliope eased herself against the lead's restraint, but
slowly, not allowing the tension to decrease, keeping the pressure
on her collar and on the loop of the leash in Eva's hand.

Eva watched
the handle of the sword entering the woman. The leatherwork
glistened at the fleshy entrance. It soaked up the moisture that
ran from it. It picked up the orange light from the oil lamps in
the horse's eyes. The man forced the handle in slowly. It entered
to the hilt. Still the woman remained motionless, completely at
rest, her sleep undisturbed, her dreams uninterrupted. The other
man pressed his finger into her anus. He kept the pressure up until
his knuckle stopped it from entering any more. The moisture from
the woman's sex ran down the palm of his hand. It shone with
wetness as he pressed his finger harder, just to test that it could
go no deeper, just to be sure it was at the limit.

Calliope
pulled against the lead. Eva held her back. This time the pressure
was greater. Calliope's enthusiasm to pull against the restraining
collar was increased. Eva let Calliope have some slack. Calliope
pulled forward, moving first her one hand then the other. Eva
tugged, but only teasingly, not with any true purpose or intention
to restrain.

A third man
crouched above the woman's face. He held his cock and pressed the
swollen end against the woman's parted lips. She opened her mouth
more as it touched. He waited and watched. She did not wake. He
pressed. She reared up a little, opening her mouth wide, allowing
it fully inside. Still she was asleep.

Calliope
pulled more. Eva let her, enjoying the movement as well as the
tension. Calliope moved one knee then the other. Slowly she
crawled. She stopped behind the man with the sword. Eva held her
there, pulling the lead tight, waiting, expectant, filled with the
excitement of anticipation.

Calliope
pressed the side of her face against the man's thigh. He turned and
saw her. He looked at Eva, unsure what to do. Did he have her
approval? Should he speak? Eva looked down at the woman and opened
her mouth. She licked her tongue out and drew it back slowly.
Calliope pressed harder and moved her head up and down against the
man. She curled against him, bending her body so that her waist
squeezed against his thigh. He removed the handle of his sword from
the sleeping woman. He realised he did not have to ask for
approval.

Calliope
pulled and Eva allowed her some slack. Calliope crawled until she
was by the side of the sleeping woman. She dropped her head and
took an erect nipple in her mouth. She raised her buttocks and
allowed them to part enough to display the shape of her fleshy sex.
Its centre glistened in the dim light. Moisture coated it. It
parted more as she dipped her back. Eva pulled the lead until it
was tight, but she had no expectation, no desire, that Calliope
would do anything other than brace herself against its tension,

She felt
Calliope's panting breaths through the taut lead, telling her of
Calliope's growing excitement. She moved the loop of the lead
against her own sex. The man with the sword held the pommel of the
handle against Calliope's anus. It shone with the moisture from the
sleeping woman. Calliope lifted herself to it. Her panting
increased, sending shivering shocks through the taut lead, passing
directly into Eva's hungry sex.

Calliope's
anus welcomed the handle of the sword. The rounded butt entered,
opening the anal muscle, pressing past its elasticity, allowing it
to close tightly behind its bulbous shape. Calliope's breathing
quickened. The pulses in the lead increased. Eva's cunt tingled
with excitement. The ribbed handle sank deeper. Bound with leather
and wire and covered with sharkskin for a better grip, it tugged
against the silky flesh. Calliope started gasping. Eva tightened
the shiny leather against her own moist softness. The handle went
deeper, the shagreen tugging at the fleshy channel it penetrated.
Eva watched the sword enter to the ornate cross guard, the whole of
the hilt inside Calliope's anus.

She looked at
the men with the sleeping woman, one with his heavy cock in her
mouth, another with his finger deep inside her anus. Everything was
silent except for Calliope's gasping breaths. Eva dropped to her
knees. She wanted the handle of the sword penetrating her cunt. She
wanted the man's finger deep in her anus. She wanted the throbbing
cock in her mouth. She wanted to be in Calliope's place. She wanted
to feel the collar tight around her throat. She wanted to feel her
mistress pulling at the lead, controlling her movements, taking
away her will. She wanted to feel the restraining hand of another.
She wanted to sleep while she was violated. She wanted to wake and
find herself sore with the penetration of which she knew nothing.
She wanted everything that was before her. She wanted every image
in her mind to become reality.

Suddenly she
felt the powerful hand of Achilles on her shoulder. She jumped,
startled. He held his hand across her mouth, ensuring she did not
cry out, making sure she knew she must be silent. She did not move.
He let his hand drop. She remained still, overcome by the sensation
of his powerful body, his closeness, his strength. He nodded
slowly. She took his nod as an order to remain silent, to keep
still until he told her otherwise. She thrilled at being in his
control. She kept the strap of the leash between her thighs.
Shivers of joy ran through her body in a surging tide.

Achilles
looked at the man who held his sword handle in Calliope's anus. The
man pulled it out. Calliope gasped and dropped forward. Achilles
knelt behind her. He lifted his leather tunic and took out his
weighty cock. He held it in his hand as it stiffened and grew. Eva
stared down at it, unable to move, hardly able to breathe. Achilles
held the swollen globe between Calliope's buttocks, just touching
them, just allowing them to feel the heat of his shaft. Calliope,
still panting, raised up on her arms and strained her head back.
She tightened her throat, squeezing the exit for her breaths,
making them even louder. Achilles held the throbbing tip against
her open anus. Eva saw it widen as it sensed the approach. The tip
pressed against it. The glans of Achilles' cock penetrated.
Calliope gasped.

Achilles
picked up a rag and held it in both hands. He pulled it across her
mouth. She let it between her teeth and grasped it tightly. He
pulled back and as he tightened it against her bite he thrust his
hips forward and buried his cock deep into her anus. She inhaled
suddenly and heavily through flared nostrils. She bit on the rag.
Achilles forced his cock in as deep as it would go. Calliope held
her breath. Eva saw it was fully embedded, its length penetrating
Calliope. She had it all.

Eva watched
the sleeping woman, the unconscious plaything of the men. She
watched the rigid stem in her mouth as the man massaged its length
and coaxed his semen to flow. Achilles thrust again into Calliope's
welcoming anus. He held the rag tight. Calliope inhaled and exhaled
like a wild animal, brought to the ground, tied to a stake and
defiled by her ruthless captors.

Achilles
thrust deeper. Through the lead Eva felt the tension in Calliope's
body. She felt the thrusting of Achilles. Her head filled with the
gasping of the ecstatic Calliope. She desperately wanted to get
down in Calliope's place. She wanted to kneel before the great
Achilles. She wanted to feel his prodigious cock buried deep inside
her anus. She wanted him to gag her with a rag and pull it back
against her locked jaws. She wanted to feel her chest rising and
falling as she struggled to breathe through flaring nostrils. But
she did nothing. She kept silent. It was his command. She watched
and did nothing.

But the scene
continued to feed her passion. Her lack of physical involvement
infected her mania. She could not hold herself back. She felt it
boiling inside her, sending her into delirium. She drew the leash
loop close into her flesh. She pulled it around her clitoris. She
tightened it. She pulled at it. She felt the pain it delivered, the
anguish it wrought. She rose on it. She tightened her jaw. She
clenched her teeth. She fixed her stare.

It started to
flow. She was drowned by an orgasm so overcoming that were she able
to move she would have collapsed at Achilles' feet. It exploded
within her. She was giddy. Her head spun. Her skin tingled. She
felt hot and she felt cold at the same time. She could see only
Calliope and the sleeping woman, and what was happening to them.
Everything was caught in a whirlwind of confusion. Achilles reared
back and let his semen spew into Calliope's rectum. Eva imagined
its flow, like lava. She watched the sleeping woman, still unaware
of her violation. The man's cock flooded semen into her mouth. It
flowed over her lips. It dribbled on her chin and seeped down her
neck.

The horse's
nostrils boomed with the gasping breaths of Calliope. Its eyes
glowed with the yellow oil lamps in their sockets. The plain of
Troy echoed with the noise of Calliope's ecstasy. The citizens,
safe inside their walls, peered out over their ramparts and
listened to the bellowing beast that lay before them. Its magic
infected them. They were beguiled by it. The order was given to
bring it into the city.

The mighty
gates creaked back on their huge hinges. It took a hundred men to
haul them open. The women, some lying on the ground, some asleep in
each other's arms, were brought back to their feet by the slave
masters. They leant against the rings in the backs of their belts,
tensing the ropes, urging the heavy wheels to turn. Slowly, as the
whips cracked against their naked backs, the huge horse began the
last part of its terrible journey.