Trojan Slaves (19 page)

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Authors: Syra Bond

Tags: #historical erotica, #bdsm, #trojan war, #damsel in distress, #master and slave, #sexual slaves

BOOK: Trojan Slaves
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Agamemnon
became agitated. He sat forward in his chair, then sat back. He
picked at his fingernails and ordered slave girls to bring him more
wine. Praxis sensed his king's discomfort, and was desperate to
dispel it.

They had a
crucifix of spears built. The next girl was tied to it with her
arms outspread and her feet bound together. She was whipped across
the breasts and stomach. But it was to no avail. She too soon
dropped her head, simply overcome by the pain delivered by the cane
of Praxis.

They hung the
last girl upside down on the crucifix, facing the spears with her
legs stretched wide on the crossbar. She shrieked loudly as the
cane cut into her buttocks, and spit ran copiously from her mouth.
Praxis caned downwards across her exposed crack, slashing at her
vulnerable flesh. Still, she too faded under the penetrating pain
with no sign of the release of joy that had been promised.

'I do not see
the finesse you have promised, Master Praxis,' said Agamemnon
angrily. 'You waste these young beauties on a simple thrashing. And
now you have none left. It is lucky I am compassionate. I will let
you practise on my new prize. But I warn you, I am not here to be
dissatisfied. And so far that is all I have been.'

They let the
cage down, released Sappho and brought her in. She looked around,
suddenly fearful to find herself out of the confines of the cage
and in the presence of the angry Agamemnon. Master Wang wrapped his
arm around her waist as he had done to the first girl. He held the
cane across her buttocks, levelling it for Praxis so that his aim
would be precise.

Sappho
trembled. The cane felt so thin against her taut skin. She waited
for it to be drawn away, anticipating the swish that would herald
its cutting bite across her buttocks. She tightened them in
anticipation. Praxis pulled the cane back. Sappho bit her lip and
waited.

Suddenly she
jumped as she heard Agamemnon's booming voice.

'The binding,
Master Praxis,' he shouted mockingly. 'You forget your own
recommendation. The camel's toes. The trussing which brings forth
such delights.' He turned to Ajax. 'Such delights as we have not
yet seen. Praxis, you forget your own advice! Has your brain gone
the same way as your sight?'

Praxis pushed
at Wang angrily, keen to transfer the blame for his own negligence
and embarrassment.

'You are
right, lord,' he said falteringly. 'I forgot. My assistant is
trained to remind me. You can be sure he will be punished. But I
promise you, my lord, the true delights are yet to be seen.'

Agamemnon
waved a hand dismissively.

Master Wang
took a thong and wound it tightly around Sappho's waist. She felt
the cutting fineness of it as he pulled it tight. He knotted to it
another in the small of her back. This he fed down between her
buttocks. He let it dangle as he went to her front. She felt it
hanging between her thighs. He reached between her thighs and
pulled it through, bringing it up sharply between her buttocks and
her labia. He prised her sex open with his fingers, wound the thong
once around her prominent clitoris and pulled it into a knot.
Sappho's eyes widened as he worked. A deep burning sensation
entered her body and, as if she imagined she could somehow escape
it, she rose against its pressure. She opened her mouth and
breathed in deeply. Wang tugged at the thong, testing its security,
then wound the free end into the waist a little below her navel,
the knot tightening further around her clitoris.

He pushed her
against two of the girls who were now standing, side by side,
shivering with fear. Sappho's arms draped across each of their
shoulders as she fell forward. She felt the warmth of their breasts
against her own, and the smoothness of their cheeks next to hers.
Their touch was light, their skin soft, pliant and silky. She felt
their shivering bodies. She felt their anxiety.

'It is
unbearable,' one of them whispered in her ear. 'His viciousness is
unbearable. Nothing but pain.' Sappho shuddered at her words.

The trembling
girls were instructed to hold her as Wang brought Praxis behind
her. Again he positioned the cane carefully. He lined it up halfway
down her buttocks and held it there until the blind man was sure of
its position.

Sappho felt
the girls' grip tighten on her arms as the first slashing cut came
down. It stung deeply - a narrow band of burning pain. The second
came down, cutting into her skin. She jumped and opened her mouth.
She heard the swishing of the third before it struck, and when it
did she shrieked. The girls held her tight. They knew what she was
feeling. Sappho shrieked again when the fourth bit, and louder with
the fifth. Each vicious contact made her shriek louder, each slash
preceded even more angst.

She felt
nothing but pain. It spread over her like a raging fire. She heard
Praxis grunting with the effort. She heard Wang encouraging him to
strike harder, more quickly. She gripped the girls' shoulders as
she felt her legs weakening, sagging. Suddenly her knees gave way.
She dropped fully into the girls' arms. She hung limply, panting,
her mouth open, gasping for air.

Praxis was
aware that she had suffered too much. He realised he had failed to
ignite her pleasure, that he had extinguished it with too much
brutality. He felt desperate to redeem himself. He reached forward
and gripped the thong where it disappeared between her buttocks. He
twisted but she barely moved, completely overcome with the pain
that filled her body. She was unable to sense any delights her body
contained. She was unable to detect the joy that now lay buried
beneath her agonised senses.

Praxis stood
staring blindly around, holding the cane uselessly, his face filled
with anger and anxiety. Wang took his arm, but did not lead him
anywhere. He simply held him, shoring him up, as if he needed
assistance to stand.

The girls
released Sappho. She fell to the ground in a heap. She lay face
down and spread-eagled, panting hard. Her buttocks were covered in
the angry red stripes inflicted by the cane.

'So again you
disappoint me, Master Praxis,' said Agamemnon, finally stirring on
his chair. 'Your promises have come to nothing.' He turned. 'And
Ajax, you disappoint me too. I thought you had your slave dog from
Troy much better trained. He is no better as a slave trainer than
he would be as a ship's lookout. Does he not realise he must tease
out pleasure from pain?'

Ajax jumped up
angrily and snatched the cane from Praxis. 'You blind fool!' he
shouted. 'I should have killed you instead of only blinding you.
Here. Give me this. I will show you how to thrash a woman!'

He knelt
behind Sappho and lashed the cane down several times on her
buttocks. She flinched but that was all. The pain had sunk too
deeply for her to feel any more.

Ajax rounded
on Praxis.

'You idiot!
You waste a good woman too. Look, she has nothing left to offer.
You have buried the pleasure she contains. You do not deserve a
position with me. Your reputation is a joke. I will have you driven
out of our camp.'

Sappho started
to crawl away. Ajax saw her and picked up a spear. He held it above
her. She cowered and covered her face with trembling hands. She
thought she had met her end. He threw the spear, barely missing her
head as it went deep into the ground. He pulled her to her feet and
held her in front of him. He was unable to contain his anger. He
shook her mercilessly.

Agamemnon got
up, smiling, and took hold of Ajax's arm.

Ajax slowly
released his grip on Sappho. She dropped to her knees, quaking with
fear.

'This one
shall not cause any more trouble here today,' said Agamemnon.
'Ajax, calm yourself. Come, we will find some other entertainment.
Master Wang, secure this "prize" to Ajax's spear. And cage her when
you leave. Perhaps your Master Praxis will advise you on the
bindings which will best keep her in her place. If he cannot, then
decide yourself.'

He laughed
loudly, and with his arm draping Ajax's shoulders, they both
left.

They had
barely gone before Praxis dropped his head back and roared like a
bull. He struck out in every direction, flailing his arms, knocking
Wang to the ground. He nearly struck Calliope but she managed to
duck away just in time. He sensed her presence, made a grab for her
and managed to seize her by the hair.

'Wang!' he
yelled in frustration. 'Tie this one to the crucifix of spears. I
will teach her a lesson. She shall measure my anger by the level of
her pain. She will suffer for the humiliation that Ajax has brought
on me today. And he will not be free of my vengeance. I promise
that. I have suffered at his hands twice now and that is too much.
Next time it is Ajax who will feel the wrath of Praxis!'

Sappho lay
still and watched as Calliope was bound to the crucifix of spears.
Her lithe body hung to one side, tipping her shapely hips out at an
angle. The pose furrowed the delightful creases at the tops of her
thighs. It squeezed her sex lips and accentuated their fleshy
softness.

Praxis removed
the spear Ajax had thrust into the ground. He felt its length and
the thickness of the shaft. He cocked his head to one side and
sniffed the air. 'Fetch some strips of hide,' he ordered.

Some was
brought and he bound it carefully over the blunt end of the heavy
spear. He held it in place with several turns of thin leather
strapping.

Wang led him
to the bound Calliope. Filled with apprehension she tensed as he
got nearer. He held the leather-covered end of the spear in front
of her face, knowing where it was by the sound of her panting. He
cocked his head to the side and listened again. He sniffed the air
and inhaled deeply.

Sappho watched
as, suddenly, Praxis lowered the spear and thrust it between
Calliope's legs. She reared up on her bonds, but they were too
tight for her to get away. The leather-covered end of the shaft
squeezed between the tops of her thighs. It opened the flesh of her
sex, prising it to each side, exposing the pinkness of its inner
leaves, revealing the glistening wetness of its interior.

Praxis twisted
the spear. She squirmed on it, holding herself away. Sappho could
see though that she was finding it difficult not to give in to the
need to drop onto it, to have it penetrate her more. Praxis turned
the spear as he pushed, and her open mouth and drooping shoulders
betrayed her surrender to its joyous power.

'Ajax will not
make a fool of me again, I swear it,' he ranted as he twisted the
spear and began thrusting it rhythmically into Calliope's vagina.
'And I will not be bettered by any slave!'

He forced the
padded end of the spear into her. She gasped at its bulk and depth
of penetration. The leather covering glistened with her moisture as
he pulled it back, and she gasped again as he forced it deeper. She
fell back onto Agamemnon's mighty chair, her legs wide, her arms
draped on the clawed armrests. Praxis kept thrusting, and with
Calliope against the back of the chair the penetration was even
deeper. She called out, her voice rising and lowering according to
whether the spear was being thrust in or drawn out of her.

'Master
Praxis,' she gasped. 'Master Praxis... I can help you... I can help
you gain revenge... Master Praxis...'

She struggled
for breath. She begged again, more urgently.

'Master
Praxis... I can help you... I have learned of Ajax's greatest
pleasure... I can tell you what it is... He could be weakened by
it... I could tell you... If you set me free... I could tell you,
Master Praxis...'

Sappho, still
on the ground, gripped the thong that led up from between her sex
lips, from its tight encirclement of her engorged clitoris. She
pulled first, testing the pain it brought. She jerked it to see how
much it could inflict. She fixed her eyes on Calliope - her wet
sex, the thrusting spear - and twisted the ligature harder, more
fiercely. But it was Calliope's treachery which excited her just as
much as the sight of her suffering and of her pleasure. She felt a
wave of delight spread over her at the thought of Calliope's
deceit. The idea of such treachery filled her with joy. She had not
experienced the feeling before, and she was elated by it and by its
novelty. She too wanted to deceive, to mislead, to draw someone
into her own trap. She drew the thong higher. The thoughts which
filled her head demanded more pain, more delight, more abuse.

Praxis
suddenly stopped. He held the spear where it was. Its bound leather
end glistened at the entrance to Calliope's fleshy pink sex. He
bent his head forward, breathing hard, licking his lips. He placed
his ear by her mouth and listened as she explained her plan. He
smiled, grabbed the spear again and began thrusting her eagerly,
and this time Calliope's screams were screams of pleasure, of
released joy, of ecstasy.

Sappho pulled
at the thong that gripped her clitoris. She held it so tightly she
began to cry. Tears flowed as, together with Calliope screeching
for mercy and relief, she jerked with a massive jolt of finally
released and joyous rapture.

 

Sappho was
pushed back into the cage. She knelt on its base, bent over, her
buttocks high, her elbows squashed against her breasts, her hands
against her cheeks. As Praxis was led out by Wang she watched
Calliope getting up out of Agamemnon's chair. She was truly
beautiful. She squatted over a bucket and urinated. The shimmering
flow caused Sappho to drool. She tried to reach one of her hands
away from her face, but she was so tightly fixed in the cage it was
impossible to move. She stared at Calliope, her legs bent, her
elbows on her open knees, the golden flow of urine streaming into
the bowl. Sappho trembled as she concentrated on what she saw,
which allowed, at first, a trickle of joy, and then a streaming
flow of unheralded ecstasy. She did not move as it welled over her,
she did not need to. Simply watching the last squirts of urine
splattering into the bowl overpowered her. Silently and without
moving she was completely overcome by the unstoppable flood of an
orgasm born from deep inside her very being. It was what had been
held back by the pain of the caning. It was all that had built up
from her suffering and humiliation in the cage. It was a deluge. It
was complete. She stared at Calliope as it ran through her, tearing
at every part of her. She imagined herself lying on her back, her
face peering up between Calliope's legs. She imagined Calliope's
urine splashing on her cheeks, into her eyes, running into her
nostrils. She opened her mouth, thinking of it being filled. Her
orgasm was renewed. She shivered all over as it took control and
led her into a new paradise of overwhelming rapture.

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