Bred by the Spartans (10 page)

Apollo laughed. “So Eros got you, too, with that curse?”

Zeus frowned in response. “Yes, I think he did. I can’t get that nymph out of my mind. I was going to have the sister, to take my mind off it, but I overheard her make her plea, and you grant it.”

“As was my right,” Apollo added quickly, deciding not to make his usual tired objection to his father’s constant eavesdropping.

“Yes,” Zeus said. “I do not dispute it. But, as to my question…”

“Yes,” Apollo said, “she could return.”

* * *

Apollo found Argeia where she was supposed to be, upon his sleeping couch with her lovely backside turned up exactly as he liked it best. He was not sure he had ever had a nymph as delectable as Argeia with whom to play. Something about the vestiges of her innocence always made his cock stand up at the mere thought of teaching her new delights and new, shameful things that she must do to give to her divine lover, and to receive from him, the pleasure of Eros.

The god of light thought about the pleasure he had promised himself for tonight: to have Argeia’s virgin bottom, and had to shift his golden chiton a bit to avoid tenting the fabric with his hard cock. He sat upon the edge of the bed, as he always did, and he looked. The pleasure he found in the sight of his little nymph’s backside, of the slight curve of her hip, at her raven hair on the pillow behind her, was very great.

“Argeia,” Apollo said softly, delighted that already she knew that he did not wish to hear her voice until he should call it forth from her.

“Yes, lord?” she said, not turning her head but simply allowing Apollo to look, and look, and take his fill of the lovely sight.

Apollo put his hand possessively on her bottom. “I shall have you here tonight.”

“Oh, Lord Apollo! I…” she replied. “I am…”

“It frightens you, my girl,” Apollo said. “I know it.” He stroked her just where her thighs met her luscious bottom cheeks. He worked his middle finger between those firm apples. “It will hurt,” he said, simply.

She gave a little whimper in response.

“But to know that you are pleasing me so much will make the pain different from other kinds of pain.”

“Oh, my lord…” Apollo’s fingers probed now between her thighs, to find her secret furrow and rouse her there.

“Over on your front, now,” he said. Argeia complied, and Apollo put a special pillow, very firm and shaped to make a mound above while it lay flat below, upon the sleeping couch, under her hips. The god moved her down the sleeping couch at the same time so that when the moment came, he could stand at the foot of the couch and thrust hard. She still had not turned her face to him, and the god felt a thrill at the knowledge that Argeia already understood by instinct the erotic lesson he wanted to give her. Apollo said, “The workings of sight, in the deeds of Eros, can be strange, my dear. When I am in your bottom, it is important to me that I know that your face is turned away and downward.”

He took the little vial of divine oil that always stood on a table next to his bed, and tipped some of it onto his fingers. Languidly, enjoying the sensation of Argeia’s rear tightness and the sound of her tiny moans at what he did, Apollo began to prepare her little ring for his enjoyment. First his fingertip, then the finger itself, to the first knuckle, to the second.

“When I have you here with my cock,” the god said, “I master you. Your submission to my mastery makes of you a sweet, beautiful toy, given over to my pleasure, and it pleases me above all things to know that my new toy has no will of her own except to be pleasurable for me.”

Apollo got up and placed his feet on either side of Argeia’s knees. It was the god’s favorite way to ride a bottom, because it seemed to him to convey in the mute language of Eros precisely the lesson of mastery that he now gave Argeia in words. He put the head of his rigid cock right at the little ring and began just to lean into her. Argeia responded with a tiny, gratifying cry of dismay.

“I do not wish to see your face, Argeia,” Apollo continued, as he patiently pressed into her bottom’s delicious tightness.

He pushed harder, and Argeia cried out.

“When you at last yield yourself to the cock, as you must, I mean you to feel how having a god’s cock in your backside makes you his tight, lovely bottom—there for his pleasure and for him to ride.”

With a sob, she yielded, and Apollo surged into her bottom with a gasp of pleasure of his own.

“Now,” he said as he began to move gently in and out, holding her hips firmly down against the pillow so that she would feel how thoroughly he mastered her, and so that he would have a nicely placed bottom for thrusting, “I will enjoy you in silence for a time.”

Apollo did just that, as Argeia made the noises of a nymph whose backside is being well ridden. The noises delighted him as much as the delightful tightness of her bottom did. He thrust easily in and out, to his heart’s content, and Argeia could only receive his cock in her littlest hole as many times as he wanted to thrust there.

After long minutes of having her thus, the god withdrew, finding that although his plan was not to find bliss that night, he was close to a powerful climax. “You will stay there, Argeia,” he said, “for I will use your bottom again before long. You will feel the effects of my power there tomorrow, I fear, but that is precisely as I wish it. Tonight you will learn the meaning of my mastery, and I will have your bottom several times before you are allowed to sleep.”

He sent for Calliope, and told her to pleasure Argeia as he watched. “Yes, lord,” said Calliope, and she pulled a seat up to the bed and bent her head forward.

“This, Argeia, is another of my favorite sights,” he told her, as she cried out under the Muse’s knowing tongue. He went to Argeia’s side, and, kneeling by the sleeping couch, turned her face to him and began to kiss her, as he saw in her eyes her complete submission to his will, as she cried out her climax into the divine mouth that covered hers passionately.

When Argeia had found bliss, Apollo dismissed Calliope, and, still kneeling next to her, stroked her hair and said, “Thank you, sweet Argeia. You please me greatly. Tomorrow, I shall make a hero inside your womb. Will you like that?”

“Oh, lord… yes…” The yearning in Argeia’s voice stirred him so much that he wanted to return to her bottom on the instant, but Apollo had a piece of news to deliver that he hoped would please his lovely new leman.

“Today,” he murmured as he stroked her cheek, “as I passed over the earth, I saw your sister rescued by the Spartans.”

“Truly, lord?” Argeia asked.

“Truly, my dear. Although they could not help enjoying her, I saw how grateful she was, and how happy, as they set off together for Delphi.”

“Oh, my lord Apollo, thank you. Will you tell me, someday, of her destiny?”

“I will, sweet girl. Perhaps tomorrow even, if you please me.”

He could brook no more delay, but returned to her bottom and entered there again, terribly aroused at the thought of the way he would fill Argeia with a fine son, when the circle of the day came round again and brought him back to the charms of her lovely little body.

Once he’d had another long session in Argeia’s backside, he summoned Calliope again. The Muse helped the girl down off the pillow, and took her to relieve herself upon the marble seat in the warm moonlit privy behind the palace. While Argeia occupied herself thus, Calliope said to Apollo, “Lord, will you make a hero in Argeia?”

“Yes, indeed. And you shall make the singers sing of him.”

“What will distinguish him?” Calliope’s tone held a very professional note; inspiring singers with tales of the distinctions of the heroes occupied her time and talent every day.

“He will be a faithful cousin and brother-in-arms,” Apollo said, “to a greater hero.”

“Ah,” said Calliope, with a hint of disappointment.

“Together, though,” Apollo said with a smile, “they will do great deeds.”

Chapter Eleven

Thaleia rode upon the back first of Theoleon and then of Leontes, well into the night.

The Spartans ran with speed and endurance that, like their endowments between their thighs, reminded Thaleia of the gods. As they ran, they told Thaleia of the story of the dream they’d had from Apollo. Though they continued their pace unabated as they told the story, they did not seem to be out of breath. Thaleia had never imagined that such mortal men existed.

“And so we awoke,” said Leontes, “and dressed, and departed.”

“Indeed,” said Theoleon.

“And,” continued Leontes, “we are taking you to Delphi, so that you can learn your destiny, and we can help you fulfill it.”

With leather thongs, the Spartans had bound her hands around the chest of whichever warrior’s back she rode upon, and her ankles around his waist—not tightly, but so it required no strength of hers to cling to him. Thus she did not have to worry about falling off, and now she was glad of it, for she was very tired. She nestled closely into Theoleon’s back and laid her cheek against his strong neck.

As Thaleia drifted off to sleep, thus, feeling her strong Spartan moving powerfully under her, between her legs and inside her embrace, though in a way that had nothing immediately of the deeds of Eros about it, she thought again of Argeia, and wondered whether her sister’s pain grew less as the days went by. She murmured, “Do not be sad, sweet Argeia,” and fell asleep.

She dreamt—immediately she fell asleep, or so it seemed—that she was back on Olympus, but in a place she had never been: the sleeping chamber of Apollo’s palace. There she saw Argeia, her bottom raised and Apollo thrusting into it in a manner that took Thaleia’s breath away with shock and arousal. She saw the Muse Calliope standing just outside the chamber, also watching. She saw Argeia biting her lips in passionate discomfort at the way the god enjoyed her. She saw the god’s mighty cock, taking Argeia over and over as Zeus had done to Thaleia.

Then, suddenly, unlike Zeus, Apollo withdrew, and stood there at the foot of his sleeping couch, panting. Then he said, “Argeia, your sister is here.”

“What, lord?” Argeia said, wildly. Thaleia could see that she wanted to turn around, but was stopping herself from doing so, perhaps because Apollo had told her not to. Thaleia, sure that it was merely a dream, and that she could do nothing, simply stood there.

“You may come and sit on the side of the couch and speak to her. You will not be able to see her, and she may not speak, for she may not be here on Olympus in visible or audible form, but I will be able to tell you what she is thinking.”

Argeia did as the god had bid, and Thaleia looked into her sister’s face, grateful despite the strangeness of the manner, for the sight of her.

“Thaleia is grateful that I have brought her here in her dream. She loves you, Argeia,” said the god.

“I love you, too,” whispered Argeia, her eyes desperately trying to find Thaleia, but in vain. “Are you alright?”

Thaleia looked at Apollo, but it seemed even the god could not see her, but only feel her presence.
Yes!
she thought.
I have my Spartans, because of you!

“Thaleia is very much alright, and she wants to thank you for asking for my help. She loves her Spartans already, and she knows that you sent them.”

Argeia smiled. “I love you, Thaleia,” she said.

“Say goodbye now,” said Apollo. “Thaleia is about to wake, I think.”

“Goodbye,” said Argeia.

Goodbye,
thought Thaleia, and then she woke and found herself again upon Theoleon’s strong back.

She heard the spear-brothers talking to one another as they continued their run.

“Chastise first,” Theoleon was saying. He was not out of breath, but Thaleia had already learned that he never said more than he must to make his point.

“To let her know what is in store if she doesn’t obey us completely,” Leontes continued, as if the two were speaking with a single mouth that voiced words from a single mind.

“Together.”

“But, Theoleon,” said Leontes, “it still leaves the problem.”

What were they talking about?

“Cast lots,” Theoleon said.

“Agreed,” replied Leontes. “And the other one gets the bottom, right?”

“Punish her there?”

“Oh, definitely. She needs a taste of real Spartan discipline.”

“You’ll plug the bottom and have it,” Theoleon said.

“If her cunt falls to you,” finished Leontes.

Listening to them was like a dream that was somehow both a nightmare and a lovely fantasy, it seemed to Thaleia. These astonishing Spartan warriors wanted her body so much that they were negotiating for her charms separately. The thought made her wet with desire, but at the same time the shame of it nearly overwhelmed her as well. For an Olympian goddess to be parceled out to the cocks of mortal men seemed a dishonor she could never have conceived before she had chosen to be broken there in Zeus’ palace.

Though she had been taken now by so many men in so many ways, only Zeus had taken her bottom. Now it was to be assigned by lot, to one of these warriors to be enjoyed here in the lands of men for the first time. She felt her body quiver with the shame of it, and yet at the same time she felt again the curse of Eros. If she could only speak of these matters, she would fall on her knees and beg them to divide her up between them and do the deeds of Eros with her in every lewd way they could imagine.

“What hour is it?” she asked, to let them know she was awake.

“You are awake,” Leontes said. “That is good. I will shift you to my back for the final part of our journey.”

“Of course,” Thaleia said.

They stopped their course and set her down, and they all drank some water from the Spartans’ waterskins.

“Where are we bound?” Thaleia asked.

“Spartan guest-friend, outside Megara, for the night,” Theoleon said.

“You must expect,” Leontes said gravely, “that we will have you there in that house. We cannot wait. Even just now, running while you slept, we talked of ravishing you by the side of the road. So as soon as we reach the house of the guest-friend, we will make you do the deeds of Eros.”