Bred by the Spartans (12 page)

“Oh, Apollo, what a fuck,” Theoleon said, in admiration.

“Thank you… thank you,” sobbed Thaleia.

“I’m afraid you’re not done, sweet girl,” said Leontes. Thaleia felt Theoleon withdrawing. She felt empty for a moment, but then, swift as lightning, it seemed to her, there was another enormous cock pounding into her.

“Oh, gods,” she said, and she just kept saying it over and over. She seemed to find bliss over and over, too, screaming out her pleasure in one long cry.

Then Theoleon was there next to her on the bed, caressing her breasts and kissing her, as Leontes continued to do the deeds of Eros at her rear. The pleasure seemed too much, and she felt like she was ascending back to Mount Olympus.

Leontes found his bliss inside her at last, with a shout, and she felt more of the precious seed of the Spartans flow into her. Just as they had said, too, she felt it dripping out and onto the blanket beneath, and her thighs.

“Look at that,” said Leontes, “look how beautiful that little cunt is, Theoleon. Wouldn’t it be nice to make a Spartiate in there?”

“Perhaps we did,” said Theoleon, gravely.

Leontes said, “Remember, Lord Apollo told us we should not resist. What if that’s what they’re going to say at Delphi? What if we get to be the ones to breed her?”

Chapter Twelve

Before daybreak the next morning, they set off again, this time to reach Delphi in the late afternoon. On the road, Leontes and Theoleon entertained their girl with stories of the glory of Sparta. Leontes found that his love for Thaleia—yes, he had to call it that, true love, the love of the family—seemed to grow by the minute. Thoughts of Thaleia in a little house in Sparta, of waking up next to her, with his spear-brother, and going to train with Theoleon, or finding Thaleia there spinning wool when they returned home at evening, occupied his mind almost continually.

He knew Theoleon shared those visions. As they had prepared to journey onward, they had shared a few words, in their laconic way.

“It would be nice…” Leontes had started.

“In Sparta,” Theoleon had finished.

Then they had exchanged one of their looks, and the whole matter had been plain. So now, running into the hills that would become the high valleys around Delphi, they both tried to make Thaleia happy by recounting the deeds of Menelaus and Tyndareus, the old kings, and speaking of the glory to come that they knew from prophecy.

“Sparta will be mighty,” Theoleon said.

“It has been foretold,” Leontes responded.

Thaleia laughed at that. “I am sorry,” she said. “I do not mock you! But, my protectors, you are so very serious, all the time. You are serious about your city most of all. I love Sparta as much as you do, I believe, simply because you love her, and because of her you are so mighty as to guard a poor broken girl.”

“Broken?” asked Theoleon.

Leontes added, “You have not told us your story, sweet Thaleia. We do not wish to grieve you, but perhaps you would like to tell it now.”

“My spear-brothers,” Thaleia said, “I have a very strange tale to tell you, and you may well not believe it.”

Then she told them her strange tale. As she told it, at first she interjected over and over, “You will not believe me” and “I swear it to be true,” but soon she seemed to realize that Leontes and Theoleon trusted her honesty completely, and that they had not the slightest doubt that she was a goddess cast out from Olympus.

“Do you truly believe me?” she asked, with tears in her eyes, when she had finished.

“Of course,” said Leontes. “Did not Lord Apollo send us to your aid? Your tale explains why you are dear to him.”

“But I do not know why I should be,” Thaleia said, “except that Argeia promised she would make it better. And I had a dream…” She told them of the dream of being in Apollo’s sleeping chamber.

“Trust in her, then,” said Theoleon.

Leontes continued, “Apollo has taken pity on her sorrow, and on your plight.”

“Oh, my Spartiates,” Thaleia said tearfully. “I love you. I do not think I knew what real love was, before you came to find me on that road. I am so grateful to the Fates that I have such protectors.”

Then for a moment Thaleia seemed to Leontes to be troubled, as if there were something she wanted to say, but could not. Again he wondered, as he had the day before, whether there was a part of the curse of Eros that she could not say, and that the spear-brothers had not yet guessed.

Again Leontes exchanged a look with Theoleon—the same one they had exchanged when she had asked about them taking her to Sparta. Now, though, after hearing that Thaleia was a broken goddess, the thought of ravishing her in their own little house, night after night, made him once again as hard as a rock, and he knew that the next time they broke their journey, he and Theoleon would have to take her, whether or not they could find a secluded spot to do so.

They could not find a secluded spot, so Thaleia was put on her hands and knees next to the road, and made to do the deeds of Eros. Reluctant as they were to do so, they had given her one of their spare chitons that morning, but now they ripped it off her, so that they could enjoy her charms with their hands and eyes, as well as their cocks.

Leontes had her cunt, and Theoleon her mouth, since Theoleon had been first to enter her cunt the night before. They fucked her violently, at both ends, until they spurted their seed inside her little body. As they did, both Spartans, as if trying to reassure Thaleia that they simply could not help themselves, said “Good girl, sweet girl,” time and time again.

Thaleia, for her part, said “Thank you, sir,” whenever they praised her. She seemed to be floating on a sea of pleasure herself, because, if Leontes could read the signs, she found bliss four times as they took their pleasure inside her. Her eyes were full of tears, but when they had finally both climaxed, and Thaleia had obediently swallowed all Theoleon’s seed, she smiled shyly and sweetly as they stood her up and held her gently between them, and took turns kissing her mouth.

Now that his lust had been sated, Leontes could think more clearly, he found. He said to Thaleia, “Sweet girl, truly the strength of the curse is so great that I fear for you, if ever something should befall my spear-brother and me.”

Thaleia looked at Leontes, and then at Theoleon. Theoleon said, “Indeed.”

Leontes took a dagger from his pack and held it out to Thaleia. “Take it,” he said. “It is always in the same place in my pack, so you know where to find it. I want to show you how to use it.”

Reluctantly and timidly, Thaleia took the little blade. “I… I am not brave,” she said, biting her lower lip charmingly.

“Not true,” said Theoleon.

“Bravery is not what most men and women think it is, Thaleia,” said Leontes. “Bravery is simply doing what is necessary. I believe that you are very brave, from what you have told us.”

Then he and Theoleon showed her a single skill in using the dagger: Thaleia was to set her feet firmly, keeping the dagger behind her back as her assailant came to grab her. Then she was to thrust under the ribcage and into the heart. Leontes showed her the motion, and talked her through the move. Then he took the dagger and gave her a pinecone to hold. While Theoleon reached for her over and over, Leontes talked Thaleia through the move, patiently, the way the best Spartan training masters did.

After she had finally done it correctly five times in a row, Theoleon said, “Enough.”

Thaleia looked at both of them with shining eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I have never felt brave before, my Spartiates, but when two courageous warriors like you think me courageous, everything seems to have changed, and what I knew to be true no longer is.”

Leontes put his arms around her and gave her a long, sweet kiss, while Theoleon got their packs back in order. “Apollo, how I hope we are fortunate enough to bring you back to Sparta,” he said, smiling down at her. “You may have been born on Olympus, but I think you must have been born to be a Spartan mother.”

They reached Delphi just as the sun was touching the steep, craggy hills that lay spread out below them as they stood at the top of the Sacred Way. They had gone first to the Spartan treasury along the way, to check with the Delphian guest-friend who managed the Spartans’ affairs. The man appeared astonished to see two Spartiates on their own, dirty from the road, so far from home, but he seemed even more astonished to see Thaleia.

A little wearily, Leontes said, “Man, if you attempt to have our ward, this sweet girl, we will kill you slowly. Send word to the priest on duty that we have come for an oracle.”

Then they had taken Thaleia away, hoping that perhaps the curse would not linger too long upon the guest-friend.

Now they climbed the steps of the vast, gorgeous temple on whose entrance high above, was carved “Know yourself.” It was exactly as in their dream, except that instead of the golden god descending to them, they ascended to the high priest. Deep inside the temple, down the strange, dark steps that they could glimpse in the sanctuary, they heard the cries they had known they would hear: the cries of the Pythia, the virgin priestess possessed by Lord Apollo.

“What question would you ask?” said the regal-looking high priest, clad in his purple himation and sky blue chiton. He had not, it seemed, noticed Thaleia, for he did not wear the expression that seemed to come over all men’s faces when they saw her. Leontes and Theoleon exchanged a look of surprise.

Theoleon said, “We would know the destiny of this girl.”

The high priest looked at Thaleia, and Leontes thought he saw the hungry look flit across his face, but then vanish again.
Some training, or some wisdom
, he thought, marveling,
allows him to resist
.

Without a word, the high priest turned, and they watched him stride majestically to the stairway and down it. Before he was even out of sight, a wail came up to them from the Pythia down below. “Thaleia… goddess… Thaleia.”

Leontes looked down at their sweet girl, and saw that although the day was hot, she shivered. He put his arm around her.

Theoleon said, “The priest listens to the Pythia, and interprets her cries.”

“Does it take long?” Thaleia asked.

Leontes opened his mouth to say that he had heard that it could take hours, but at that moment, the priest returned up the stairs, as quickly as he could while still looking majestic.

“Do…?” said Theoleon, but the high priest, without delay, intoned in a chant:

Single product of twin Spartan forces, in double saddle of love and lust,

I name your son Monocrates, curse-remover, savior of all Hellas in the twentieth generation.

Leontes and Theoleon fell to their knees. Thaleia, seeing that they had done so, did the same.

The high priest said, “Good Spartan servants of the god, I would stay and be hospitable, but the effort of resisting the curse of Eros upon this beautiful creature exhausts even a man as old as I. And so I bid you farewell, and have good fortune.” He turned and walked away through the sanctuary.

* * *

They stayed that night in the Spartan guesthouse in the town of Delphi. Theoleon had the clever idea of covering Thaleia entirely in a himation so that she could not be seen by any other man as they passed through the town and into the house. They brought her straight to their room, uncovered her, and told her to get on the sleeping couch, on her knees, with her face to the blanket.

“My turn to go first,” said Leontes. “Give me the olive oil.” They had explained to Thaleia on their descent down the Sacred Way that they would discuss the prophecy in full very soon, but that the curse was once again upon them, and it was time for them to do the deed of Eros in her bottom.

Thaleia told them that Zeus had taken her there, at the end of her breaking on Olympus, but that she hadn’t quite been mortal yet, then. She was frightened, she said, because the Spartans’ manhoods seemed to her even bigger than Zeus’.

“You must make up your mind to be an obedient, good girl,” Leontes said. “We will often have you in your bottom from now on.”

Thalea bit her lips, but nodded and obeyed, climbing onto the bed and adopting the submissive pose they had specified, so that her backside was presented to them fully open and ready for fucking.

“Do you want to get it ready?” Leontes asked Theoleon. Thaleia gave a little whimper to be spoken of so coarsely.

“Of course,” said Theoleon. Looking down in rapture at the beautiful sight of the most perfect little rump in the cosmos, he poured olive oil from the little vial on his fingers, and laid those fingers in the valley of Thaleia’s lovely rear.

Leontes stripped off his chiton and held out his hand to his spear-brother, to request oil of his own. With the oil he anointed his rigid cock, and then at last he put the head of that aching member just where he had longed to put it since the first time he had seen Thaleia in the road, covered with the seed of the shepherds.

Thaleia sobbed as she felt his cock pushing against the little ring. Leontes pressed harder, trying not to hurt her, but the need to be inside her pretty bottom came upon him very greatly, when he heard her little cries. He took her hips in his hands and pushed firmly. With a wail of discomfort, his sweet little goddess received him into her bottom, and Leontes began to move inside her, enchanted beyond description at the sight of his cock impaling lovely Thaleia in that most shameful of places.

“How is she?” asked Theoleon, eagerly, as he pumped his own cock in his hand, in erotic sympathy at the sight.

“So… so tight,” Leontes panted, overwhelmed with the pleasure of possessing their girl this way. “Good girl,” he said, “good girl, Thaleia,” he said, stroking her back. “Your bottom feels marvelous on my cock. I’m going to fill you all the way up now, sweet girl.”

Thaleia screamed with mingled pleasure and pain as Leontes’ massive cock entered at full length, and he began in earnest to do the deed of Eros inside her tiny rear. With every thrust he felt her little bottom cheeks against his loins, and he gave a little grunt to feel that he commanded those delicate apples so thoroughly and shamelessly.