Trojan Whores (10 page)

Calliope
watched Eva as her body rose and fell. She watched her squirming,
her face buried into Praxis' groin. She saw her thighs opening,
revealing her glistening crack. She watched the breathless swelling
of her breasts. She saw the strands of her fiery hair sticking
sweatily to her drawn cheeks. She snatched viciously at the lead in
her hand. It snapped against Weena's neck. Weena cried out weakly.
She could do nothing to satisfy her mistress's command. She could
not respond to her mistress's orders. She hung on the lead,
transfixed, gripped with fear and inaction. She wanted to save
herself from pain, but she did not know what to do to achieve her
aim. She was frozen in the dizzying confusion of her
hopelessness.

Eva drank
Praxis' semen. She closed her eyes and let it flow into her. As his
cock began to beat less strongly she pulled back a little,
swallowed heavily and let him draw out. She took a long slow
breath. She looked up at him, his empty eye sockets staring ahead
into incessant darkness. 'That is all I need, sire. To serve you.
To have Calliope to call my slave. To bring you vengeance against
your enemy, Ajax.'

Again Calliope
forced Weena's face down against the slave's dirty foot. Eva held
the flaccid cock, massaging it, licking it. She watched Calliope
calling for a cane and forcing Weena to bend over a bench. She
licked it more as she watched Calliope bringing the cane down
repeatedly on Weena's buttocks. She watched Weena flinching with
shock, with pain, crying out with fear and suffering. Eva drew her
tongue along the soft flesh as Weena was turned over on her back
and caned across her small breasts. Eva watched the red lines
appearing on the suffering girl's pale skin. She licked harder as
Weena cried for mercy.

Calliope
punished the helpless girl relentlessly. Eva felt her own cunt
heating with excitement as she witnessed the torment before her.
She had suffered so much herself. She knew what the pain of a
beating felt like. She understood the empty feeling of humiliation
at the hand of a dominant. She knew the confusion of inaction
brought about by suffering too much to be able to please. That
knowledge only increased her excitement. Each stroke of the cane
inflamed her more than the one before. Each red line that appeared
on the girl's skin hardened Eva's nipples, made them ache, made
them throb, made them feel as though they too were being beaten by
the cane. She cradled his heavy testicles in her hands, weighing
them, squeezing them, toying with them.

Calliope had
water fetched in buckets and thrown over Weena. It splashed against
her, first between her legs, then her face and breasts. Weena had
to be held down. She squirmed so much and she was so wet that once
she escaped her captor's clutches. They caught her and tied her
wrists together to prevent her fighting against them. But after her
outburst her strength was exhausted and she was easily subdued. She
was held by the shoulders and forced face down against the slave's
feet again. Water ran across her back. It glistened on her shaved
head and dripped down her cheeks and off her nose.

Praxis sat up
but did not move Eva away. She again eased her mouth around his
cock and felt it hardening against her eager tongue. She stared at
the helpless Weena and pressed her hand down between her own legs.
Her swollen sex opened at her touch. She ran her fingers along it,
prising it apart, feeling its warmth, its heat, its need.

Calliope's
anger increased. She grabbed Weena by the ears and dragged her to
her feet. She spat on the girl's face and spread it over her cheeks
and eyes with her hands. She screamed at her and again forced her
to her knees and commanded her to clean the slave's feet with her
tongue.

Weena fell to
the side exhausted. Her small frame shivering, her breasts rising
and falling with panting breaths. The young male slave shuffled his
feet uncomfortably. He was unable to hold himself back any longer.
He had seen Weena before, even exchanged glances with her. He had
hoped they would be put to serve together, that someday he would be
able to talk to her. He could not bear to see her suffering any
more. He bent to help her up. He knew it was wrong, but he could
not stop himself.

Calliope
exploded. She screeched at the top of her voice. She pushed the
young man back angrily. She kicked Weena. She took the cane again
and thrashed at them both in a torrent of uncontrollable fury. The
young man fell back whimpering, realising his mistake.

Praxis
suddenly jumped to his feet. He knocked Eva aside, his temples
throbbing with anger, his cock glistening with Eva's saliva.

'Calliope! You
have let me down. Even a poor weak slave betters you. If you wish
to stay in my service you will have to suffer some training
yourself. From this moment you will be the slave of Eva.'

Eva grinned
broadly. She could hardly believe what had happened. Calliope set
her jaw. She dropped the cane and squeezed her eyes shut.

'And do not
expect any special favours from me until you learn better,' he
said. 'I will ask for daily reports on you. From now on your future
relies on your new mistress.'

He turned
towards the moaning youth who had tried to help Weena. 'And take
this young slave I hear whining for mercy to the brazen bull. I
shall listen out for its song. Yes, feed him to the brazen bull. I
will soon hear if the beast is pleased with its feast.'

Eva stood up
and walked to Calliope, who looked to Praxis. His face was fixed.
There was no sign of mercy on it. She dropped to her knees and
allowed the collar to be placed around her neck. She looked up as
it was tightened, and her snarl turned to a grin as she responded
to Eva's tug on the lead.

Eva sat on the
chair next to Praxis. She held Calliope proudly on the lead.
Calliope knelt by her side. Eva listened to the slave's pleas for
mercy. She imagined him struggling against his captors. The picture
she had in her mind of his straining muscles sent waves of
excitement through her. She imagined how he had been overpowered,
how he had not the strength to fight against his persecutors. She
pictured his sweating face. She imagined the veins bulging on his
forehead, his eyes wide with fear, his mouth agape. She heard his
continuous, despairing screams. She cocked her head and listened as
his voice became an echo - a hollow, ethereal cry of hopelessness,
a distant counterpart of the man he had been.

She followed
what was happening in her mind. She saw him being pushed, still
fighting, inside the bronze beast. She heard his muffled cries
being stifled. She heard the heavy thud as the door in the side was
slammed shut. She listened to the bolt being closed as his begging
was finally and completely shut in. Then she heard the crackling of
the fire as it was lit beneath the statue. She cupped a hand behind
an ear as she listened to the first gasps of anger as the brazen
beast released its furious cry.

'Listen to the
bull, master,' said Wang excitedly as he ran into the tent. 'It is
truly infuriated. It glows with heat and calls out to the gods to
save it. Hear its cries. It is as though they come from hell
itself.'

Praxis cocked
his head to the side. The poor young slave's cries filled the tent.
Praxis sniffed the air, smelling the heated bronze, the flames of
the fire beneath the brazen bull, the aroma of the slave inside its
inflamed carcass.

Eva felt the
warmth of Calliope's body against her leg. She thrilled at the
thought of her waiting at the end of the leash for instructions
from her new mistress. But the excitement that filled her body was
produced not by the captive Calliope, but by the suffering of the
slave she could not even see. Her head was full of the roaring of
the brazen bull. Her ears rang with it. Her head pounded. Her mind
was a panic of thunder and lightning and images of hell from which
the beast had been born. Her whole body quivered to its song. Its
clamouring bellows overpowered her. She was a victim to its fury.
Herself a slave of its savage power.

Eva tugged
Calliope's lead. She pulled Calliope's head between her open
thighs. Calliope smiled and opened her mouth. Eva pulled her
closer. Calliope's tongue reached out from between wet lips. Eva
drew her in until the tip touched her wet, waiting sex. Calliope
licked. Eva opened to the warm contact. She pressed forward onto
Calliope's tongue, allowing it to reach inside and lick the soft
wet interior of her waiting, needy flesh.

Eva dropped
her head back in ecstasy. Calliope pressed harder. Eva felt the
tongue lapping inside her. She felt its tip searching out the
deepest parts of her flesh. She felt her clitoris swelling against
it, throbbing to the rhythm of Calliope's tongue as it moved to the
tempo of her own desire.

Eva pulled
harder on the leash, tightening the collar, bringing Calliope in
closer. She felt Calliope's cheeks against the insides of her
thighs, the heat of her face against her skin. She saw a slave
standing with the cane Calliope had used to beat Weena. She
motioned to him. He moved closer. Eva nodded. He lifted the cane
behind his shoulder. He waited for her instruction, for her
command. She held back for a moment, savouring the control she had
over him, and the sway she had over Calliope's pain.

She nodded. He
brought the cane down quickly. It struck Calliope's smooth buttocks
with a sharp, cutting snap. Calliope tried to rear back, to act in
response to the sudden shocking pain. Eva held the leash and
Calliope could not move. Eva gasped as she felt the shock passing
through Calliope's body. She felt the thrills of excitement surging
through her as she realised she had Calliope under her control. She
shivered as she saw she could restrain her, hold her close against
her cunt, prevent her even from rearing back from the pain Eva
herself was responsible for inflicting.

The cane came
down again; another slicing cut as it fell against Calliope's
exposed buttocks. Again the shock, the suddenness, the penetrating
pain. Again Calliope reared back against the restraining collar.
Again she was held in place, forced to stay with her face buried
between Eva's thighs, her tongue lapping inside Eva's tight
channel.

The cane
struck repeatedly. Each shock of pain it brought was a demand for
Calliope to rear back. Each tensing response from its victim was a
reason for Eva to hold the leash that much tighter, to restrain her
captive that much more.

Eva closed her
eyes as she felt the rush of oncoming ecstasy. The slave held the
cane above his head, waiting for the next command.

'Do not stop
until I tell you.'

She held
Calliope in place. She kept her thighs firmly around Calliope's
head. The leash pulled tightly against the collar at her neck. Each
blow of the cane brought more thrills, increased the pressure of
her building joy. Each prevented reaction from Calliope brought the
resolution to Eva's effort that much closer.

Eva opened her
mouth and gasped as it finally flowed. She held the leash and
groaned, jerking, panting, listening to the cracking cane, the
stinging blows against Calliope's upturned buttocks. Eva screamed
as it ended; a final rush, a final clenching of pressure inside her
quivering body. She fell back listening to the sound of her gasping
breaths. Then, like an accompanying orchestra, the cries of the
brazen bull came back into her head. Its angry bellows were still
issuing from its fiery nostrils. It filled her again and she reared
up, drawing the leash tight as another wave of ecstasy surged
through her.

Finally she
relaxed the strain on the lead. Calliope did not pull back. She
stayed where she was, licking the moisture from Eva's sex. She
purred, pushing herself against Eva's thighs, wallowing in the joy
her mistress had succumbed to, drinking from its source, quenching
the thirst she had for her own satisfaction. Calliope was a willing
pet.

Sappho held her
hands up to her eyes as the doors to her cell were opened. For a
moment she was confused, she did not know where she was.

Blinking
against the dazzling light of the sun outside she saw again the
women in lion skins being chased by the men, themselves covered in
the skins of beasts. She felt the thrill it had aroused in her. She
saw again Chryseis cowering beneath the ferocious whipping
Polydorus had given her. She saw again Chryseis' reddened buttocks.
Her stomach filled with nerves as she realised her friend had been
taken away from her, and that she was alone.

'Bring her
out!' shouted a guard. 'Polydorus wants to see her. And he is
impatient.'

A hand grabbed
Sappho's arm and pulled her to her feet. Another forced itself
between her thighs. She felt a silky line of moisture on her sex
lips, and she felt it being squeezed onto the probing fingers.

'Quickly,
bring her!' shouted the guard. 'She has seen enough pleasure from
us, and she did not even wake. Quickly, our master will be furious
if we keep him waiting.'

Sappho
stumbled forward. She ran her own hand down her stomach and between
her thighs. Her fingers slipped. She took her hand away and held it
against her nostrils. She smelled the aroma of semen on her
fingers.

'Yes, come my
sleeping beauty,' urged the guard, 'your master is waiting.'

They pulled
her into the bright sunlight. She wiped her bleary eyes. She
inhaled the musky aroma. She realised what had happened. Even as
she slept she had not been safe from the attentions of her
guards.

She saw
Polydorus standing between his pony girls. He fed them titbits from
his upturned hand. They nuzzled against him, pushing gently at each
other for a position closer to their master. He stroked them as
they fed. He ran his free hand down their backs and across their
rounded buttocks. Their plumed headdresses shimmered in the
sunlight. Their leather harnesses gleamed. Their slightly sweaty
skin glistened. Their eyes burned bright with enthusiasm to serve
their master.