Authors: Syra Bond
Tags: #historical erotica, #bdsm, #sex slaves, #trojan war, #damsel in distress, #master and slave
The women
dragged it to the centre of the city's main square. There it sat
silently, its eyes glowing in the dawn light. The women were
unclipped from the ropes and carried away by citizens eager to
taste the delights of Greek slaves. The slave masters were
themselves driven back outside the gates, the inhabitants of Troy
fearful that they might be impossible to control, or that they
might bring disorder to their wonderful city. The slave masters
gathered outside the walls, refusing to leave until spears finally
drove them back onto the great plain.
The sun rose.
The heat burned down on the horse's expansive carcass. Shimmering
swirls curled up from its back as it baked in the relentless heat
of the day. Citizens of Troy came out to view the great statue.
Some poked at it, some hung back fearful of its size and
overbearing majesty. Some discussed what to do with it. Some even
said it was a trick and should be taken back outside the city.
Polydorus rode up to it on his ornate trap. His pony-girls reared
back and whined as they approached, and even though he lashed their
buttocks with his whip he could not get them to go any closer.
As dusk came
the horse was surrounded by a large crowd, but as darkness
encroached they left it silent and unwatched in the middle of the
empty square.
Guards stood on
the walls looking down onto the silent wooden horse.
Polydorus
drove his trap into the square. He had been with his brother,
Paris, who had criticised him for being too soft with his
pony-girls so he'd driven them in a fury. He galloped them through
the streets and tight alleys. He thrashed them relentlessly with
his whip. He yanked their reins, brutally pulling back the silver
bits in their clenched teeth.
The beautiful
pony-girls were covered in sweat and gasping for breath. They
reared back and whinnied when they saw the mighty wooden horse.
Polydorus pulled back on the reins and brought them abruptly to a
halt. They slipped on the dusty ground, barely managing to keep
their balance. The trap pushed forward and the breachings pressed
against their buttocks. Their plumed headdresses glittered in the
light from the torches placed in the ground around the great horse.
Their sweating bodies glistened, their leather bridles and chest
harnesses flashed. The thongs attached to their waistbands pulled
tightly between their thighs.
Dust flew up
into Polydorus' face. He coughed and choked. He jumped down from
the trap, his face red with anger. He cracked his whip in time with
his furious cries. 'Halt! Halt! Halt!' he screeched. 'You have
embarrassed me once tonight. I will tolerate no more insolence from
you! My brother is right. I am too lenient. I am too kind!' The two
pony-girls bowed their heads. Their heavy headdresses - one yellow,
one red - described two wide curves in the flickering torchlight.
They were exhausted. They could not calm down. They had been
overrun and now were startled by the shock of seeing the ominous
horse.
Polydorus
grabbed both their bridles. He tugged angrily. They reared back,
frightened by his outburst, hurt by the bits between their teeth.
He pulled them back, intolerant of their seeming defiance,
unconcerned about their pain and anxiety.
'You defy me
once too often!' he screeched.
He drew their
heads down. Their headdresses tipped forward heavily.
'On your
knees! On your knees! On your knees!'
He pulled on
the bridles. The trap moved forward. The shafts tipped. The extra
weight made the terrified pony-girls gasp. Polydorus struggled to
keep his grip on them. They started to panic. He shook them, trying
to steady them, trying to bring them under control. They both
whinnied and twisted. Each pulled against the other, each further
startled by the movements of the other. They moved backwards and
forwards. The shafts of the trap reared up and down. They were
lifted off the ground as the trap tipped back, then bent over by
the weight that bore down on them as it tipped forward. Polydorus
grasped the ends of the shafts. He held onto the silver balls that
crowned the curved hooks at the shafts' ends. He dropped his weight
on them in a desperate effort to curb the trap's frantic bouncing,
but could not control it. The two females were seized by a frenzy
of fear and confusion. He tried to release them. He struggled with
the rings on the back of their chest harnesses. He could not free
them; the traces had become tangled in the shafts. He tried to pull
the reins from their bridles. They had twisted around the backs of
their heads and he could not untangle them. They both became
hysterical.
Polydorus took
out his knife and cut through some of the tangled traces. The girl
with the yellow headdress fell forward, a tight knot of leather
strapping still wrapping her in coils. The sudden movement of
freedom frightened her more. She was driven into a giddy state of
uncontrollable fear. Polydorus cut frantically at the other traces.
He sheered them all, but the girl in the red headdress was so
entangled in them, and they were so tightly twisted, that still she
remained enmeshed in its snaking whorls. She threw herself about
wildly. She thrashed from side to side. Suddenly the trap twisted
up on one wheel and threatened to tip over. It pulled forward and
trapped itself in the opening to a narrow alley that led from the
square. Polydorus could not move it. The pony-girls began to
scream.
He looked
around for help. There was no one else in the square. He looked up
onto the ramparts of the mighty walls. He saw the guards staring
down.
'I need help!'
he shouted. 'Come down here and help your lord, Polydorus!'
The guards
looked at each other in consternation.
'My lord, we
dare not. We are commanded to guard the city. We cannot leave our
post for fear of our lives.'
Polydorus
struggled with the bucking trap.
'Only King
Priam and the gods themselves dare speak against your lord
Polydorus. I order you to my aid. Do not incur my wrath. The
outcome of defiance would be more than you dare imagine. Come down
from the walls at once! Here! To my aid! To Polydorus' aid!'
The frightened
guards hurried along the ramparts and climbed down the steep stone
steps to the ground. They ran across the square into the neck of
the narrow alley.
Eva watched
through a crack in the boards of the horse's flank as the guards
ran over to Polydorus. The sight of the pony-girls' panic inflamed
her. The constriction of the tangled leather traces around their
bodies, the tightness of the twisted reins around their heads, sent
shivers of excitement through her tense body. She tightened her
hold on the loop of Calliope's leash. She pulled against the collar
around Calliope's neck. She could feel Calliope's rapid breathing
through the taut leash. She pulled it tighter. She could feel the
beating of Calliope's heart. She pushed her knee against Calliope's
slender waist. She could feel the blood racing in Calliope's
veins.
Eva pressed
her face against the crack in the timbers and stared at the plight
of the terrified pony-girls.
'Lord
Polydorus, what can we do?'
'These defiant
ponies have let me down. I invest in their training. I feed them
and give them warm dry bedding. They feed from silver bowls. They
are washed down and oiled each day. Look at their finery. Look at
their beauty. But my kindness is wasted. That is the problem. I am
too kind and wrestle with my conscience. I try to act with virtue.
I am benevolence itself. But kindness does not lead to obedience.
It is a sorry tale. I must punish them. They must learn that
serving Polydorus is their only aim in life. They must learn not to
take advantage of his kindness. It breaks my heart to do so but it
is the only way.'
'Yes, lord.
What can we do?'
'Bind them to
the shafts. I want them to feel the pain of disobedience. I want
them to know why they are being punished. I want them to suffer
from the thing they need to serve. It is the trap itself that will
form the framework of their punishment. And they will know who
makes this demand upon them. It is the hand of Polydorus that will
wield the tool of their suffering. Lift the first one. Bring her
here. And hold the other. Do not let either of them free from the
bonds that entwine them. The feel of the leather will remind them
of their duty. They will learn to obey the reins that now encircle
them. I will teach them that their response to the tension of the
leather traces is what I demand. That their aim in life is to serve
Polydorus, and nothing else. Here! Here!'
The guards
took hold of the one with the yellow headdress. She pulled back in
fear, unused to being handled by anyone except Polydorus, fearful
of their grasping hands, their closeness.
Eva saw the
look of panic on her face. She pressed her knee harder against
Calliope's waist and tightened the lead in her hand.
'Tie her to
the shaft. She will know the thing she has to serve before she
knows the hand she must obey.'
They lifted
the beautiful woman up. Her eyes were wide with terror. She had
never been treated so roughly. The knotted reins were still tangled
around her head. Several of them were pulled tightly across her
face. One of them was stretched between her teeth. It dug into the
sides of her mouth and indented her cheeks before running behind
her head. Several pieces of the cut trace still led from the ring
at the back of her chest harness. Two of them had become twisted
and wrapped themselves around her breasts. The twists they plaited
were tightened around one of her nipples, squeezing it agonisingly
between their twining strands.
The guards
held her above one of the shafts, face down, her head towards the
trap, her buttocks towards the silver ball which topped off the
curled hook at the end.
'Lace her to
it!' shouted Polydorus. 'And make it tight. I do not want to see
her able even to squirm. She will not avoid my punishment in any
way.'
They placed
her over the shaft. Her arms and legs hung down. Her face,
contorted in the mesh of tangled leather, rested hard against the
timber shaft. Her buttocks were high, taut and beautifully curved.
The delightful oval of her sex, split by the delicious crack at its
centre, no more than a hand's distance from the large silver ball
that surmounted the bent hook.
Eva caressed
Calliope. She ran her fingers down from her shoulders, into the
curved dip of her back, and up onto her toned buttocks. She fondled
them both, allowing her fingers to rest at their centre, before
widening her stroke out across Calliope's right hip and down the
side of her right thigh. Calliope moaned slightly, then started
purring.
Eva stared
through the crack in the timber boarding. She watched the guards
strapping the pony-girl onto the shaft of the ornate trap. They
drew some of the loose ends of the traces around her chest. They
pulled her arms up until she was grasping the shaft as she would a
lover. They tied her thighs together so that the shaft was pinioned
between the tops of her thighs. Her cunt pressed against it so that
the crack at the centre was forced open.
'And now the
other. They disobey as a pair. They shall suffer and learn as a
pair!'
The one with
the red headdress was still tangled to the traces that led to the
trap. Her elbows were bound tightly at her back. Her hands thrashed
about in panic. The guards pulled at her but could not free her.
Seized with terror she twisted and turned against their grasping
hands. She screamed out. One of them tried to cover her mouth with
his palm. She bit him. He lashed out at her angrily. She kicked at
him in blind panic.
'See how they
act!' screamed Polydorus. 'That is how they bite my hand. The hand
that feeds them. The hand that cares for them. Cut her free! Lash
her to the shaft like her ally in this war of defiance they wage
against me.'
The guard she
had bitten took a knife from his belt. He held it in front of her
face. She shrank back, frightened by the sight of the flashing
metal. He let the blade dip towards her breasts. He held its point
against her left nipple. She froze with fear. He pressed the sharp
tip against the throbbing flesh. She winced with the pain. She bit
her lip in anguish. She held her breath, but she could not stop her
breasts rising and falling, and as they did, from one pressing
rhythmically against the foreboding weapon.
Eva manoeuvred
Calliope around so that her face was between her legs. Calliope
looked up, her eyes wide, her pupils large and black. Eva pulled on
the lead. Calliope opened her mouth and poked her tongue out. It
was wet and full, its fleshy tip seeking the moist fruit which was
so close.
The guard
pulled the knife down onto the tangle of traces which wrapped
around the woman's chest. He sliced the first.
Eva pulled
Calliope's face closer. Calliope urged her tongue forward.
The guard
sliced another of the bonding leather lashes. The woman twisted,
fearful where the blade might go next. The leather trace fell
free.
Eva pulled the
leash tighter. Calliope's tongue licked out keenly, following the
sweet aroma of Eva's beckoning flesh. Calliope dropped back against
the lead, allowing it to tighten against the collar at her neck.
She stared at the object of her desire - Eva's glistening cunt.
The guard
sliced through the next trace. The woman fell back free. Others
grabbed her. Even though she fought against them they quickly tied
her onto the other shaft. Both of them lay, tightly bound and
straddling the shafts, their faces pressed down against the wooden
beam, their raised buttocks poised above the silver balls on the
ornate hooks.