Trojan Whores (6 page)

'Ah!'
Polydorus exclaimed. 'What faithful friends you are. This one
prepared to suffer for the sake of the other. How sweet. How
charming my little priestesses are.' He grabbed Sappho's face,
gripping her cheeks with his thumb on one side, his fingers on the
other. 'But, my little priestess, I am the master here. You do not
act unless I command it. You protect your friend only if I order
it.' He pushed her down again. 'I think my little priestesses like
being on the ground. And so I will be kind to them. I will keep
them on all fours. They can follow me like dogs.'

Buckets were
brought and Sappho and Chryseis' wrists were plunged into the
water. Slaves held them there, on their knees, afraid, degraded. A
table was brought and set out nearby. Polydorus had wine and olives
served while he waited. Sappho and Chryseis were kept with their
wrists in the buckets of water. Slowly the leather moistened and
stretched enough to be cut away.

Sappho gasped
as the knife cut the thongs and she felt the relief of release. She
rubbed her wrists, trying to relieve the pain that encircled them.
But neither she nor Chryseis had time to recover. Polydorus threw
down a napkin on the empty table before him. He jumped up and,
without a word, they were manhandled forward on the leashes held by
the obedient slaves.

Polydorus
strutted ahead. Sappho and Chryseis were led behind him on all
fours. If they went too slow their leads were pulled sharply. If
they went too fast they were tugged back with a jerk. Sappho felt
ashamed. How quickly they had fallen. Like angels expelled from
heaven they had descended from the priesthood of Apollo. In the
temple, surrounded by the worshippers, they had been looked up to
by all. Now they were pitiful slaves in the hands of a cruel
master, led on all fours, reviled, mocked and dragged along like
animals.

Polydorus
walked haughtily through the pleasure gardens. Some slave girls
were bathing in one of the pools. They stopped frolicking as he
walked by. They giggled at Sappho and Chryseis as they crawled past
on their leads. Sappho did not look up; she felt too ashamed.

The lowest
pool was the largest. A fountain, assembled from a tower of
crescent-shaped marble bowls, stood at its centre. Women stood on
each tier, their feet at the points of the crescents, urinating
into each other's mouths. Sappho watched them, their mouths wide,
their tongues out, drinking each other's fluid. Polydorus watched
them for a while, then ordered them down. They scrambled to the
ground and stood before him, glistening with water and urine,
panting with excitement, eager for whatever he had planned for
them.

He pointed to
the smallest, a girl with pale skin, her head shaved and with no
pubic hair. She stepped forward and dropped to her knees. She
looked up at him with dark, doe-eyes.

'Master?' she
asked, showing him in that one word that her whole life was
directed towards serving only his needs.

'You may drink
my seed,' he said, opening the front of his robe and exposing his
cock. The shaft was hard and veined, the tip swollen and throbbing.
'Yes, you may drink my essence. Here, take it deep. I do not want
to see any spilt.'

Without a
second thought the girl, still on her knees, turned her back to her
master. She dropped her head back, craning her neck as far as
possible, resting back on her outstretched arms. She opened her
mouth. He stepped forward and placed his cock above her face. She
encircled its tip with eager lips. She held herself there for a
moment, feeling its swollen tip filling her mouth, absorbing its
heat, accommodating its bulk.

Sappho watched
the girl's cheeks indenting as she began sucking. She watched the
shaft slowly entering her mouth. It did not stop. It did not pause.
The stout shank went in, further and further, relentlessly
penetrating the submitting girl, who did not alter her position. As
Polydorus' cock sank deeper Sappho saw her throat thicken, swollen
by the intrusion of the invasive shaft. The girl sucked hard,
swallowing it, not gagging, not resisting in any way.

Sappho felt
her cunt moistening at the sight. She looked from side to side,
wary of the slave who held her leash, frightened by the possible
wrath of her new master, Polydorus. But no one was watching her.
She moved a hand between her legs and slipped her fingers into the
wetness of her vagina. She gasped with pleasure as she felt the
intrusion. She felt moisture on her fingers as she watched the
girl's lips pressing further along the prodigious cock.

Finally
Polydorus' testicles rested against the girl's face. Still she did
not move. He and the girl stayed there for a moment, locked
together, like statues.

Sappho rose up
on her fingers. She pressed her thumb against her clitoris. But it
was not enough. She wanted her mouth filled like the girl. She
wanted to feel the bulk of Polydorus' pulsating cock filling her
throat, plugging her, delving deep into her.

She looked at
the girl's cheeks, still sucking on the cock. She saw her throat,
swollen and full. The girl gulped a long swallowing gulp. It pulled
the cock even deeper. It drew his scrotum tight against the girl's
stretched lips. He reared his head back in ecstasy but did not pull
away. His face tightened as he released his copious flow of fluid
deep inside her. Sappho clawed at her cunt, squeezing her clitoris,
the soft flesh that surrounded it. She watched the girl sucking
every drop of semen from the throbbing cock. She watched her
gulping it hungrily, unable to satisfy her appetite until it was
all drawn out and swallowed.

Polydorus let
his cock empty into the girl, then finally pulled away. Sappho
could not believe the length of the stalk as it emerged, glistening
with saliva and sperm. She could not believe it had all been inside
the girl.

Polydorus
wrapped his robe around his muscular body and strode on. Sappho was
pulled alongside the girl, still resting back on her hands, her
mouth open. Sappho stopped, resisting a yank on her lead. She rose
on her arms and leant across the girl. She looked into her mouth;
pink, soft and fleshy. She saw the glint of semen on her tongue.
Aware of Sappho's closeness the girl poked her tongue out. Sappho
licked with her own tongue inside the girl's mouth. She tasted the
semen - salty and sharp. She sucked it back into her mouth. It was
still warm. She inhaled Polydorus' fragrance. She swallowed it
keenly.

The male slave
who had her on the leash turned and saw what she was doing. He
smirked, and yanked so hard on the leash she choked.

Polydorus
swaggered ahead. He pushed doors open along the walkway, peering
inside, sometimes exclaiming, sometimes shouting orders. Sappho and
Chryseis were dragged behind him. Sappho looked across to Chryseis.
She tried to smile at her friend, to show her that she was keeping
up hope, but the tears in Chryseis' eyes only filled her with more
fear and desperation.

A painful yank
of the lead on her neck told her to pay attention to what Polydorus
was showing them.

'Look, my
priestesses. See the sorts of pleasure available at Polydorus'
house. The aristocrats of Troy are my clients. They know there is
nowhere else in the world where their desires can be met. Even my
sole surviving brother, Paris, patronises my house. And he has the
most beautiful and obliging woman in the world, Helen, as his
companion.'

Sappho was
dragged to an open door. She stopped when the tension on the lead
was slackened; she had already learned to respond to its commands.
She peered inside. A young Nubian woman, slender and tall, sat
bound into heavy wooden stocks. Her ankles were fixed on the outer
edges with brass clamps, her wrists secured inside them, and in the
middle, in a larger hole, her neck was framed by the heavy
timber.

'She did not
please my brother as he expected. She was too slow to respond. She
will stay there for a few more days until she is tried out again.
If she does no better she will return to the stocks.'

He went to the
next door. A woman, her head shaved, was hanging upside down,
secured by her ankles to a hook in the ceiling. Her mouth was
gagged with a large leather ball and firmly secured with thongs
tied behind her head. A huge slave stood next to her, twisting the
rope to ensure she revolved slowly. Another slave held a short whip
and struck her reddened buttocks each time she turned.

'And here,
another miscreant,' said Polydorus. 'She was only expected to take
a whipping in silence. What could have been easier? But she too
failed. She will stay here for a week. She will learn that silence
is easily attained if one is taught the lesson in the right
way.'

Sappho gaped
at the woman, strung up, gagged and beaten. The thought that her
suffering was set to continue for a whole week more made Sappho
shiver. Her breath quickened. The collar was tugged at her neck.
She hung her head. In the corner of her eye she could see the woman
turning on the rope. She heard the smack of the whip against the
woman's buttocks. She felt dazed by the emptiness of the enforced
silence that followed. She dropped her head completely and looked
down at her own nipples. They were throbbing and hard. The collar
was yanked and she moved forward on her knees. She felt the
moisture in her vagina as her flesh was squeezed between her
thighs. A tingling heat spread into her stomach. Her nipples
ached.

Another door
was opened. A red-haired girl with pale skin was tied back over a
revolving wheel. Her body strained against the arching curve,
accentuating the rising mound of her crotch, stretching tightly her
sex lips, flattening her breasts against her chest, exposing the
prominence of her hardened nipples. The wheel turned slowly. The
girl gaped. Her eyes rolled dizzily as on each revolution she tried
to orient herself. A black male slave threw a bucket of water over
her face each time she came into view. She choked and gasped. It
ran down her chin onto her chest. It streamed across her stomach
and ran eagerly into the fleshy valley of her sex. As she was
turned on the wheel the water dripped from her chin, her nose and
her nipples. When she was brought up again more water was thrown
over her.

'How long?'
asked Polydorus.

'Three days,
master,' said the slave.

'Then give her
three days more. Her lesson will be over then.'

He turned to
Sappho and Chryseis. 'Pay attention, my little priestesses of
Apollo. Let these women be a warning to you. Fail Polydorus and
only punishment will follow. Whatever pain you are expected to
suffer in my service will be nothing compared to the pain you must
endure for failing me.'

Sappho's
stomach filled with a rush of nerves. But her anxiety was a mixture
of fear and excitement. She had never seen such things, never
imagined such things. Yet what overcame her trembling body was not
simply the terror of what she might suffer, it was the anticipation
of the pleasure that might accompany it. Her mind was filled with
images of pain and suffering, but at the same time each one
produced a wave of need and delight. Everything was mixed up. Her
sore knees, the tightness of the collar at her neck, her dirty body
and tear-streaked cheeks, all conspired to deliver a sensation of
perverse delight. Every pain, every anxiety, every feeling of
sullied shame filled her with self-disgust. At the same time it
also inflamed in her a desperate need for pleasure and fulfilment.
All she had seen, even though it left her shaking with apprehension
at the thought of the suffering it might bring, also left her
panting with desire for the delights it might hold.

It was dark
when She and Chryseis were thrown into a small stall, used to bed
animals. The floor was bare and cold. There was a drinking bowl on
the floor. It was dark.

'This will be
your home from now on, my little priestesses,' Polydorus called
after them. 'I will have you cleaned up tomorrow. Then we shall put
you to the test. We shall see what pleasures you can bring to my
guests. I have a special one here who I know will be interested in
you. We shall see if you please me or fail me.'

The door was
slammed and they were thrown into darkness.

Sappho reached
out for Chryseis. She touched her face and moved closer, clinging
to her tightly, sobbing and shaking with fear and excitement.

'Dear Sappho,'
said Chryseis, unable to hold back her tears. 'At least we are
together. We will be each other's strength. No matter how bleak our
future seems we must trust in Apollo. He is the only one who can
save us. Sappho, hold me close.'

Sappho ran her
hands across Chryseis' shoulders. They were smooth and shapely,
square and proud. She squeezed them, and felt Chryseis' warm breath
against her cheeks. She let her fingers find their way to Chryseis'
breasts. She encircled their roundness and her erect nipples. She
felt safe, so close to Chryseis. She opened her legs and Chryseis
squeezed a hand between them. Sappho's sex opened at her touch.
Without applying any pressure its moistness allowed the tips of
Chryseis' fingers to penetrate. Sappho moaned and rose up. She
stiffened and held her breath before dropping back, her legs apart
and ready for Chryseis' eager tongue.

Sappho sat up,
her eyes wide. A noise outside had woken her. Chryseis lay by her
side, still asleep, her eyelids dark.

Sappho nudged
her insistently.

'It is
Polydorus! He has returned. Quickly! We must be ready or we will be
punished.'

Sappho helped
Chryseis to her feet. They stood in the darkness, unable to see the
door, frozen with fear at the sound of fast approaching
footsteps.

The heavy iron
bolt was drawn back and the door flung open. Sappho and Chryseis
rubbed their eyes and stumbled back. Sappho peered out of the door
into the light. She could just make out Polydorus descending from
his pony trap.