by Syra Bond
Agamemnon entered the camp with Achilles at his side. Their burnished armour gleamed and the crowns of their helmets shone in the late evening sun. Achilles strolled along the line of women, pointing out their beauty and regaling Agamemnon with tales of the adventure which had led to their capture.
He stopped at Sappho.
'This one, my lord Agamemnon, I have chosen for myself. She is delightfully youthful and filled with desires for the pleasures of man. I have watched her throbbing with the heat of ecstasy. Look, even now, after beating and mistreatment, her nipples remain erect.'
Agamemnon looked at her, pinched her nipples between his thumbs and fingers and smiled.
'Achilles, you tell me of this slave as though she is the prize of a king. I wonder why you have not selected her for me. I can see in her flashing eyes the pleasure she could bring to me. Am I to suspect you have chosen the best for yourself, and forsaken the needs of your king?'
'My lord, how could you think such a thing?' Achilles laughed as he moved on to Chryseis. 'This is your prize, sire. A temple maiden. Daughter of the priest, Pelador. Already trained in the arts of pleasure; a necessity for the worship of Apollo, I am told. This is your prize, my lord Agamemnon. The greatest prize of all. I have picked her for you, and now I present her to you as a tribute of my devotion as your faithful servant and general.'
Agamemnon ruled because he was the strongest, the most vicious, the most powerful, and he took Chryseis eagerly as a prize worthy of his status. His guards marched her away, her robe in tatters, her face tearstained and dirty, her hands bound behind her back. The soldiers pulled her by her short dark hair, and as Sappho dropped her head in helpless sympathy, her friend was dragged away.
Chapter 10
Calliope's grudge
Sappho felt empty and alone. Since Chryseis had been dragged away she'd imagined what might happen to her at the hands of Agamemnon. She thought of her suffering and pain, and hoped she could stand it. She hoped she could bear the cruelty and humiliation that would surely be the reward for her beauty and youth. She thought of her in Agamemnon's control, bound and gagged, humiliated and degraded, broken by punishment. She pictured Chryseis' beauty, her dark hair and pale smooth skin. She saw the look on her face as, every time she was unchained from another night of captivity, she was subjected to a new selection of cheapening debasements.
Sappho's reverie was broken by the sudden silence that came with the entrance of Achilles, leader of the Myrmidons, the greatest fighters in the whole of the Greek army. Achilles was moody and fiery. His outbursts of temper were only tolerated by his king because of his unerring courage on the battlefield, and his inspiring and unmatchable skill as a fighter. Everyone stood transfixed, awestruck by the magnificent hero that came amongst them. Achilles eyes blazed with vitality, his tanned flesh glowed, his armour - created by the gods themselves and burnished and polished to a dazzlingly high sheen - fitted his muscular body as if it were a second skin. Behind him Ajax followed closely, and behind Ajax the blind Praxis and an entourage of women, one of whom was Calliope. She was naked, a thin gold chain attached to her clitoral ring ran up to a leather collar at her throat.
Achilles' eyes fell immediately on Sappho. She shivered as he approached and shrank back nervously as he stretched a hand towards her. He turned.
'Ajax, I have not seen my delectable prize since we returned from Troy. I hope she has been looked after well.'
'Praxis, you blind dog,' shouted Ajax. 'Tell my lord Achilles how his prize has been prepared. And be prepared yourself to give a good account, or it will be the worse for you. Remember, I am your master now. You do my bidding as if you were one of these women.'
Praxis moved forward, holding out his hands and feeling his way towards Sappho. He grasped her face and felt around her mouth and eyes. He opened her mouth and probed the insides of her cheeks and the sides and tip of her tongue. He sniffed his fingers, then rubbed his hands across her breasts. He squeezed them before pinching her nipples viciously between thumbs and forefingers. Again he sniffed at her, this time her neck and tawny hair. Suddenly he thrust his fingers between her legs.
'Yes, a fine prize indeed,' he said, leering as he squeezed his fingers roughly between the wet flesh of sex lips. 'And she has responded well to training, my lord Achilles. She has exposed her particular talents keenly. I will show you.'
'Leave her!' boomed Achilles angrily. 'Demonstrate on that one. The woman with the chain through the ring in her slit. Show me how my prize has been tutored to please me. But do not handle her yourself!'
Praxis moved away slowly. Begrudgingly he removed his fingers from Sappho's delectable sex. He paused to sniff them, then beckoned Master Wang to bring Calliope.
Sappho moved back, squeezing her shoulders up as she tried to relieve some strain on her wrists which, every day since she had been captured, had been bound fast behind her back. She wriggled them as much as she could, but the wet leather thongs, freshly secured each morning after the women were fed, had already begun to dry out and tighten.
With a single finger Achilles beckoned her. She was unsure at first, worried that he might be tricking her, fearful of his wrath. She looked sideways, pretending she had not seen his gesture, knowing at the same time that such pretence was pointless. He walked over to her, put his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. He squeezed her cheeks, pursing her lips and forcing down her jaw. He probed between her lips with his fingers, taking the tip of her tongue between them and pulling. She felt the back of her throat tighten and her tongue tingle as it was elongated. Her eyes widened, appealing to him to stop, to let her rest for a while from the torture and humiliation she had been facing every day. He pinched the end of her tongue and released it.
'What a beautiful mouth you have. And a delectable tongue. I am intrigued by it.' He turned away. 'So, Praxis, show me how you have trained my little prize. Let us see the ringed beauty demonstrate my treasure's skills. And keep my prize secure so that she is reminded of what she has been taught. The day will not finish before she has to pleasure me, that is for sure.'
Master Wang, the incongruous oriental amongst these muscular, tanned Greeks, stood Sappho against a post used to secure women until they took their turn for training. He wound a thin cord around her nipples, knotted them in place, then wound them around the post. He drew her up against it so that she was held firm. He checked she could not move and nodded to the blind Praxis, as if he could see and approve.
He dragged Calliope by the arm. Her slim figure, pale in the morning sun, contrasted absurdly with the decorative embroidery of Master Wang's silken green robe and the shiny red of his four-cornered box hat. He pushed at her insistently until she stood exactly where he wanted her. All the time she kept her head lowered so that the chain leading up to her neck retained some free play and did not tug against the ring in her clitoris.
'First, my lord, she is obedient to the whip,' announced Praxis. Master Wang lightly pushed the back of Calliope's head. She understood the instruction straight away and dropped onto all fours. He placed his foot so that she could see it, and tapped his toes on the sand. She hung her head in response and waited obediently. Master Wang held out his hand and the stubby handle of a short, single-tailed leather whip was placed into it.
Sappho watched closely what was happening. She allowed her legs to fall either side of the thick timber post. She squeezed her knees against it. The cord around her erect nipples tightened and pulled.
Praxis moved forward and spoke.
'See how she obeys instructions, never hesitating, always ready, always obedient. This is how your own prize has been trained. This, my lord, is what Praxis can provide like no other.'
He looked around vacantly, not sure where Achilles was standing.
'You are right,' said Achilles, nodding in agreement. 'Your skill at the training of slaves is almost as great as mine is as a warrior.'
Ajax laughed and stamped his foot by Calliope, demanding her attention, as
Master Wang had done. Uncertain, she did nothing.
'Then why does she not respond to me?' he asked angrily.
'There is skill in being a master, my lord,' said Praxis, unthinkingly.
Ajax strutted over to the blind man angrily and pushed him backwards.
'You should be careful of your opinions, Praxis, or your benefactor may quickly turn into your enemy.'
Praxis realised he had spoken thoughtlessly. He quickly regained his balance and looked at where he thought Ajax was standing.
'But it is not a skill you lack, my lord. No. No. It is the girl. She has forgotten some of her training. I can hardly believe it. I will correct it immediately.'
He stumbled over to Master Wang, who took his arm and steered him behind Calliope. The golden chain looped up from the ring in her clitoris, between her rounded breasts and into the clip on the thin collar around her throat. It glinted as it swung slightly in a shallow curve between its two points of attachment. She bit her lip nervously and stared at the ground.
Sappho pressed her breasts closer to the timber post and it eased the pressure on her nipples. She kept her stomach against the post though, and her legs either side of it, then leant back slowly, just enough to restore a bearable tension from the thin cord. The tugging ache on her nipples caused her mouth to gape.
Praxis placed the whip carefully against Calliope's buttocks. Master Wang leant forward and moved it higher, to make sure it was in exactly the right place.
'Now,' announced Praxis, 'when the lord Ajax gives you an order, make sure you follow it!'
He drew the whip back slowly, took it behind his head and held it in the air.
Sappho felt a wave of pleasure surging over her as she anticipated the stroke of the whip. She pulled her thighs tighter against the post, feeling the soft flesh between them opening slightly with the increased pressure.
Praxis brought the whip down quickly, without warning, and it cracked across Calliope's taut buttocks. A single red stripe appeared immediately. She sank forward, gasping loudly with the stinging pain and shock. She was unable to stay where she had been placed. Praxis sensed she had dropped forward and reached the whip to place it against her buttocks again. Calliope had not time to get back up onto her hands and knees and the whip did not meet her buttocks when Praxis expected it. The blind slave trainer looked around angrily, waiting for Master Wang to correct things. His head turned this way and that, hopeless without his aid, unable to act without his assistance.
Sappho thrilled as she saw Calliope sprawling on the ground. She pulled herself upwards against the post. Her slit opened enough for her clitoris to press against the unforgiving timber, its surface rough with knots and eruptions. She pressed her clitoral bud against it. Heat ran through her. She bit her bottom lip, suppressing a dribble that ran from the corner of her mouth. She felt a surge of joyous warmth running between the swollen flesh of her cunt. She squeezed her legs harder against the post. The hot surge of pleasure ran into the dark recesses between her taut buttocks and into her dilating anus.
Aware of Praxis' distress Master Wang slipped his arm beneath Calliope's stomach and pulled her back into place. The golden chain pulled tight as he grasped her, and she pressed her stomach forward to ease the painful strain on her clitoris.
'Get her straight, Wang!' shouted Praxis, anxious not to further inflame Ajax's anger. 'Bring her into position. I must teach her a lesson.'
Wang hoisted Calliope's buttocks high and Sappho saw the oval split of her sex squeezed between them. Sappho pressed her throbbing clitoris harder against the post and licked her lips.
Praxis brought the whip back again and swung it down even more aggressively. The single leather tail swished loudly through the hot air then landed hard against Calliope's upturned buttocks. It cracked loudly and another red stripe appeared on her pale skin. Again she fell forward but this time her elbows bent and she dropped onto her forearms. Her buttocks raised, and before she could do anything Praxis brought the whip down again. Calliope sprawled forward. She fell fully into the sand, her arms stretched out, her legs wide apart.
Ajax kicked sand into her face. 'And still she does not get up!' he shouted, seething with anger. 'Get up! Get up!'
Sappho moved rhythmically against the post, feeling its roughness, the splits and knots. None of its pitted indentation escaped her; she revelled in it all. The heat in her cunt increased, and as she watched Ajax grasp Calliope by the hair and pulled back her head, she felt an overpowering wave of delight deep in the pit of her stomach.
Calliope screamed, as with her head pulled back the chain tightened in the ring through her clitoris. It stretched the throbbing bud more than she could bear. When Ajax saw her pain he pulled her head back even more and stared at her fear-filled face. Praxis stepped forward and stretched his arms out. Ajax thought he was protecting the girl and flew into a rage. He struck out at Praxis and knocked him down. He kicked out viciously at Calliope as she struggled to get away.
Sappho could not stop herself. Her excitement had control of her. She massaged herself rhythmically against the rough post. She pressed, opening her labia, revealing her clitoris to the roughness that was controlling her joy. She stretched her shoulders back, increasing the strain on her nipples, and felt her body jerking with the onset of a convulsion of ecstasy.
'Get up! Get up!' shouted Ajax, as Calliope crawled away in the confusion.
Achilles stepped forward and held him back.
'Now, my lord Ajax, you expend too much energy on a mere girl.' Ajax nodded. 'Even though she has got the better of you!' exclaimed Achilles playfully. He laughed loudly but Ajax, infuriated by the embarrassment, broke from his grasp and kicked out wildly at Calliope. She rolled sideways and gasped for breath. He kicked her again. Achilles held him back, and this time he would not let him go.
'My dearest comrade, Ajax, leave the girl. She is nothing. Look, I will show you the sort of joy I expect from the real thing. My prize!'
Calliope crawled away, her head hung low, her dark eyes filled with hatred and anger. Ajax kicked out at her again but this time she did not shrink away; she turned towards him like a wild animal, trapped and with nowhere further to run. She stared up at him, prepared to fight until the end. He kicked again and she spat at him. She waited, filling her mouth again, hoping he would return her offence so she could attack again. He looked at her and realised she was his enemy. He was a warrior and had seen that look before. He was used to enemies, and to vanquishing them, but this time something in this woman's eyes told him that, for all his strength, she posed a threat. He turned, threw his hands up, laughed with difficulty, and embraced Achilles.
'And look,' said Achilles, amused, 'she is making herself ready!'
They turned and saw Sappho jerking with ecstasy against the timber post. She stopped moving when she saw them looking at her, but her orgasm still flowed. She stood helplessly, her arms stretched behind her back, her hard nipples firmly fixed around the post by the cord, jerking uncontrollably with the heavy convulsions of unstoppable pleasure.
Chapter 11
Sappho's suffering
Achilles ordered Master Wang to untie Sappho from the post. He unwound the cords and tried to pull her away but, still moving herself rhythmically against it, she resisted. She clasped her knees tightly around it as he pulled her. Achilles laughed. He grabbed the cords that hung from her nipples and gave them a sharp tug. Sappho's eyes widened with surprise, as though she had woken from a dream. He pulled again, this time sharper and more forcefully. She realised she could not resist him. She dropped her head and moved at his insistence.
He led Sappho by the cords, pulling her nipples, extending them further, tugging if she showed any signs of holding back. He led her across the shore to his tent - a low structure regaled with banners and surrounded by fine shields and magnificent weapons. Inside the tent it was quiet and cool, its heavy dark cloth protecting it from the noise outside and obscuring the glare and the heat of the punishing
sun.
Ajax came in, and without invitation sat at a chair covered in heavy throws.
'What is it like to be bettered by a woman?' teased Achilles, thinking again of how Calliope had managed to avoid Ajax's instructions. 'She must be a warrior-queen disguised as a humble slave to have the advantage over the mighty Ajax!'
Ajax shrugged resentfully and told a woman slave to bring wine.
'That is not the end of it, I assure you,' he said, producing a leather bag and opening it. 'But there will be time enough for that.' He removed a shiny silver object from the bag. 'Look, my lord, another of Praxis' inventions. I had him have one made for me. Perhaps your prize would enjoy its discipline. It was created by a jeweller to a precise pattern dictated by Praxis. It is an invention born of his years of experience at training slaves.'
'Quite so,' said Achilles, smiling generously. He leant forward and looked at the object. It was like a horse's bit, with two silver rings at each side. From these extended a silver strip about two hands in length. Between the rings were silver pieces, one bending upwards before returning to the other side, one bending downwards. At the centre of the upper piece a further strip extended for about the same length as the two at each side. Near to its joint with the upper bar it split before reforming again into a single piece. Between the upper and lower pieces, and stretching again between the metallic rings on each side, was a clamp with a screw attached on each side. The beautifully crafted creation jingled as he handled it.