by Syra Bond
She shrieked as they crimped her erect flesh, the pain excruciating. The wires pinched her nipples at their base. They clenched them and sent jolts of pain deep into her body. She twisted against the grip of the man who held her wrists. The movement caused her more pain as her nipples stretched from the tips of her aching breasts.
'And now, my lord,' said the first gatekeeper, 'this will bring out the pitiful pauper's ecstasy.' He held up a short dagger. 'I will place my dagger between the wires on this side of her. You, sir, place your dagger in the same way on the opposite side. When you are ready we will turn our daggers and tighten the wires as if we were twisting hemp for a rope.'
They both pushed their daggers between the two wires and then twisted them in opposite directions. Sappho screeched. Everyone watched, everyone saw her pain, her humiliation. She knew her exposure to their stares. She knew her hopeless vulnerability. But there was no chance of her pleasure escaping; the pain was too great, her joy could not find a way out. Her head was spinning giddily. Her ears were buzzing. She seemed to be falling. She felt a trickle of warm urine running down the insides of her thighs. She closed her eyes and was consumed.
Suddenly Eva was by her side, standing by the wires, pushing her own nipples against them.
'I will save you, my dear Sappho,' she whispered hurriedly. 'I will take your place. You can escape. I will wait until you return for me. I know you will. Be ready to go. To go quickly.'
Polydorus' eyes widened as he watched Eva pressing herself against the taut wires. She looked beautiful; proud, her shapely form erect and smooth, her wine-red hair falling in coiled tousles around her shoulders. He was transfixed. He took his dagger from between the wires and so did the gatekeeper. Eva took the wires in her hands and calmly opened them. Sappho moved back, releasing her nipples from the vice of the wires. Tears ran from her eyes. Eva eased her breasts forward. She released the wires and let them close. She showed no sign of pain.
The man holding Sappho's wrists let go. She dropped to the ground and crawled away, between the legs of the crowd. Straight away she was surrounded by a group of beggars and vagabonds. They stood over her, leering, pointing, prodding her with their feet, picking at her with long, dirty fingernails. She tried to get up. She felt so threatened. She had to escape. They pushed her over and she fell on her back, her legs wide, exposing her naked flesh.
A dirty beggar in rags knelt on one side of her and took one of her sore nipples between the rotten stumps of his teeth. He bit and she yelped. Another bit the other one. Sappho wriggled and squirmed, her legs wide, sobbing with pain. She felt a finger inside her vagina, and one in her anus. She opened her mouth to shout out. She felt it held wide as a cock stuffed itself into it. She sucked - she could not stop herself, filled with confusion and fear. She sucked harder, hoping the bulk in her mouth would distract her from the pain in her breasts. Her mouth filled with salty seed. She swallowed the semen.
Suddenly she heard Eva's screams, filling the air, demanding everyone's attention. Sappho felt alone, abandoned as everyone turned. She lay on her back, breathing hard, fearful, expectant. Eva screamed again and Sappho scrambled to her feet. Now she could think of only one thing - escape.
She did not look back as she darted though the unguarded crack in the mighty gates. Her head rang with Eva's continuing screams. Her head was filled with her desperate appeals for mercy. She clasped her hands over her ears to block them out.
She ran along the narrow streets until, at last, she saw the temple of Apollo. She stood before its imposing steps and columns. She gasped with relief. She climbed the steps and stopped at the top. She inhaled deeply. Her nostrils filled with the scent of incense. Her ears rang with the sound of chanting. One voice was raised above the dirge, proclaiming to Apollo, seeking his advice, offering him sacrifice. It was Chryseis - at last.
Chapter 20
The temple of Apollo
The great priest Pelador was dead. Chryseis, his beautiful daughter, was now the priestess of the temple of Apollo. Her power was second only to the king, the ageing Priam, father of brave Hector and his brothers; handsome Paris and cruel Polydorus.
Chryseis stood in front of the huge altar, naked except for the ram's fleece across her back. Her face was painted with daubed flashes of red and yellow. Sappho crept into the back of the temple, unsure what to do. Since Chryseis had been given back to Troy Sappho had thought of nothing else except being with her again. But now, seeing her like this, resplendent before her followers, she was struck with fear and apprehension. Would Chryseis welcome her? She was so powerful now. Would she even recognise her?
Sappho looked down onto the sunken floor of the temple. She stood behind the same statue of Aphrodite she had crouched behind when she'd first seen Chryseis. She squatted, as she had done then, opening her knees, dropping down on her haunches, allowing her sex to open. She watched Chryseis, and without thinking found her hand slipping down to her warm labia. She ran a finger around its soft edges and pressed against the moist, satiny centre. The tip of her finger entered, it took no pressure, her silken flesh simply parted beneath her delicate touch.
Suddenly there was a young man behind her. 'I have found a spy!' he shouted down into the main part of the temple.
He grabbed Sappho roughly and led her down towards the altar. Worshippers gathered around. Some grabbed at her. Some pinched her. Some spat on her. Pulling at her roughly, they brought her before Chryseis.
Sappho stood gasping for breath and shaking with fear. She lowered her head, too afraid to look at Chryseis, thinking only that her escape, her coming back to Troy, had been a terrible mistake. Chryseis reached out and lifted Sappho's chin. Sappho looked up anxiously.
'Bend her over the altar,' said Chryseis. Sappho's stomach churned with panic.
They forced her to kneel and bent her face down onto the cold marble where once before she had been humiliated. Her breasts squashed against its shiny surface. Her nipples hardened against it. Her arms were pulled forward and held by two men in robes. She looked to the side and saw Chryseis parading around her, chanting, holding her arms up high, evoking her gods.
She flung the ram's fleece from her back and draped it over Sappho, its smooth suede lining warming her skin, clinging to it. Chryseis stood behind her, facing away from her, then opening her legs wide, she sat back on Sappho's upturned buttocks. She called one of the young men over. He bent before her, on both knees, and presented his stiff cock. She took hold of it and directed the swollen glans towards her exposed and glistening sex.
Sappho felt the heat of his testicles against her buttocks as he drove his cock deep into Chryseis. She looked to each side. The worshippers were staring at her, watching her. She felt a warped thrill at the realisation of their penetrating glares. Chryseis pushed the man back, again took hold of his cock, and pressed the tip against Sappho's anus. She drew him forward and his slick erection sank deep inside, stretching the muscular ring, and almost immediately semen erupted in a pulsating stream.
Another followed. As the first man's semen still dribbled between Sappho's buttocks Chryseis took the next man's cock from her sex and fed it into Sappho's rectum. It slid in on the silky cream that already filled it and, as it emptied into her Sappho felt herself brimming over with its heavy flow. The next and the next were taken in the same way. Each filled her with their copious stream, each already wet with Chryseis' juices, each throbbing with the delight of Sappho's snug anus. Semen ran down and covered her sex lips. It seeped down the insides of her thighs, gathered in the hollows at the backs of her knees, and dripped in sticky strands onto the floor.
Still more came. Chryseis took every one first, then when they were about to explode each one filled Sappho's bottom with flowing semen.
Chryseis turned around. She lay face forward over the ram's fleece that covered Sappho's back. Now she took the cocks into her own anus. Just before they released their flow they drove into Sappho's vagina and filled her with it. She waited for each one, f
eeling their thrusts in Chryseis' anus, and then their stiff bulk as they pounded into her as deeply as they could.
When it had all finished Sappho lay gasping for breath. Chryseis lay on top of her, panting, her naked body glistening with sweat. She moved her mouth against Sappho's ear and licked her lips before she spoke.
'Dearest Sappho,' she said, her voice trembling with excitement. 'Dearest Sappho, I knew you would come back to me. I have prayed to Apollo. I have wished for it every day.'
Sappho could hardly believe what she was hearing. A wave of relief passed over her. Chryseis got up and took her hand.
'Now, my dear Sappho, you will stand with me as a priestess of Apollo.' Sappho stood up, with the ram's fleece on her back. 'Behold, your new priestess, Sappho!' Chryseis extolled. 'In her honour we will celebrate the buk-ka-ke!'
A roar of excitement went up. Naked girls ran forward and lined up around the altar. More were brought in. Some of them girls Sappho hand seen traded outside the gates to the city.
Young men gathered around a square of patterned tiles near to the altar. They dropped their robes and stood naked. One, with a leather crop in his hand, selected a girl from the line. He swept it down viciously onto the girl's pert buttocks. She squirmed with the sharp pain it delivered and a smudged red line was imprinted where it had fallen. Using the crop he drove her forward until she stood within the circle of naked men. He ordered her to kneel, and when she was on her knees he bound her wrists behind her back with a leather strap.
Sappho watched excitedly as Chryseis stepped forward and held the dagger high in the air.
'See your new priestess, Sappho. She wears the fleece of Apollo. She has shared semen with me, your high priestess. Now you will honour her as you honour me. As you honoured my father before me.'
The girl pulled back her shoulders and tightened her knees together. Sappho could not see her naked slit, only the two beckoning creases where buttocks joined thighs that led into it. The girl's eyes were wide and inviting as she looked up at the men who surrounded her. They held their cocks in their hands; all were stiff, throbbing and veined, all ready to cover her with their semen. The girl opened her mouth. She wanted to take them one by one between her lips, but as she edged forward the crop struck her back and she stayed where she had been placed.
Sappho's mouth felt dry as the first cock deluged the girl with creamy sperm. It spurted onto her nose and cheeks and lips. Another coated her forehead. Still she kept looking up, her eyes wide and appealing. Another streamed onto her brow, from where it dripped from her eyelashes onto her cheek. Two poured their semen onto her shaved head and it ran in two streams down around her ears.
Sappho found her hand seeking her sex. It was wet and silky, still dripping with semen. She had only to press against it slightly to gain entry. Chryseis looked at her. The glance set a shock of pleasure through Sappho. She wanted Chryseis to watch her feeling her cunt. She wanted everyone there to see her. She wanted to bend down and exhibit her buttocks. She wanted to show the soft oval of her labia. She wanted spanking, thrashing. She wanted to be opened up - exhibited, displayed. She wanted the one with the leather crop to drive her into the circle of men.
Once spent the men moved back and more replaced them. The girl was kept where she was. Another drenching followed. She was saturated in semen. It dripped from her chin, ran down her neck and onto her pert breasts. It oozed down her stomach and into the creased wedge that pointed towards her unseen slit.
Sappho pushed a finger into her vagina. She lifted herself on it, opening her legs, turning around, displaying herself, making herself vulnerable to every gaze. Chryseis took hold of her arm. She pulled her hand away and placed it, with the other, by her side. Sappho felt an ache in her sex. Having to hold it back caused her to want more. She stood waiting, hoping, expecting.
Chryseis caught the eye of the man with the crop and he walked over. She nodded to him. She turned her eyes to Sappho, now standing to attention, her hands clasped in fists, her thumbs pointing down and pressed against the sides of her thighs.
The man lifted the crop to shoulder height then brought it down sharply on her buttocks. The sting penetrated her deeply and the shock made her gulp. She flinched. The man brought the crop down again. Sappho swallowed hard as the pain sunk into her buttocks. She knew what she must do. She walked towards the men. With a flick of the crop on her shoulder the man stopped her outside the circle. He beckoned the girl. She crawled out of the circle, semen dripping from her face and breasts. She looked up at him, her doe-eyes framed by sperm, and the man thrashed her buttocks as she crawled past. She stopped at the altar. She waited, still on hands and knees, glistening with the gluey seed that had flowed over her so copiously.
The man brought the crop down again on Sappho's buttocks. She crawled forward into the circle of men, aware that all eyes were on her. She was overwhelmed with her nakedness, her humiliation, and her degrading exposure. She felt her sex lips squeezing between the tops of her thighs as she crawled forward. She lifted her buttocks to meet the crop as it swept down again. A shiver of joy penetrated her. It stiffened her already hard nipples, tightened her throat and made her head spin.
She knelt at the centre of the circle of men. She could feel the heat of their cocks around her. She looked at them, each throbbing and hard, each swollen and directed at her. She pushed her hands behind her, clasping them together. She did not need tying. She squeezed her knees together, pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She opened her mouth, moving the tip of her tongue onto her bottom lip, and waited to be filled.
The first came as a hot stream across her cheek. It stuck to her skin and dripped down to her jaw. She felt a spot on her lip, its salty tang sending shivers of expectation coursing through her trembling body. The next fell on her forehead and ran down into her left eye, blurring her vision. She felt it on her shaved head, running down behind her ear. More splattered into her other eye, and more on the other cheek. Then her mouth was filled by a flood that hit the back of her throat and covered her tongue in a creamy pool. More overflowed onto her chin and down her neck. Her breasts were covered, and a stream ran down her stomach and between her closed thighs. Strands dripped from her erect nipples and reached down to the tops of her thighs. She bathed in it, languished in it, wished for it to continue for ever.
More men came, more semen flowed and still she knelt, still she bathed, still her thirst was not quenched. She was drenched in it, swamped by its stickiness, soaked by the flood of it. She wanted to feel her sex. She wanted to be thrashed and whipped. She wanted to be rolled over and exposed to all who stood around and watched. But she waited for more; obedient, still, needy. She felt the warmth of bliss beginning to boil over. She started to breathe hard, to gasp as it began. Her head started spinning as she rocked forward. She could not help herself. It was too much. She tightened her buttocks and the pressure against the wet flesh of her cunt was enough to release it. She gasped loudly, choking as more semen poured over her. She jerked in a sudden and devastating convulsion, on her knees as it ran through her. She rocked forward and back. Her stomach contracted and tightened. Her breasts rose and fell. Her thighs squeezed against each other. She drowned in it. She suffocated beneath it. She was overcome by it.
When the last man left she slumped forward. She hung back, waiting for the whip on her buttocks, before she moved away. Even when the leather cut across her skin she moved only slowly, delighting in the pain of the harsh blows, not letting them pass without absorbing the delight of every one.
She crawled forward and stopped by the girl who was still waiting by the altar, her buttocks upturned and striped from the leather crop. She waited with her, filled with joy, quivering with the ecstasy of her orgasm.
They remained on all fours as water was sluiced over both of them, washing the semen away, cleansing them, purifying them.
Chryseis touched Sappho on the shoulder. Sappho shivered with delight at the feel of her fingers. Chryseis smiled.
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'Sisters,' she said, helping Sappho to her feet. 'Sisters!' she shouted to the worshippers as she held Sappho's hand and lifted it. 'Sisters of Apollo!'
Sappho and Chryseis lay naked in each other's arms, Sappho kissing Chryseis softly on the neck. A line of naked girls with flowered crowns waited for any instructions the two priestesses of Apollo might wish to give. Sappho beckoned one over. It was the girl who had taken part in the buk-ka-ke with her. She knelt, smiling, waiting, hoping to be allowed to favour her mistress by fulfilling any of her wishes. The others watched, their hands at their sides.
'Bend over,' said Sappho. 'Take my toe into your mouth. I want to feel your lips around it. I want to feel the pressure encircling its base as you suck. I want to feel your spit enveloping it, warming it, lubricating it. And when I feel ready you can lick my cunt. I will let you press your tongue in as deeply as you can. I will let you lap at it. I will let you cover it with your saliva. And then you can lick my anus, slowly, all around it. When I am satisfied I will let you push the tip of your tongue inside. I want to feel you tasting it, lapping at it. I want to feel as if you are completely inside me.'
The girl went down on all fours. Her smooth buttocks described a delectable curve as she bowed her head. She took Sappho's big toe into her mouth. Her cheeks indented as she sucked. Her lips glistened as they tightened around the base.
'Then, when I am ready,' Sappho continued, 'when I feel I need to release my pleasure, I will thrash you. And you will be grateful for the ecstasy of pain I will bestow on you. And even at the height of your suffering, even when you think you are at your limit, you will beg for more and I will reward you with it.'