by Syra Bond
Chapter 21
Humiliation at the walls of Troy
Many new women had been brought into the temple, gathered from the alleys and brothels of the town. One of them was Eva. She stood proudly erect, her tattered clothing hanging in rags from her supple body, her flame-red hair tangled and knotted, hanging over her forehead and sticking to her soiled and dirty cheeks. Chryseis ordered her onto all fours. Eva did as she was told. She waited, her buttocks upturned, her head hung, her hair hanging to the floor. As she was thrashed with a multi-tailed flogger she slowly drooped. Her back bent lower, her elbows collapsed. Young men came forward and began flogging her too. Her buttocks dropped under the weight of pain they inflicted. She slumped flat on the marble floor, her arms stretched out, her legs apart.
On Chryseis' command the beating was stopped. Eva crawled forward, hardly daring to move in case the leather straps were brought down on her buttocks again. She looked up, as if appealing to her own gods. She gaped as she saw Sappho standing above her. She could not believe it. At last, she would be saved. Her heart lifted and she reached out her hand. Sappho bent and took it.
'You are safe. I thank my gods,' she said weakly. 'I waited for you. But you never came. Am I safe at last?'
'You are,' said Sappho, kneeling down beside Eva and waving away the men with the straps in their hands. 'I promised you a reward and I will honour that. But dear Eva, we must wash you first. You are so dirty. Here, come this way.'
Eva tried to get up but winced with pain. 'I cannot...' she started.
'Do not speak. Do not try to get up. Here, follow me. Stay on your hands and knees.' Sappho led her out of the temple into a large square filled with people. 'Go across the square. I will arrange for you to be received and cared for. Dear Eva, you have suffered so much, and I owe my new life to you.'
Chryseis walked up behind Sappho and they watched together as Eva crawled on into the crowd that now surged around her. Suddenly they turned away and looked at each other. They giggled like spoiled girls as, abandoning Eva in the dirty square, they ran back onto the steps of the temple.
Eva looked back, her tearstained face covered in mud and dirt.
'Help me,' she called plaintively. 'Sappho, you said we were like sisters. That you would reward me for helping you escape, for suffering so much. Please.'
Sappho did not reply and Eva suddenly realised what was happening. There was only one place for her to go; back towards the gates.
Sappho and Chryseis laughed and punched each other playfully as Eva, pushed and kicked by the herd of ruffians that surrounded her, crawled pitifully towards the city gates.
As she watched Sappho felt a wave of excitement running through her. The pleasure of seeing Eva on her hands and knees was only enhanced by the excitement caused by her own act of treachery. How misled Eva had been. How she had begged for her bargain to be honoured. How she had been humiliated by Sappho's rejection of her. Sappho felt the moisture of her cunt, knowing she had discovered a new and magnificent way of releasing her joy.
Eva felt the full weight of Sappho's treachery. She had been abandoned, tricked, humiliated. Sappho had never intended to honour her promise, she realised that now. Eva had been living a false hope of returning home. She glanced back at Chryseis and Sappho for one last time. Her stomach filled with anxiety as she soaked up their mockery, contempt and scorn. She crawled on all fours, her tattered rags barely covering her body, her buttocks exposed and heavily striped from the strapping she had received at the hands of Chryseis' servants.
'Open the gates,' shouted Chryseis triumphantly. 'Let the foreign dog crawl out. Perhaps she will find her own way home!'
Sappho watched as the heavy gates of the city creaked open. Eva looked up at the slaves that drew them back on heavy ropes. Several spat down at her. She wanted to shout out for help but she knew it was hopeless. One of the slaves started flailing her across the buttocks. The thin strips of leather wrapped around her thighs and cut into her skin. She tried to duck away. Her legs parted, and as the flail bit again the soft flesh of her labia was stung by it.
Outside the gates dirty beggars leered at her. One of them held his cock and urinated on her. She crawled on and, to the screams of the slaves and the giggling of Chryseis and Sappho, she fell into the hands of a new group of torturers; torturers with no taste for the higher pleasures, only base eagerness for the ugliest delights of all. She felt their greedy hands mauling, pulling at her skin, pinching her nipples, clawing at her sex. A finger penetrated her anus, another her cunt. She tasted semen as it ran down her face. She licked it away and tasted the dust and urine that mixed with it. She swallowed. It ran down her throat and she felt the heat of expectation building inside her. She turned her head and opened her mouth for more, wishing only that the desires of the animals around her would be many and their demands almost too difficult to bear. She looked up and saw Praxis standing before her, with Calliope at his side, and she knew her future held only pain.
Sappho was again behind the pillar set above the sunken floor of the temple of Apollo. She crouched down and pulled her robe up around her waist. She looked down as Chryseis, resplendent in her finery, her breasts bared, her dark hair oiled, her acolytes attending her, naked girls tossing flowers around her feet. She held a dagger above the altar and chanted to her god.
A fresh girl appeared alongside Sappho. She was beautiful, slim and small-breasted. She crouched as well and opened her legs, exposing her delectable slit, its pink lips and glistening, moist centre.
'You are Mistress Sappho, the priestess,' she said nervously.
'I am,' said Sappho.
The girl ran her fingers down to her sex and opened it slightly. Its moisture gleamed.
'Can you help me to be a maiden in the temple?' she asked.
'Yes,' said Sappho. 'Of course.'
Sappho slid her fingers between her own thighs, probing her moistness. She closed her eyes in pleasure as she delved into the entrance. She opened her mouth as she pressed the palm of her hand against the nub of her throbbing clitoris.
She glanced at the girl; her open legs, her glistening sex, her sweet smile. She moved slightly, exposing herself to all who were gathered in the temple. A wave of vulnerability ran through her. She thought again of all that had happened before she had again found safety in Troy. She watched the girl lifting her narrow hips. A jerking shock of ecstasy gripped her and she screamed her joy out loud.
The siege and erotic torments continue...
...in Trojan Whores, also published by us and available to download from numerous online bookstores now...
She groaned and dropped to her knees. She stretched her arms out like the girl, reaching forward as she bowed down and raised her buttocks as high as she could. She wanted her wrists tied in the same way as the girl. She wanted to feel the drying leather thongs tightening. She wanted to experience the pain of captivity, of submission.
As the great Trojan war moves towards its catastrophic end, the beautiful Trojan captives Sappho and Chryseis struggle to survive in the hostile camp of the Greeks. They are the helpless playthings of powerful men who fight each other for the spoils of war.
Praxis and Ajax, Achilles and Polydorus, slave traders and warriors alike, want their share of the plunder from the ruins of Troy. The two slave girls are simply desirable flotsam to be exploited and used by whoever possesses them.
Trojan Whores provides more non-stop erotic action from the pen of Syra Bond.
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