Julie: Stolen by the Gods (Slaves of Olympus Book 1)

by Alan Horn

  People walked into and out of my field of view, reminding me of his order. I started watching the people. I was relieved no one was paying me any attention. Mostly I saw naked women. In my hour on the sidewalk I saw no clothed women. And all the women wore chains. All wore ankle chains, collars, and bracelets. Every woman was belled, not only on their collars but some also had them on their ankles too. It slowly dawned on me that all the women were young and beautiful. Every one of them looked like a model. Every one of them was smiling. And they all had rings dangling from their noses. Most of the rings were silver and the rest were gold.

  I realized I was smiling too. Why was I smiling? I was naked and helpless. Chained to a wall in public. I was crazy. The air was so clean and fresh. I remembered walking on a street in New York before I was taken. The street was filthy, the air stank of car exhaust and unwashed bodies. Here the air smelled of flowers. The fluffy clouds above me were pure white in a brilliant blue sky. This place, wherever it was, was clean.

  After a few minutes a woman with her hands chained behind her stopped and looked at me. She said, “you look unhappy. Are you in pain?”

  “No, mistress. Thank you for asking.”

  “Silly girl, I’m a slave just like you. Don’t you see my collar? You must not call me mistress.”

  “Forgive me, please. This is my first day here and I don’t know anything.”

  She read the tag on my collar and said, “Attas! He is one of the highest. You are super lucky. She lifted her chin so I could read her tag. It said ‘I am Sandra. I belong to Rolf.’ She had a gold nose ring.

  “Nice to meet you Sandra. Thank you for talking to me. How long have you been a slave?”

  “Gosh, I don't know. What year is it?”

  “2015.” You don’t know the year?”

  “We don’t usually know things like that. Curiosity is not appreciated in slavegirls, Julie. Let’s see, I have been a slave for forty four years.”

  “Sandra, you can’t be over twenty five. It’s not possible you’ve been a slave for forty four years.”

  “Julie, this place is weird in so many ways. I have talked to women who have been slaves here since Jesus walked the Earth. We don’t age here. I’ve got to run or I’ll get my fanny warmed.” She leaned forward and kissed me thoroughly.

  I was silent and confused. Immortal slavegirls! I stored all this away for future examination. I went back to people watching. I saw that every female wore a nose ring like mine. Almost all the girls had their hands locked behind them. I never saw a padlock or anything. The cuffs just had a few links of chain between them. Come to think of it, I never saw a lock or key when my hands were being linked or freed. How does that work? Most wore simple backpacks and many had a small pouch hanging from their collar rings. Only the girls accompanying a man had their hands free. All these wore leashes on their nose rings, held, of course, by the men. Most of the leashed women had silver nose rings.

  The men wore quite conventional clothing, mostly pants, sneakers, and short sleeve shirts.

  I switched to watching the traffic in the street. No motors. No horses. Pony girls pulled every carriage and cart. They were trim and well muscled. Their feet wore the same hobbles as all the other women. Must be a department of standards here. They had short boots on their feet. I would like a pair of those. All the ones I saw were pulling their loads via leather corsets strapped around their waists. The drivers controlled them with bit, bridle, and reins. One stopped right in front of me and I saw the bit had an extension in her mouth to hold her tongue down and deny her speech. They had blinders and colored plumes on their bridles.

  A man stopped and looked me over. "Lift your chin."

  My head snapped back and turned to my left. I didn't do that. Shit, could every man here command my body? My lust started up again and went into high gear. I tried to straighten my head, but it wouldn't move. God. This made me feel way more helpless than these damned chains I wore. I hope Attas returns soon.

  "Relax."

  I could move my head again. My arousal kept climbing. What was it? Pheromones?

  "Attas has made a good choice. You are quite good for a New York girl."

  How did he know I was from New York. Could they read my mind too? "Thank you, Master."

  He was leading a slavegirl on a nose leash. Her hands were free. Her ring was gold. She spoke, "Master, may I taste her?"

  "Go ahead. Julie, spread your knees apart."

  My ankles jerked apart to the end of my hobble. My knees spread as wide as possible. I was just a puppet and he had my strings.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  She kissed me softly. I hadn't expected this. Her hands roamed over my erogenous zones. On hand played with my breasts and nipples while the other explored my pussy. She was highly skilled. I was panting in moments and my body writhed under her touch.

  She pulled her tongue back and whispered, "don't talk to anyone with a silver nose ring. Don't trust them. Your life is at stake." She started the kiss again.

  I was near to a climax when she knelt in front of me and started licking and sucking my cunt. I screamed my pleasure as I came. She had pulled back at just the right time and all my love juices ran down my still spread thighs.

  She stood up and as I moaned, said, "I enjoyed that almost as much as you did, Julie. Please tell Attas that Patricia sends her love."

  The man said, "Tell Attas that Jason congratulates him on his choice of slaves."

  "Yes, Master," I mumbled, still barely able to think.

  I watched the crowd again. I noticed that maybe half of the women with backpacks had something in them.

  I noticed something odd. Many of the women were exchanging signals with their fingers. Of course I only saw women with silver rings doing this. The men holding their leashes didn't see this because the women were behind them. The women only did this when the men had passed each other and couldn't see them. It looked a little like sign language, but I didn't know enough to read what they said. It was probably a simpler set of signals since long exchanges were precluded. I had heard of slave's sign languages in Rome long ago.

  I wonder if this is connected to Patricia's warning? I wonder what our ring color means? I remembered the saying, 'Knowledge is Power.' I realized it was true. I knew almost nothing and was completely out of my depth. I wanted to talk to someone who knew more than I did. It looked like I could only talk to other slaves with gold nose rings or my master. What a choice. My master didn't want me to know anything and I had no chance to talk to any gold-ringed slave. I only saw silver rings. Shit.

  Attas was standing in front of me again. He unlocked me from the ring. Then he clipped a long leather leash to my nose ring and locked the trailing end of my chain to the front of my collar. “ Close your eyes.”

  My eyes closed before I could respond. I said, “Yes, Master.” I was again mightily aroused. It was all I could do not to fall to the ground and kiss his feet. I needed him so much.

  “Open your eyes.”

  They flew open and I saw we were standing in a large room. It had a huge window looking over a big garden sloping down to a broad expanse of sapphire water. I hadn't felt or heard a thing. Were these men Gods or aliens? They looked human and their male equipment worked just fine. But their mind control ability and apparently teleport were superhuman. I wouldn't be surprised if they could fly and lift mountains.

  He led me to a chair and unlocked my hands. I left them crossed behind me. I was so tamed. He sat down and said, “kneel In my presence unless ordered otherwise.”

  I gladly knelt before him and waited. I looked into his eyes. They were a brilliant blue. They were mesmerizing. I couldn’t look away. If I could speak, I would beg him to take me. I never needed anything so much. But I was speechless. Held in thrall by my subjugation. I was truly his slave and we both knew it. How wonderful it was to be a woman at his feet.

  “Tell me about the people you saw, Julie.”

  “Yes, Master. I saw many
more women than men. They were all dressed in western fashion. They would have looked at home in New York. Well, except for the women with them. One of them said he was called 'Jason' and he told me to convey his congratulations on your choice of slaves. I think he meant me, Master.”

  “What about those women?”

  “Master, the men were all leading naked women on leashes. And all the women were collared and had ankle chains. They would not fit in New York. The one with Jason asked me to give you her love. She said her name was Patricia.”

  "Interesting. Did she say anything else?

  "No Master. She made me climax in the street. Jason gave her permission to play with me."

  "I'll have to thank Jason when I see him. What did you think about the leashed women?”

  “Master, at first, I was ashamed for them. After a while I saw they were all happy. They were smiling and had a joyful spring in their step. They strutted on their leashes. They were showing off for the other slaves. They were proud they were with their Masters. Then I began to envy them. If you lead me like that, I will strut too.”

  "What else did you notice about the leashed women?"

  "Master, I noticed that only women on leashes had the use of their hands. I also saw leashed women sometimes exchanged hand signs when no one else could see them. But only those with silver nose rings. Is our ring color important?"

  He took something out of his pocket and held it out to me. It looked like one of those spring clips I used to hold a wad of paper together in the office.

  "Take this and put it on your left nipple. Leave it there until I tell you to remove it. Questions earn you punishment."

  My right hand took the clip and squeezed the handles until it was wide open. I saw that instead of the smooth surface I was used to, this one had stubby serrations. It would hurt. I held it over my nipple and relaxed my grip. The pain was sharp and unbearable. I gasped and my body flinched. My traitorous hand returned to its mate behind my back.

  I had earned my punishment. I had broken a rule. "Thank you master for correcting me. I am sorry." If anything, my lust grew greater. I wanted him to take me.

  "Do you remember any hand signs?"

  I thought about it. I remembered two. "Yes, Master, may I show you?

  "No, I can see them in your mind. Think about when you saw them. Don't say anything. I'll watch."

  The pain in my nipple had turned into a dull burning sensation. I had trouble thinking about the women. After a quiet moment he changed the subject.

  “What about the other women. What do you think about them?”

  “Master, they were all slaves. I saw no women without chains. I guess that all women here are slaves and all men are masters. At first , again, I was sorry for them. After a little, I saw that they all were happy, too. At home most women are unhappy and spend a lot of time and money on therapy. Everyone here seems joyous. I envied them too.”

  “We keep our women helpless. They are seldom allowed to do anything by themselves and seem to like it, as you have observed."

  “Julie, every woman here is the property of a man because of trust. Here, men can see into the hearts of women. We keep you on short leashes because we see your hearts are full of love, ambition, and treachery. Your chains allow you to explore the depths of love and prohibit inevitable treachery. We don't trust women because we know your minds."

  I was sure this was not true. I wasn't like that. Was I? I have always been ambitious. I wasn't above using my normal feminine skills to win arguments or assignments. That wasn't treachery, was it? I wanted to protest, but I was unsure of my grounds. If these men could read women's minds, how could they be wrong? Was it a matter of degree? How could I convince him? I couldn't speak unless I got permission first. "Master, may I speak?"

  "No. Not yet. First I have some questions for you. Tell me about your parents."

  Master, my father died when I was young. I don't remember him at all. My mother is alive and well. She is a college instructor in Troy, New York."

  "Describe her."

  "Master, she is tall and slim with a good figure. Everyone mistakes her for my sister. She is quite youthful in actions and behavior. She was a wonderful mother. Her skin is fair like mine. She is much more intelligent than a teacher needs to be. She just loves teaching young minds."

  "Does she ever speak of your father?"

  "Not much, Master. I'm sure she is still in love with him. She describes him as a large, strong man with tremendous integrity. She has never found anyone to replace him. Although she always has hopeful men approaching her. I'm afraid my father spoiled her for other men. He set a high standard and she will not accept less."

  "Yes, I'm sure that's the case."

  What was that about. Why did he want to know about her? He sounded like he may have known my father. What is going on here? Am I here because of my mother or father?

  "I’m sure you have seen and felt some of the more unusual facets of this place. Do not ask questions. Anything we want you to know we will tell you. Here, woman and slave are synonymous. You will go back to Cotys to finish your training. You will probably like it. Then you will return here. Stand up. Take the clip off and give it to me."

  I stood and opened the clip. I almost dropped it as the blood rushed painfully back into my nipple.

  "Thank you, Master, for correcting me. I'm sorry I broke a rule."

  He locked my hands behind me. He led me to a bedroom and turned me to face him. My eyes weren't as high as his shoulder. I'm 5'10" ,so he must be almost 7' tall. He was twice as wide as me and had large muscles. He could throw me across the room if he wanted. Instead he picked me up and kissed me. I was engulfed in his arms and dwarfed by his assurance and presence. He was tremendous in every way imaginable. picked me up like I was weightless. He lay me on my back on the bed and said, "lift your knees and place your feet tight against your ass." He pushed my ankle chain into my fingers and said, "hold that." I felt my fingers curl around the chain all by themselves.

  "Spread your knees wide."

  He sat on the bed beside me and played with my breasts . He kneaded them and rolled my nipples between his fingers. He was gentle, but as my nipples hardened , they were right on the edge of pain. He took one hand to my loins and started stroking my labia. They swelled instantly and soon were spreading themselves in invitation. He stroked my inner lips and I was soon panting my need. My belly spasmed over and over and my love juices flowed into my needy lips.

  "Master, please take me. I need you in me. Please Master. Take me, I beg you."

  He slapped my pussy, hard with his huge hand. I climaxed as soon as his hand landed. I bucked and screamed, "YES. Oh yes, Master." I moaned my pleasure and he kept rubbing, stimulating me. I was so helpless in his grip. I couldn't move any way except to spasm and buck in my passion. I was a tightly chained ball of heat rapidly growing hotter. His hands were merciless and so effective.

  I climaxed again. I was lost in my heat. I had no control. Master played me like an instrument. I squealed, I pled, I writhed under his hands. I couldn't stop climaxing. Finally, he climbed on me and thrust his gigantic member into me. I was wonderfully stretched and filled. He pumped a few times, each one driving me higher until we came together. His hot sperm flooding into me in the greatest ecstasy I had ever known. I screamed with joy and love and fainted.

  I awoke on my back on the concrete in my cell, helplessly chained but without that damned hood. I could see. My God. I could still see. I remembered my fantastic time with my Master. My heart filled with joy and love and submission. I was truly his property. I would do anything he wanted. I thought back over my experiences. That fantastic orgasm or series of orgasms before I fainted. I had never dreamed of such pleasure. He was a master. Not just my master, but he was a master at lovemaking . Or, the thought occurred to me, a master of women. He could control my body with a voice command. He could apparently teleport himself and me, at least to New York. Although I wasn't sure that was a distance.


  I had no idea what else he could do, but I was glad I was his. Already I loved him and I loved submitting to his will. I was a little tender. I stood and walked to the end of my tether. It stopped me with finality. It was far stronger than needed to hold a girl. Master had freed my hands. I didn't know what to do with them. When my tether halted my walk, I had to feel my collar. It was smooth and hard. I realized it wasn't punishment. It was a facility every slavegirl needed. Its fit was snug and perfect. It conformed to every curve of my neck. I tried to turn it but found my neck was not round and it wouldn't budge. My master had fit me with perfection. I took it as a sign, not of craftsmanship, but of perfect knowledge of everything about me. I felt cherished and I felt the heat rising in my belly. I sat on the floor near my attaching ring. I daydreamed about my Mistress and my Master

  My dreams were delicious. My hands drifted to my pussy. My slavery was like a narcotic fantasy. Every thought was real and nothing impossible. I lived vividly in the moment. The future did not matter since a slavegirl could not influence it. Why take it seriously? My life was not my own. It belonged to my Master, and I longed to obey. I savored my submission. I was tamed, broken to heel. Memories of my former life were fast dissolving under the rising tide of my subjugation. I felt so free in my chains. No obligations and no worries remained in me. I awaited my orders.

  I realized I had never seen my mistress. I looked forward to a true meeting. I knew she would continue my training and I would feel her whip. This didn't matter so much any more. I felt a bond with this woman who had showed me I could reach joy through pain. I would never again be so frightened of pain.

  I hope Mistress shows up soon. I'm hungry and dirty and I want to get my training over with as soon as I can. I want to be with Attas as soon as possible.

  Finally, Mistress appeared. She was naked and wore slave chains like mine. Her hands were free and she had a whip hanging from a leather belt. She was an amazon. Over 6' tall, tanned, Raven hair, great body and a regal bearing. She fed me and took me into the bath. When I was spotless, inside and out, she took me into a carpeted room and locked my chain to a floor ring.