For the Pleasure of Men

by Nora Weaving

  Damianos rolled onto his elbows so he could look at her.

  “I can only think of you,” he admitted. “As I work during the day, my thoughts drift to you. As I meet with business partners, and land owners, all I can think about is coming to you at night.”

  Kalliope gave him a lazy smile. This strange relationship with him was unlike anything she had ever known. She had always had rules about getting too attached to customers, even though she had crushed on a few, but she had broken every rule for Damianos.

  “I can’t come to you every night, but I want to come to you as many nights as I can. Is that alright?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her heart skipping a beat.

  “I have more money than I know what to do with. I will give you anything you want. That is why I wanted you in this beautiful room. I know you have some gowns coming, but I want to order you more. You deserve the finest gifts.’’

  Kalliope nodded tentatively. “Why are you doing all of this?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

  Damianos looked away. “Because you make me feel something that I thought was long dead inside me.”

  Overcome with emotion, and feeling marvelously well fucked, Kalliope leaned in and kissed Damianos. He kissed her back and then pulled her to him.

  “Let’s clean you up,” he said, leading her to the wash area.

  Kalliope let him bathe her and then they curled up in her sitting room, they ate fruit and cheese, and talked about their lives. The conversation was mostly one-sided, Damianos seemed to keep his past well guarded and redirected her questions back at her.

  After many hours passed, Damianos helped Kalliope dress in one of her sleep gowns.

  “Priska knows that I am to be your only client tonight,” he clarified. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”

  Kalliope curled across Damianos’ warm chest, and gently drifted off to sleep, her body sore in the best possible way.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  * * * * *

  “I guess you had a good night,” Elektra teased at breakfast the following morning.

  Kalliope blushed, and stuffed another cherry into her mouth. The women had noticed that she'd been missing for most of the night. Though, she knew it wasn’t completely unusual for some women to spend their entire night with a regular. Usually, it was the more popular women who had this privilege.

  “I wish I had a regular like Damianos,” Harmonia sighed, “I was left to fuck one of the fattest men in Athens last night.” She made a face and Kalliope giggled.

  “Melina once had the most handsome regular,” Elektra said, her eyes taking on a far-away dreamy look. “He came to her at least three times a week, and they always stayed holed up in her room.”

  “What happened?” Kalliope asked. She had been around long enough now to know that Melina didn’t have any clients like that.

  Elektra shrugged. “Dead. Killed in battle, I think.”

  Horrified, Kalliope shook her head. She had only known Damianos a short time, but she knew her world would be shattered if he disappeared from her life.

  “Nice story,” Harmonia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  After breakfast, Harmonia came back to Kalliope’s suite so she could see it furnished. The women lay around talking, discussing some of Harmonia’s clients.

  Priska entered the room, and both girls sat up quickly.

  “A package,” Priska said dryly, placing the brown-paper wrapped package on the table. She looked around the room, shook her head and left.

  “I don’t know why she doesn’t like me,” Kalliope muttered.

  Harmonia scoffed. “She doesn’t like most of us. And she probably doesn’t like you because you bring in so much business and she wasn’t the one to discover you, she can't take credit.”

  Kalliope nodded distractedly, and began untying the package strings.

  “Damianos is too good to me,” she said quietly. It had been less than twelve hours since she had seen him, and here was a package. Harmonia watched curiously and enviously as Kalliope peeled the paper away.

  Both women gasped.

  An obscenely large ruby necklace sat on top of a silk peplos of a deep midnight blue.

  “Kalliope! That’s ridiculous!” Harmonia whispered.

  “I know,” she murmured, pulling the necklace out. “It’s strange though,” she said, handling the heavy necklace. “It doesn’t strike me as Damianos’ taste.”

  Harmonia laughed. “His taste is expensive. And these gifts are just that.”

  Kalliope twisted her wrist to her face, looking over the delicate emerald bracelet that was both tasteful and elegant. The ruby necklace was so large that it bordered on gaudy.

  “I guess,” Kalliope said. She placed the necklace down and handled the dark peplos. It was certainly sexy, but there was also something forbidden about the dark garment. As she held out the peplos, a piece of parchment fluttered onto the bed.

  Kalliope picked it up and read it.

  “What is it?” Harmonia asked quickly. “You’re so pale!”

  Kalliope didn’t speak, but only passed the note to Harmonia.

  Dear Kalliope,

  I have thought of you every night. Here are two gifts that I have handpicked, and I hope they convey my desire for you. I find nothing more erotic than seeing red and dark blue across your skin.

  Yours, Spyro

  “He’s twisted,” Kalliope whispered.

  “Well, what do you think he means?” Harmonia asked weakly, but both women had gotten the implied meaning of “red and dark blue” across her skin. He wasn’t referring to the gifts.

  “Blood and bruises, and you know it,” Kalliope snapped, jumping off the bed and gathering the items and the note.

  “What are you doing?” Harmonia asked worriedly.

  “Going to find Priska!”

  Kalliope hurried out of the room. “Priska?” she shouted in the hallways, not caring if she was being disrespectful.

  Some of the women popped out of their rooms, curious as to what was happening.

  “Priska!” she yelled again, hurrying down the hall.

  “What is going on?” Priska hissed, rushing out of a room.

  “This!” Kalliope said, thrusting the package in Priska’s hands. “Did you know this was from Spyro?”

  Priska blanched. “No! It was delivered by a young boy.”

  “I don’t want it. He’s messing with my mind! Get rid of it or return it! I don’t care what you do.”

  Priska scanned the note and then looked at the necklace and garment. “I don’t see anything wrong with this.”

  “Nothing wrong? He’s referring to his sick pleasure of abusing me! He likes seeing red and dark blue?” she quoted, her voice rising. “He’s not referring to the necklace and the peplos!”

  Priska bristled, “Either way, you should keep the items. They are an exceptional gift. And he’s not to visit you anymore, so what does it matter?”

  Kalliope gave her a look of disbelief, and stalked down the hall, leaving Priska with the items. Fuming, she went back to her room. She could not believe that Spyro had the nerve to send her such a gift after what had happened. She wished there was a way she could contact Damianos, but she knew that she would have to wait for him to visit her again.

  Back in her room, she flopped down on her bed, discouraged. Who knew when Damianos would return? She knew he could not come to her every night.

  She spent the rest of the day mulling over Spyro, and by the time the evening arrived, her nerves were frazzled. Would Spyro keep sending her gifts? Would he try to harm her? Clearly, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Kalliope barely paid attention as she got ready, and when she swept into the lobby, she didn’t notice the heads turn. She looked strikingly beautiful tonight. Her dark hair was loose down her back with a braid encircling the crown of her head. She was wearing her few small pieces of jewelry and she was dressed in the deep pu
rple peplos, which highlighted her olive skin. Though she hadn’t expected Damianos, she still felt her heart plummet to the floor when she saw he wasn’t waiting for her. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for caring too much. This was why she had a rule about not becoming too attached.

  She scanned the room again looking for her first man of the evening. Something caught her eye, and she scanned back, her nerves getting the best of her.

  Her breath came quick with fear when she made out the familiar dark shape of Spyro.

  He caught her eye and grinned a wicked grin. He began to slowly make his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on Kalliope. She backed up instinctively, tripping over one of the men.

  “Watch it!”

  Kalliope was too distraught to respond, and she continued to stumble backwards. Her mind raced. What could she do? Priska would be useless. None of the women could help her. They were all too weak to fight against Spyro.

  She quickly scanned the room for familiar faces, a man whom she could enlist to help, but every face seemed unrecognizable. Making a strangled cry in her throat, she turned around and fled from the room.

  Just as she was nearing the exit, a strong hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She screamed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?’ the voice hissed in her ear.

  Kalliope turned around to face Spyro, trying desperately to yank her arm from his vice-like grip.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  “I paid for you.”

  “Liar!” she spat. “You were told never to see me again!”

  Spyro shrugged as if he didn’t care. “So maybe I didn’t pay for you. That doesn’t mean I can’t have you.”

  He yanked her towards the door, and Kalliope looked wildly around for someone to help her.

  “Let me go, Spyro!”

  “Shut up pountana!” he growled, twisting her arm.

  Kalliope yelped in pain, and Spyro pushed her out of the lobby. Just as they were leaving, Kalliope glimpsed Harmonia pass by.

  “Harmonia!” she shrieked. Spyro slapped her across the face, making her cry out again.

  He pushed her down the hall roughly, not caring that Kalliope tripped and fell as she went.

  “I don’t like being told what to do,” he said angrily, as he forced her towards her new room. “So, imagine how I felt when I was told that I couldn’t see you any more, regardless of how much I was willing to pay.”

  Kalliope began to panic and she tried to think of anyone else she might encounter in the halls. She prayed that Harmonia had seen her.

  “Did you like my gifts?” he asked, his voice laced with malice.

  “They were disgusting.”

  “Stupid bitch!”

  He twisted her arm again, causing Kalliope to collapse to the floor. In her fall, Spyro lost hold of her and she fell to her hands and knees and quickly tried to scramble away from him.

  “Help! Help!”

  Grunting angrily, Spyro lunged after her, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her back to him.

  Kalliope shrieked, and Spyro angrier than ever, dragged her by her hair for the remainder of the way back to her room.

  “Shut up!” he yelled, pushing her inside her room.

  “Please! Don’t do this!”

  Spyro yanked her by her hair again, pulling her face up to look at him. His face was twisted with anger, lust and remorse.

  “But I want you,” he said simply.

  Pushing Kalliope down on the bed, he yanked off his own belt and began to tie Kalliope to her bedposts.

  “Please! Stop!” Kalliope sobbed, but Spyro’s face was set in hard, ugly lines.

  There was no going back.

  He had tied Kalliope’s arms and legs to each of her bedposts, leaving Kalliope tied down and spread eagle.

  He kneeled roughly between her legs, shoving her peplos up to her waist. Kalliope thrashed and fought against the restraints, but it was a useless struggle. She had been caught, and now Spyro had her trapped.

  He reached under his cloak, grabbed his cock, and began to stroke it vigorously. His eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure. With horror, Kalliope watched as his cock grew thicker and harder. She knew it would be a matter of seconds before Spyro was pushing inside her again.

  Smiling sickly down at her, he gripped his base and moved to enter her.

  “No!” a voice roared.

  Kalliope looked up and was shocked to see Damianos rush into the room. He grabbed Spyro by his cloak, tossing him from the bed onto the floor.

  Spyro cried out in anger, getting off the floor and lunging at Damianos.

  Damianos punched him square across the jaw, Spyro’s bones made a sickening crack as they came into contact with Damianos’ fist.

  “You were told to stay away!” Damianos bellowed, his bright blue eyes an angry storm of rage.

  Cradling his jaw, Spyro stood up, his eyes twinkling maliciously.

  “And what are you going to do about it, Damianos?” he challenged, “Stop me?”

  “That’s right, I’m going to fucking stop you!” Damianos lunged for Spyro, but this time he was too quick and ducked, sending Damianos onto the floor.

  Spyro laughed a cold, hard laugh.

  “Poor Damianos,” he mocked. “Always the one to come in and save the day! Just like you tried to do with your filthy mother!”

  Kalliope, who had silently been urging Damianos off the floor, snapped her head up to look at Spyro. What did he know of Damianos’ mother?

  “You. Leave. My. Mother. Out. Of. This,” Damianos whispered.

  He lunged again, and this time made contact with Spyro’s gut.

  Spyro fell over, coughing and spluttering as the wind was knocked out of him.

  “You don’t get her!” Spyro wheezed, staggering back up to his feet.

  “I claimed her!” Damianos roared. “I respect her! I care for her!”

  “I care!” Spyro gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

  “Lies! You beat her!”

  Spyro took a gulp of air, and stood up, his eyes wild and frightening. “You don’t always get your way, Damianos! You can’t just take everything that you like! You cannot always take what’s mine!” he shrieked, lunging for Damianos. Damianos wasn’t quick enough, and Spyro punched him in the eye.

  Damianos yelled with pain, and cupped his eye. When he pulled his hand away, Kalliope could see blood from a cut just above his brow line.

  Frantic, she tugged at her restraints, desperate to get up and help in any way she could.

  Spyro laughed again, circling Damianos as he wiped blood from his eye.

  “I will kill her before I let you keep her to yourself,” Spyro promised spitefully, his voice barely audible.

  Kalliope gasped, feeling more tears stream down her face. Every fiber of her being was filled with terror, and she suddenly and desperately wished she had never come to Hera Selene. Her life with Gaia may not have been ideal, but she was comfortable there, and she felt loved and safe.

  All the treasures and luxuries of Hera Selene were not worth the additional fear that came along with it.

  Damianos had straightened up, and his eyes were cold steel. Kalliope shrank back against the bed, frightened. She had never seen another human with such hatred and violent determination in his eyes.

  “You will never lay a hand on her again,” Damianos vowed softly, moving towards Spyro in slow, calculated steps.

  Spyro threw his head back, erupting in nasty laughter.

  It happened so quickly that Kalliope wasn’t sure it had actually happened.

  Damianos lunged for Spyro, grabbing him by the throat, and throwing him against the wall.

  Except, he didn’t let go of Spyro’s throat.

  Shocked at Damianos’ quick movement, Spyro’s eyes popped open, and he grabbed at the hands around his throat.

  As Damianos threw him against the wall, he pulled back on Spyro’s neck and with all his force, slammed Spyro’s head agai
nst the stonewall.

  There was a sickening crack as his head hit the stone.

  Kalliope heard herself scream, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  There was no sound.

  Slowly, she cracked her eyes open and saw Damianos release Spyro’s throat. She watched Spyro slide slowly down the wall onto the floor. His eyes were wide and glazed over, a look of surprise frozen on his lifeless face.

  Kalliope gagged when she saw the red blood stain on the wall that followed Spyro’s head. Spyro coughed and spluttered, no words coming out, and bright red blood began to bubble from his mouth.

  Kalliope closed her eyes, turning her head from the sight, and letting her tears fall. She kept her eyes closed, sobbing, as every emotion washed over her.

  Damianos was at her side, crooning words of comfort, and swiftly untying her tight restraints.

  “It’s over Kalliope. It’s over,” he repeated, taking her into his lap once she was free.

  Kalliope choked on a sob, clinging to Damianos.

  “Open your eyes,” he begged, stroking her hair, and wiping at her tears.

  Reluctantly, Kalliope did as she was told, and she found herself looking into the bright blue eyes of Damianos, no longer filled with hate, but filled only with concern.

  “It’s over,” he promised, tilting her chin. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  Kalliope knew she should feel sorry over the loss of life, but she didn’t. She felt nothing but relief. Once Spyro came for her tonight, she knew that he would never leave her alone. He didn’t care what people told him, he was determined to hurt Kalliope.

  “Why-why did he mention your mother?” Kalliope stuttered, remembering the strange comment. She kept her eyes trained on Damianos, not wanting to look at the lifeless body on her floor.

  Damianos sighed. “I don’t like to talk about my past.”

  Kalliope gave him a pointed look and he nodded in concession.

  “My mother was a whore. And not in the beautiful and sophisticated way of the women at Hera Selene. She was a whore of the streets. Begging for money, performing sex acts in dark alleyways. I was a bastard. My mother slept with so many men that my father could have been any man in Athens.”