Trojan Slaves (2 page)

Achilles let
the backs of his hands slip against Eva's smooth skin until,
stretching his arms fully up and patting her legs slightly, his
fingertips touched her sex. Instantly pleasure welled up inside
her. Blood pounded through her veins, her temples throbbed with
anticipation, and her heart, already beating heavily in her chest,
raced so much she could not catch her breath. She flinched as he
ran his fingers around her flesh. It was a flinch of expectation,
not fear. She could not believe what she was thinking. Would he
penetrate her with his fingers? Would he open her up and pull her
down onto his tongue? Perhaps he would simply lay the tips of his
fingers against her flesh until, without applying any pressure, it
would open up to him? Yes, she thought, if he just held his fingers
there her lips would part, only slightly, but enough to release her
moisture, and that would be enough to allow his fingers in. Just
the smallest pressure and the silky wet inner leaves would open up
and fold against his fingertips, lubricating them, scenting them,
encouraging them to enter her. Yes, that is what he would do, she
thought. She hung onto the anticipation and wanted him to wait, to
prolong her expectation, to capture her with potential.

But Achilles
did not wait. His fingers followed the contours of the delectable
sex lips, poking gently at the swollen flesh and finding, by
pressing it apart, the wet softness between them. He found her
clitoris - raised and hard, throbbing and wanton. He took it
between thumb and finger and squeezed. Her taut body tightened even
more. He stared into her face and saw her pain as he pinched,
digging his nails into the throbbing knot of flesh, crimping it,
squeezing it, crushing it. Excruciating pain ran through her and,
as spit dribbled from her mouth, a shock of pleasure joined it and
she fell into a drooling ecstasy.

He pulled back
and slowly she licked the spit from around her mouth. Her tongue
poked down towards her chin - pink and fleshy with strands of spit
bubbling at its tip. But he did not let her rest. Her pubic hair
was soft and sparse and he curled his finger into its light curls.
Now she sensed him as a lover might; his power, his heat, his
passion. She knew she was a captive. She knew she was victim to his
every wish, humiliated by his presence, degraded by his attention.
But she could not ignore the swollen, moist flesh of her cunt that
had opened so easily with the lightest pressure from his hand. She
realised he knew her desires, her needs, her wanton expectation.
She shivered again with fear of her own yearnings and, as he felt
them too, he drew back and smiled.

'You are
indeed a beauty,' he said, massaging her ankles and taking her
toes, one by one, into his hungry mouth. 'And,' he exclaimed,
pulling back abruptly, 'you taste like the most delectable summer
fruit!'

Eva rose on
his sucking lips, bending her elbows and, ignoring the pain,
raising herself on her bonds. She could not hold back the sensation
of pleasure. It ran up the backs of her legs, into her buttocks and
across and within the flesh of her sex. As she swallowed hard in an
effort to control herself she felt her breasts tingling, her
nipples hardening and her throat filling with apprehension. But no
amount of gulping could bring her to her senses. She bit her lip,
offering herself more pain, distracting herself, giving herself an
escape route and suddenly, and with a great effort, she shook her
feet from his grasp.

He laughed
loudly and stood back. He was just about to grab her again when he
heard someone behind him. He swung around, his muscles tensing with
easy, athletic poise; he was, every inch, the graceful, assured
warrior.

A heavily
built man, tall with long black hair to his shoulders, stepped
forward. His muscular chest glistened with oil and his burnished
leather tunic shone in the light of the rising sun. He looked
straight into Achilles' eyes. It was obvious he held Achilles in
contempt, but at the same time, it was clear he dared not cross
him.

'Ajax,' said
Achilles, turning away from Eva and reaching out his hand in
friendship. 'Ajax, my friend, you have a fine row of pretty girls
here. Especially this red-haired maiden. She must be from a great
distance. We do not have such fair-skinned females like this in
Greece.' He reached up between Eva's thighs again. 'Nor do we have
such tight clits, I'll wager.' He pinched her flesh roughly and she
felt a wave of joy spreading deep into her stomach.

'You are
right, my lord. They are fine indeed, and as you say, tight. They
say this one was a princess, from the north of Germany. And you are
just in time to see how she suffers. She has not been fully tested
yet, but I do not think she will disappoint. She how she scowls. It
will be a treat for us all to hear her squeal.'

Achilles
smiled.

'Do not be too
harsh to start with, Ajax. I feel her promise will not be revealed
until she warms to our ways. '

'You are
strangely merciful, my lord. Has the beach at Troy made you
soft?'

Achilles knew
Ajax should not say such a thing. If the other men heard him it
would be seen as an obvious challenge to his authority. But he
shrugged it off with a laugh; he knew there were different ways of
controlling men than with the sword. Just as he knew there were
different ways of controlling women than with the lash, or the
flail. Ajax was too barbarous for Achilles' refined taste, but he
was a fine warrior and Achilles needed him for that.

'Ajax, you
reveal my tender side, and for that I am grateful. Come, show me
what these women have for us. You can teach me a lesson in cruelty.
You are right; I need hardening!'

Ajax laughed
and waved to some men who were resting at the bow of a boat. They
sprang up, eager to please their chieftain and to show Achilles
their willingness.

'Unhitch our
prizes!' Ajax commanded. 'Bring them down so we can show our
general, the great Achilles, how we sport ourselves with them.'

At Ajax's
command the soldiers sprang into action. Two of them ran to the
side of the boat. Others clambered up ladders onto the deck.
Draping their legs on either side to keep their balance, the men on
the deck scrambled out along the oars from which the women were
suspended. The oars bent under their weight and the hanging women
bobbed up and down. As the women reached the top of the bounce the
strain was taken from their wrists and they felt the relaxation of
the tension. Their elbows bent slightly and their breasts took up
their normal rounded form. When they dropped again and bounced at
the bottom their arms tightened and squeezed against the sides of
their heads, and their breasts flattened against their strained
ribs. Some gasped under the strain as their weight dropped on the
ropes. Fearing they could stand no more others called out to their
gods for mercy. Eva fixed her stare on the sand beneath, held her
lips tightly together, clamped her jaw firmly, and remained
silent.

Achilles
looked up at her.

'Her name is
Eva,' said Ajax with a wry smile. 'You have a special fancy for
her, my lord?'

'She is
becoming, yes. I fancy she could bring a man a good deal of
pleasure. The right man, of course.'

'Then let us
see if she is worthy of the greatest warrior in the land.' Ajax
turned to his men and pointed up at Eva. 'This one. Rope her feet.
I want her pulled taut. We will see how long she can remain so
silent and tight-lipped.'

The men on the
ground lashed rope around both of Eva's ankles, binding it many
times before tying it off. They looked back at Ajax for further
orders.

'Pull her down
against the tension of the rope. Do not cut her free from the oar
yet,' he shouted. 'Bring her feet to the ground. I want to see her
body stretched. A beautiful way to behold a woman, do you not
think, Achilles? Pulled tightly between opposing ropes. Stretched
until the body will stand no more.'

The two men
pulled, lying back on the sand and winding Eva down against the
stiffness of the barely flexible oar that held her wrists. Slowly
it bent, and gradually they brought her down until finally her feet
touched the ground. They held her there as, with her mouth wide
open, she gasped for breath.

'Keep her
tight!' ordered Ajax. He removed an object from beneath his tunic
and held it up before Achilles. 'Look, Achilles. I took this from
Praxis, the Persian slave master, at the battle of Ixia. That was
before I pierced his eyes with a dagger and threw him to the hounds
of Troy! I can still see him now. Trying to staunch the blood.
Swearing his revenge as they dragged him away. I hope he died
miserably. He had a fine reputation though. He was the cruellest
master ever, they say. He invented so many torture techniques that
King Priam granted him his own palace. I have been told that no
slave could disguise their shiver at the utterance of his name.
Even at the thought of him! Let us see if our little maidens will
learn to quake at the name of Ajax!'

'What is it?'
asked Achilles. 'This prize.'

'A training
device, my lord. Praxis called it the mouth-cock. I will show you
how it works. I think we shall soon have this fiery-headed maiden
begging for release. Though I do not see how she will tell us.' He
laughed. 'See? It is a man's cock, fashioned perfectly and covered
in fine leather. Any of our men would be proud to have such a thing
of their own. But this has a thong driven through it, about
halfway. This is what makes it so effective.'

Ajax stood in
front of Eva. She gave an involuntary shiver, but her body was
stretched so tightly between the rope around her arms and the ropes
around her ankles, that it was not apparent. Her bright blue eyes
flashed from side to side. Her mouth gaped.

Ajax held the
mouth-cock in front of her. Eva gasped at its size, widening her
eyes, quickening her breath and pulling back as far as she could
against the straining ropes. 'Now open wide, my northern beauty,'
he said. 'Let us see how you respond to Praxis' mouth-cock.'

She closed her
mouth, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Ajax pushed the
end of the leather cock against her lips, but she kept them tight
shut. He tried again, pressing hard, but still she resisted,
twisting her head from side to side and fixing her jaw. He grabbed
her cheeks between finger and thumb and squeezed. Her eyes bulged
and slowly her full lips parted but, when he tried to insert the
tip of the mouth-cock, it was still too big to enter.

Suddenly Eva
spat out at him. He looked angrily at her as he wiped it from his
face. She stared at him and spat again.

Achilles
laughed.

'Ajax, I have
seen you glorious in battle against the fiercest enemy. But now I
think I see you brought down by a woman. Can this be true?'

Ajax stared
hard at Eva.

'No, my lord,
it is not true,' he said, seized with anger, and at the same time
that he squeezed Eva's cheeks he gripped her bottom lip, pulled it
down and forced her mouth open. He pushed the cock against her lips
then drove it in. Her startled cough was immediately suppressed as
he pushed it in as far as the thong would allow. He wound the thong
around the back of her head, pulling her chin down towards her
throat, before tying it tight and binding it in a knot.

'Now, my
lord,' he shouted, 'you will see how Ajax controls any who oppose
him.'

Achilles
laughed loudly.

Ajax stood
back and unbuckled his heavy leather belt. Its glistening surface
shone in the sun, its large buckle reflected the light from the sea
and its edges glinted as he wielded it behind him.

Eva gulped
heavily. The bulbous end of the mouth-cock pushed against the back
of her throat. She tried to widen her throat, so it would not
touch, but when she tried it just allowed the mouth-cock to pull
back tighter, and penetrate further. She gagged on it, then
suddenly twisted sideways as a shock of pain cut deep into her
buttocks.

Ajax brought
the flat of the heavy belt down viciously. It smacked against her
buttocks, causing an instant redness to appear where it made
contact. She wanted to scream but she could not. Her mouth opened
involuntarily and her head pulled back in shock, the mouth-cock
pressing further. She gagged again, her throat tightened and she
felt herself heaving. She heard Ajax laugh, and she heard the swing
of the belt as he drew it back. She held herself tight, bracing
herself for more, but when it came she could not hold back the
shock and once more she opened her throat and raised her head. The
thongs that secured the mouth-cock dug into the corners of her lips
and spit bubbled from the indentations they caused.

The belt swept
down again. She strained to react, to save herself, somehow pull
away, but she was so tightly secured at the wrists and ankles that
all she could do was move her head. The tautness of her body
accentuated the pain and heightened her feeling of captivity. She
felt completely under Ajax's control. She was his victim, and his
to humiliate. She could only receive the pain he gave her.

Again the belt
swept down. Again she gulped, again her head went back and again
the mouth-cock was driven deeper. The bubbles of spit became a
dribbling froth, running down her chin, onto her chest then down
each breast until it dripped from her throbbing nipples.

Another blow
bit. The loud smacking filled her ears, and the pain it inflicted
filled her body. Then another blow, and another. She heard the
laughter of the soldiers as they watched and she was consumed by
humiliation. Another blow and she twisted slightly against her
bonds. Her thighs squeezed together and the flesh of her cunt was
tightened. She felt her flesh; its heat, its softness. Another
blow. More laughter. More pain. More humiliation and she twisted
again, but this time not because of the pain, but because she
wanted to feel the tightness of her slit. She wanted to feel the
hardness of her clitoris as her flesh pulled against it. She wanted
to feel the moisture that ran from her swollen crack. With each
blow, with each surge of pain, with each wave of humiliation, her
pleasure built.