Trojan Slaves (25 page)

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.

'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.'

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!'