by Syra Bond
'No woman is ever too chaste for desire,' shrugged Chryseis. Sappho relaxed back on the heavy satin throws, a little more at ease but still confused. 'My dearest Sappho,' continued Chryseis, 'I watched as you enjoyed the buk-ka-ke. I watched you revelling in the streaming semen, bathing in it, washing yourself in it. And I saw your pleasure when they urinated on you. I watched you drink your fill. I know your desires. If you want more, I can arrange it any time you wish. I can have more men brought, men specially selected by Master Wang for their copious semen, and for how far and how hard they can eject it. Would you like that Sappho? Would you like that?'
'Yes... well... yes...' said Sappho, embarrassed that Chryseis had seen her and embarrassed that her joy had been so obvious. At the same time she could not escape the knowledge that she had been excited by the delights of being watched. 'Yes, I would,' she affirmed. 'Could you truly arrange it?'
'Of course. There is nothing I cannot do. My father is the priest of Apollo. His worshippers cater to my every need. They are so afraid of Pelador, and so afraid of Apollo, there is nothing they will not do. If you want buk-ka-ke you can have it. If you want thrashing, there are many experts here who will oblige. They can thrash you for hours and only leave the faintest red marks on your buttocks, your breasts or the soles of your feet. Or, if you prefer, they can create ridged wheals wherever you want, angry and sore and impossible to bathe because of the pain. Or whipping. In any way you can imagine and in ways you could never imagine. I have had girls whipped with flails and belts, with wooden paddles, and tightly bound braids. I have had them whipped for hours or even days and they have begged for more. So exquisite has been the pain, my dear Sappho, they have begged for more. You can be suspended by your wrists or ankles or both. You can be hung up as long as you want, and perhaps take a thrashing or a whipping while you hang there, incapable of protecting yourself, at the mercy of your torturer. Just think of that, Sappho! Watching the flail cut into your nipples or seeing its ragged talons biting the insides of your legs and the soft outer edges of your cunt. Or perhaps you like your mouth plugged? It can be filled with any sort of gag imaginable; large balls, serrated devices made from precious metals, iron bars, and of course, cocks! You can have as many cocks as you wish. There are so many men available in this city. Master Wang can arrange anything. He does things all the time for me. I wanted to see a girl squeezed into a tiny iron cage and he brought me one. I kept her there all day as she urinated and cried and begged to be released. I had water thrown over her for an hour afterwards. I like that in particular - drenching. Sometimes I have it done to me. It is delectable, Sappho, especially if the water is ice-cold. It is the most delightful pleasure imaginable. That is something you must try.'
Sappho smiled but she was mesmerized. She had not even thought of such things. She did not know what to say.
'You look mystified, my dear new friend Sappho. Perhaps you do not believe me. Watch. I will show you.'
Chryseis recalled the naked men and had them line up. 'As you seem so uncertain, I think I will choose something for you. Something simple but something that will encourage you. Yes, I have it!'
One of the girls with rings in her nipples was told to bend down on all fours. Chryseis helped position Sappho, first kneeling her behind the girl then bending her forward over her back. Chryseis made Sappho wrap her arms around the girl and push her fingers through the rings in her nipples. The girl winced as the rings pulled and stretched her flesh.
Sappho felt nervous - excited and filled with anticipation. But she was afraid of what might happen; worried in case she could not bear it.
The girls made sure her buttocks were high, and squeezed open so that the swollen shape of her delectable crack poked between them. Two of the girls knelt beside Sappho's head and cradled her chin on their joined hands. She felt the centre of attention, as though everything was happening because of her. There was no sense of the excitement of being discovered - she was fully exposed - but that exposure thrilled her deeply. She gulped in expectation and swallowed hard against the strain the girls' cradling hands caused on her extended throat.
One of the naked men was sent for a flat leather strap. He brought it and stood behind Sappho's raised buttocks. He waited. Another man was told to kneel in front of her face. She looked at his bulging cock as he held it before her and she could not stop herself licking her lips, which were dried by the tension of the building excitement and the unreleased anticipation.
The first blow across her buttocks surprised her and she gasped loudly in shock. She waited for the second, and the third, and tightened herself in ecstatic expectation. Each sting increased her pleasure. The first few strokes only made contact with her buttocks but, as she welcomed more, she opened them enough for her sex lips to receive the same punishment. That was where she found the greatest pleasure. The rhythmic strokes against her tender flesh caused her to drool and roll her eyes. She was overtaken by it, enveloped by it, and as the beating got harder, fiercer, she welcomed it more. As the thrashing continued and her joy brimmed higher to the surface she felt the throbbing glans of the cock in front of her against her lips. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and, as she took it in and sucked hard and swallowed it as deep as she could, she rose against the beating strap and collapsed forward in a surge of uncontrollable joy. She sucked and gasped and gagged and swallowed and burned all over and only wanted more.
When the cock was finally drawn from her mouth there was no semen, she had drained it completely.
Each man took his turn to continue the thrashing, each one harder than the one before. And each one took his turn to fill her mouth and drive his cock deep into her throat as he finished copiously and she drank.
Chryseis sat on cushions watching. A girl masturbated her. She was distracted only for a few moments when Master Wang appeared behind a curtain. Chryseis pointed towards the girl who had the ring through her clitoris, and nodded.
Master Wang, the Chinaman who organised buk-ka-ke throughout the city, slipped away from the temple of Apollo. He held a leather leash which was firmly attached to a collar around the neck of Calliope. He crept through a labyrinth of passageways and alleys, pulling the girl behind him, until he arrived at a narrow iron grating door in a thick bricked wall. He reached up and rang a bell on a heavy iron chain.
'Who is it that seeks entry?' a deep forbidding voice asked from within.
'Praxis. It is me, Wang. I have a little something for you. A pretty little something, I can assure you. She is from the best of places too. From the temple of Apollo.'
A large bald head appeared behind the grating. Two copper rings dangled loosely from tattooed ears and another ring hung from a pulpy, reddened nose. The head leant forward into the dim light in the alley and revealed two roughly sewn sockets where eyes had once been.
'Bring her in,' said Praxis gruffly, as slowly he opened the grating and let the Chinaman in. 'I hope she is strong enough, Wang. I have found many new ways of torturing the slaves who find their way into my emporium. And some fail me before I am done with them.'
'If this one does, Praxis, I know of another who certainly will not.'
Chapter 6
The raid on Troy
As Achilles and Ajax set out for a surprise raid on Troy, Eva was left to suffer. After their humiliation on the beach, she and the other women had been rounded up and driven into a compound made from animal hides stretched on stakes. The compound was encircled by dogs, all straining on taut leather leashes tied to iron rings driven on spikes into the ground. The women were forced to kneel most of the day, then at night they were made to crawl on all fours and do the bidding of their masters, the cruel Greeks. Each night they were beaten, sometimes with long canes, sometimes with whips or flails. They all screamed as they were punished, but Eva less than the rest. She felt it honourable to be strong in her suffering, to show the others she was of royal heritage - brave and forbearing. But her silent suffering brought its own perverse penalty. The more
she trapped it in - the longer she suppressed her screams and torment - the more it inflamed her senses, her passion, her need. The longer she trapped her passion, the wilder were her screeching exclamations as ultimately they exploded in a turmoil of ecstasy, pain and pent-up desire.
One night two of the dogs were removed from their leashes and Eva and another woman were collared and tied up in their place. By the morning the other woman was howling like all the other dogs. She was crawling around on her hands and knees, sniffing the others, drooling spit, licking at them, growling. Eva, though, was still where she had been left, never having moved, never having given in to the animal instincts which could have so easily been aroused. They released the other woman, but even though Eva was left there for two more nights, still she remained in control of herself, her body and her desires.
Achilles came to see her sometimes. He admired her strength but she was also a challenge to him. There was not a female yet he had failed to conquer, and he did not intend that Eva should be the first.
Eva watched the raiding party depart. She remained pinioned well off the ground against the side of a ship. A ball was bound tightly into her mouth, her arms and legs were spread wide and tied by ropes into heavy iron rings fixed into the ship's boards. The smooth ball was crafted from stone. A hole was drilled in it through which was passed an iron rod with a ring on each end. Black leather straps looped through each ring. They led up on each side of Eva's nose, then on the bridge were twisted together before pulling tightly across her forehead. The twisted straps were stretched along the middle of her long red hair, then twisted again in a knot at the back of her neck before returning along her jawline and back into the rings on the iron rod.
Eva flared her nostrils and breathed in deeply. She knew that Achilles and Ajax would soon be back and that when they returned they would have new ways of increasing her seemingly unending suffering. Some dogs sniffed around her. She glared down at them with her piercing green eyes and they ran away.
Two sailors, bored by their absence from home, and tired of the never-ending encampment on the beach, stopped to look up at her.
'She is a rare beauty, Crios,' said the first as he poked a stick he was carrying into Eva's foot. 'A German princess some say. And with an appetite for pain and suffering that is impossible to satisfy. While others whine she bears all, they say.'
'Perhaps she has not had enough of a test yet, Abas,' said the second.
'Perhaps not,' said Abas, smirking. 'Perhaps she has met her match today though. Perhaps Crios and Abas can bring her to her knees.'
A shudder passed through Eva. She fixed her stare ahead. She did not know how much more she could take.
'I think we might just do that,' laughed Crios, running the point of the stick along the base of Eva's foot.
She licked the back of the stone ball in her mouth. It was cold from the chill of the night. Her mouth was stretched as wide as possible and her face felt strained and tight. Her teeth pressed against the stone, top and bottom, and even though it was perfectly smooth, they grated if there was any movement between them. She smelled the leather strap that held it in place, and its tightness against the back of her neck. She squirmed her head from side to side in a vain attempt to ease it.
'I think she is trying to ask us something,' said Crios, still pulling the point of the stick along the sensitive sole of her foot.
'Yes, she wants the same done to the other foot I think.' Abas laughed, picked up a stick and started doing the same to her other foot.
Her ankles had been bound tightly; twelve revolutions of the rope before they were fixed into the iron rings. She could hardly move her feet at all, but as Crios and Abas drew the points of the sticks against her soles she could not stop herself from flexing them in a pointless effort to prevent the irritation. Bending them gave a moment's relief, but as soon as the points came in contact again the movement that had brought some respite had now made them even more sensitive. If she kept her feet still the irritation was lessened, but so was her ability to keep them still. The irritation, the tickle, the glancing sense of almost unmade contact, shivered up her calves and into her knees. It travelled like a stream of fast-flowing water, seeking out every place where there was sensitivity, every place where she could feel contact with sensation. It ran up her thighs and joined together, doubling in its force before, like a clasping claw, it grasped her fleshy cunt. First it went into the swollen flesh of her outer labia, enriching it with a slight burning. Then it ran between them - fizzing, tingling, setting her on fire. Before entering her, before penetrating her body fully, it ran around her anus causing it to contract then dilate in a regular rhythm, uncontrolled, of its own accord.
Eva licked the ball. It was warming now. She wished she could bite down on it, to relieve some of the tension, but she could not, did not dare. Then, like a tantalising tentacle of fire, the sensation that arose on the soles of her feet, entered her vagina. It burned her clitoris. It was as if it had been grasped by fiery fingers. It boiled the moisture that clung to the inner flesh. It burned as deeply into the warm darkness as possible, then with nowhere else to go it exploded into her whole body. It filled her completely, and with a sudden jerk of passion she submitted to the overwhelming storm of ecstasy.
She gulped and swallowed hard and her teeth involuntarily ground against the stone. She could not swallow and tried again. This time it made her choke, and as she coughed she bit harder, more painfully, onto the unforgiving ball.
The sensation from her feet burst in her head. She saw sparkles in front of her eyes and they ran out in glittering showers, erupting in a wild tempest of light. She gasped again, and coughed, and she was overcome by the light of her joy as it filled her mind completely.
She heard herself groaning with pleasure. She tried to stop it. She licked the stone in her mouth. She squeezed her eyes tightly. But nothing could stop it. She groaned again and gave up trying to hold it back.
She was not aware of it stopping, but when she saw Crios beside her, on a ladder, untying the ropes at her wrists, she knew it must be over. At last, she was being released. Her suffering had come to an end. She was being saved.
She turned her head and looked at him; young, vigorous and handsome. He did not return her glance. Her arm came free, and Crios moved to the other side and undid her other wrist.
Eva stayed against the side of the boat, balancing on her ankles, in place only because of her stiffness. She dropped her head forward, relieved by what she thought was happening, and toppled forward. She arched out against the fulcrum of her ankles, falling stiffly away from the boat, then as she described a semicircle, coming back to the lowest point at the bottom of her fall. The curvature of the hull allowed her to swing beneath it before rocking back to the perpendicular. She hung upside down by her ankles, her arms stretched down but just off the ground, her long red hair trailing down in a rich, fiery tangle of shining curls.
The sudden shock of falling, of stopping at the bottom of the fall, made Eva bite hard onto the stone ball. Pains shot through her as her teeth ground against the inflexible surface. Her nostrils opened wide as her heaving lungs demanded breath. Her rapidly beating heart throbbed in her constricted chest. She swung for a few moments, looking down to the ground, reaching with outstretched fingers in a vain attempt to reach it. She needed to swallow but could not, and again she coughed as the spit that filled her mouth ran into the back of her throat.
She did not have time to realise her situation. She felt heat between her legs; sudden, penetrating, overcoming. Abas had his face against her spread sex, his chin against her anus, his hands against the insides of her thighs. He delved his hot tongue inside, searching out the fleshiness, its moisture, its fragrance. Eva felt it probing deep, lapping up her moisture, depositing its own. How could she wish for him to stop when she wanted more? How could she deny the pain of her humiliation when it was her very dishonour, her disgrace, which was causing her to want it?
Even against the
weight of her body and the pressure on her ankles which supported it, she allowed her hips to rise. She needed him to know that she wanted more, that she wanted it deeper, wetter, hotter. She wanted him to chew on her flesh, as if he was consuming her.
He buried his face against her. She allowed her anus to widen against his chin, hoping to pull it close against the pulsating muscle; it too wanted filling. His tongue sank into her cunt as far as it could, and she rose higher and allowed her orgasm to flow. She wanted to grasp his head between her legs, to hold him there while she convulsed against his lips. But her bonds constrained her from doing it, made her convulsion that much more potent. She felt her anus throbbing against his chin and her vagina tightening around his tongue. His spit mixed with the moisture of her sex. It ran between her spread buttocks and into the small of her back. She bit the stone and heaved rhythmically with the beats of her ecstatic dissipation.
As he pulled away she felt the draught of coolness across her flesh. It calmed her for a moment and she relaxed. Her muscles lost their tension, then unexpected and unprepared, she felt a cutting lash across her back.
The first one surprised her. She did not really know what it was. Her face was directed towards the side of the boat, and she could not see what was happening. The second allowed her to realise what was happening. The third simply hurt. And the pain increased with every blow as Crios stood back on the beach and thrashed her with his wide leather belt.
'Now we will see if she can stand the suffering of the belt!' he shouted excitedly as he drew the heavy belt back again. 'There is no woman yet who has!'
Time and again he lashed Eva's taut skin. She twisted in agony. Her back and shoulders soon became sensitized so much that each new blow made her giddy with the penetration of pain. Her buttocks took blows as well - lashing blows, blows well aimed and blows that missed their mark. Crios raised the belt vertically too, and brought it down squarely against her exposed sex. It smacked against her flesh and sent shivering pains out into every part of her body. They culminated in stinging spasms of agony in the tips of her hard and throbbing nipples.
