by Syra Bond
Sappho shrieked as a cane struck her own upturned buttocks. The cutting pain penetrated her whole body. It burned deeply beneath her skin. It passed directly to all her senses. It jolted her with its harshness. Another sharp cut on the other side sent her head reeling. She crawled forward until her face was touching Eva's buttocks. She stopped, not knowing what else to do. The cane did not strike again and she waited, shivering with fear, frightened to call out, too intimidated to look up.
She did not have to wait long. She felt the cane again, this time short rapid strikes, not hard, nor forceful. She edged forward a little more and the cane was removed. Her nose and mouth were now pressed between Eva's taut buttocks. She licked her lips and felt her tongue touch the pliable lips of Eva's cunt. She breathed in deeply and inhaled Eva's scent, the delectable fragrance of the moisture that glistened on her flesh. Eva rose up, opening herself to Sappho. She allowed her slit to open - revealing its inner pinkness, its glossy wetness, its soft folds, its invitation to enter. Sappho licked more and again tasted the sweetness of Eva's dew. She lapped at it, sucking it onto her tongue. She held it there, not swallowing, feeling the fullness of its taste at the back of her tongue before, finally, she took it down. She breathed deeply and raised her own buttocks in response to the heat she felt growing within her.
The cane bit sharply and Sappho gasped. She leant forward, pressing her mouth harder against Eva's crack. The other cane struck, and again the first, and then the other. She was unable to hold back against the urgent and painful instruction from the angry canes. As she pushed into Eva, so Eva moved forward. But not far; only enough to satisfy the pressure from Sappho, only enough to respond to the need in Sappho to move on the orders of the cruel canes. As they crawled forward together Sappho's face stayed fully between Eva's buttocks, her mouth closely against Eva's cunt.
They were both herded forward with the canes; harsh blows raining down if the soldiers thought Sappho should push harder behind Eva, slightly lighter blows if she was being told to move only enough to keep herself close. They crept along the ditch. The soldiers held the canes above them all the time, ensuring they stayed together, insisting they did not part. It was muddy and their legs were covered in gluey soil and grime. Sappho felt the oozy slime squelching between her fingers. She kept her mouth against Eva's labia, only slacking back when she felt the need for the cane, the pain it brought, and the encouragement it gave to her urgently mounting excitement.
By the time they were at the end of the ditch her buttocks were covered in a crisscross of raised stripes. Her face was wet with Eva's moisture. Her hands were deep in the mud, up to her wrists, and mud covered her arms and thighs. Her own sex ached. She had held back sometimes, raising her buttocks. She knew she would receive a hard slice with a cane to make her draw up closer. She had exposed herself to the beating, but that had not reduced her longing. It had only increased it. Each time she felt the bite across the wet lips of her sex she had not wanted to dip away but instead to rise and open herself wider, to receive its anger more fully.
Eva bent her elbows and dropped her face down to the muddy bottom of the ditch. Sappho licked Eva's cunt more deeply. A soldier pressed his booted foot into the black sludge. Eva was forced to lick it. Sappho was aware only of Eva's cunt, licking deeper, pressing her lips around the soft flesh, nibbling the nub of Eva's throbbing clitoris. She lapped ravenously at the moist flesh, feeling her own heat growing.
As Eva's buttocks rose higher Sappho moved to her anus, licking the tiny star too, tasting the tart bitterness, before poking inside and lapping its smooth inner surface.
Suddenly she felt herself being pulled away. She threw herself from one side to the other, looking for Eva, needing her. But she was restrained. She tried again, but again she was held back. Frustration gnawed within her. They dragged Eva out of the ditch and flung her down over its edge. They returned for Sappho, and she was pulled out and dropped down beside Eva.
'Wash them down!' shouted one of the soldiers. 'They are both filthy!'
The soldiers threw a tent down into the ditch. They bucketed water into it and formed a shallow, cold and dirty bath. Sappho and Eva were forced to kneel in the middle of it. It was soggy beneath their knees and it was difficult to keep their balance. They clung to each other, bedraggled, soiled and pitiful. They shivered as water was thrown over them. Sappho opened her mouth and drank some as it flowed over her face. It tasted acrid, and she spit it out as she gagged and heaved.
The soldiers knocked them both over. Sappho fell on her back in the water, choking and gasping for breath. More buckets of water were thrown at them. It splashed between her legs, making her shudder. Two soldiers stepped into the shallow pool. They held Sappho down, one pinning her shoulders with his feet, the other holding her ankles off the ground and spreading her legs. Others had more buckets and hurled the cold contents over her. She shrieked and gasped as each deluge hit her hard. She gasped with the shock of it. She squirmed against the pressure of being pinned down and spread open.
When satisfied the soldiers dragged the two bedraggled females out of the dirty pool. They pulled them over to the spar that stood at an angle, fixed to the mighty tripod of timber.
Sappho looked up, her face dripping with water, her naked body soaked and glistening in the red flickering light from flaming braziers. The spar towered above her. She shivered, filled with dread, not knowing her fate, only supposing the horror of it.
First Eva was lifted up onto the spar. They dragged her almost to the top, where it was tied into the tripod. They pulled her legs around, forcing her to straddle it. They crossed her ankles and bound them together with strips of wet leather. They pulled her arms around it and bound her wrists in the same way. She gaped, staring up at the tripod, gripping with her thighs in case she slid round and was left hanging upside down from her wrists and ankles.
Sappho was hauled up next. They placed her just below Eva and bound her in the same way. The wet leather straps held her ankles and wrists completely fast - she could not move them at all. She could not see behind her as they fixed a spear with a leather cover over its blunt end to the spar. It was inclined in such a way that it lay just behind her buttocks, directed at her anus. She looked up at Eva. If she could have reached up she could have touched her. Eva's buttocks were widespread, her sex and anus fully exposed. Sappho wished she could get closer; she wanted to feel Eva's heat, she wanted to inhale her fragrance, to taste her moisture.
Several men climbed the tripod and positioned themselves in its crook. Others passed buckets of water up to them, some climbing halfway up, forming a chain, so that they could pass more of the sloshing containers when the need arose. Sappho looked back. Something had startled her. Something was happening behind her. She felt something touching her exposed anus, making her fully aware of her precarious predicament, her degrading position. She felt a deep aching in her tummy; an anxiety building then melting into yearning. She wanted to push a hand down between her thighs.
She could not properly see what was going on. She felt confused, giddy. She started panting, not knowing what to do, not knowing if she could do anything, feeling as if everything was spinning out of control.
She did not see the first bucket of water emptied from the top of the tripod. The first she knew of it was the splash it made when it hit Eva. Eva tightened against the spar, desperate not to swing upside down. Sappho saw her buttocks clench, her anus contract, her sex lips tighten. The water came again. This time it barely glanced Eva before it hit Sappho. It was cold and hard. She closed her eyes and tightened her body. She felt it washing around her and she felt her grip on the spar weaken. She clenched her arms and legs to prevent herself from slipping. Another slosh and another bucket was emptied over them. Eva slid back, her exposed sex closer to Sappho's face. Sappho choked as the water hit her, filling her eyes and nostrils, running into her mouth, soaking her. She felt herself slipping back and gripped harder. But she could not stop herself sliding. She felt somethin
g against her anus. She pulled back but the spar was too wet and her grip too weak. She could not move away from the object that pressed against her - the blunt end of the spear.
More water rained down. Eva slipped and so did Sappho. Sappho tried to hold back, to stay in place. She wanted to feel Eva's flesh against her lips again. She wanted to delve her tongue into her anus. But each time more water cascaded down she slid back. Each time she slid back the spear pressed harder against her anus. Then suddenly, with only another slight movement towards it, her anus dilated and let it in. Each time she slid down it entered a little further, a little deeper. Her anus opened more to receive it; she could not prevent it. And she opened herself to it as well; she could not resist it. She was dizzy with confusion. She strained up towards the delectable sight of Eva's cunt and anus. She dropped back, sliding on the wet spar as her own anus was gradually filled by the spear.
Though exhausted she managed to tighten her thighs against the wet spar and pull herself up slightly. The contraction of her muscles tightened her anus around the spear. She strained to reach Eva's beckoning anus. She squeezed her legs tighter, pressing her thighs against the unforgiving timber. Another deluge of water soaked them. Eva struggled to keep her balance. Sappho stayed as she was, gripping the beam between her legs, her tongue licking out, her objective clearly in her sight. Another heavy waterfall and this time Eva slipped back. Sappho's tongue touched the object of its desire - Eva's anus. She tasted its fragrance. She closed her eyes in delight, letting the contact soak into her, mix with all her senses, flow through her completely. More water poured down on them. Eva slipped back further and Sappho's tongue pressed against the tight circle of delight that promised so much.
Another smack of water hit her face. She slid back more onto the insistent spear. She gulped with the penetration. It could go no further - she was full of it. It stuffed her rectum. It filled her completely. Still she kept her tongue in place, just at the entrance of Eva's anus. One more drenching knocked them both back, but Sappho could not slip any further; she was impaled on the spear, and Eva slid back onto her.
Sappho's face squashed between Eva's open buttocks and her tongue drove into Eva's anus. The pressure of Eva above her forced her onto the spear. She sucked harder, lapped more frantically with her tongue, and she was overcome by a surge of unstoppable joy. She overflowed with pleasure. Her ecstasy spun out of control. She was completely taken over by rapture.
Sappho and Eva were cut down from the spar. The soldiers took turn with them, then as the braziers burned down, one by one they left. Sappho and Eva were left alone. The soldiers did not think them capable of escape. But they did. Eva led Sappho by the hand, weaving between standing piles of armour, spears set in the sand, sleeping soldiers and ravaged women. Eventually they found themselves at the gates of Troy.
They stood hand in hand before the entrance to the city. High walls led off at each side into the distance. The buildings within reached towards the night sky. Sappho felt dizzy with a sight she thought she would never see again. Eva fidgeted nervously. She had never seen anything like it before.
'Do not be afraid, Eva,' Sappho said, squeezing her hand. 'You will be safe with me now. You will be rewarded as I promised. We will live together like sisters. You will never have to suffer again. I give you my pledge. You have suffered too much. Now, it is all over.'
Chapter 19
Troy at last
Sappho and Eva wandered between the crowds of beggars, thieves and foreigners who gathered around the gates hoping for entry to the city. They were held back on two sides of the path reserved for those allowed to enter, by thin copper wires strung in close pairs between spears set in the ground. Several soldiers were posted in front of the gates, occasionally granting access to those who had a right or, if they had no right, to those who could satisfy their eager lust.
Slave traders brought lines of girls to the gates. They were naked, chained into rings attached to iron collars around their necks. Only the Africans had their pubic hair, all the rest were shaved. They waited with their heads hung as purchasers bargained and argued over prices. The buyers checked the girls in turn. They opened their mouths wide and looked closely at their teeth. They fondled their breasts and forced their fingers into their vaginas. They bent them over and pushed the stubby ends of their whips into the frightened girls' anuses. When deals were struck the girls were marched over to braziers into which were stuck the branding irons of different owners. They were made to bend down and hold their ankles as they were branded on their buttocks. If they jumped up in pain they were forced down again and tied. After branding they were dragged away, some screaming, some holding their heads in their hands, some struggling to walk. As the lines of girls were led along the passage between the copper wires and in through the gates more appeared, brought by ever greedy traders to the gates of this, the richest city in the world.
Sappho finally plucked up enough courage to approach the gatekeepers. 'My name is Sappho. I have escaped from the Greeks,' she said falteringly. 'I was their slave. I am the friend of Chryseis, daughter of the high priest Pelador himself. Please let me into Troy, my home.'
'And you do not know the great Pelador is dead?' they jeered, kicking out at her. She shrank back and clung to Eva. They huddled together, not knowing what to do.
A small pony trap drew up, two beautiful women harnessed between its ivory-embellished shafts. They were naked except for plumed, multi-coloured headdresses. A young prince stood proudly on the painted platform between the decorative wheels. Black reins led from his hands into silver bits pulled tightly into the women's mouths. He carried a long whip and thrashed out at them as they drew up. It cracked across their striped buttocks. They dropped their heads, sweat dripping from their noses and chins, spit dribbling from the sides of the silver bits. He pulled back on the shiny leather reins and brought them to a halt.
The young prince called over to the gatekeepers. 'Have you no entertainment for your prince?' he asked disdainfully. 'Have you not provided for Polydorus, youngest son of King Priam himself? When I pass through the great gates of Troy I expect to be entertained. And I see nothing prepared!' He lifted his whip and held it ready to crack across the women's backs. 'Perhaps you have been in your posts too long,' he said menacingly. 'I shall speak to the King.'
The gatekeepers looked at each other fearfully. They obviously knew the young prince and had been both surprised and caught out by his unheralded appearance. They were not going to allow disappointing him to ruin their prospects of the easy jobs they enjoyed. One of them rushed forward keenly, bowed and held onto the sides of the trap.
'Of course we have something prepared for your highness,' he fawned. 'How could you think otherwise, sire? Of course, my lord Polydorus. Please step towards the wire that keeps back the unwanted from our beautiful city. We have something we know will please you. We are so glad you are here at last. We have been awaiting you.'
The haughty young man stepped down from the trap. The shafts lifted as he got out. The women were pulled sideways. He raised his whip high and lashed it down across both their backs. They cowered but could not avoid the punishment. The silver bit fell from the mouth of one of them. She struggled to put it back in but the prince thrashed her so hard she could not.
'See what I have to put up with,' he said petulantly, still beating the harnessed woman.
Sappho winced at his cruelty. The whip cracked and the woman was soon screaming as she twisted and squirmed beneath the fiery lash of her ruthless master.
The gatekeeper's stare fell on her. She looked down as his eyes met hers. Her stomach filled with anxiety. She knew she had made a mistake in looking at him. He strode across to her purposefully.
'See, my lord Polydorus. We have kept this beauty for your entertainment.'
He grabbed her by the arms, pulled her away from Eva and pushed her against the two copper wires. Her sensitive nipples felt the sharpness of them. They pressed against her soft skin and cut a
line into her firmly pliant breasts. She gasped as she grabbed the wires to steady herself. One of the other gatekeepers grasped her arms. He pulled them behind her and held them fast in the small of her back.
The first man stood in front of Sappho and flexed the wires apart, about the width of two fingers. The man behind her pushed until her nipples poked between the two wires, squeezing, forcing them proud of her breast.
Polydorus came closer and bent to look.
'Here, my lord,' said the first gatekeeper. 'This is for your pleasure.'
He took Polydorus' hands and placed them on the wires in such a way that his fingers held them apart. Polydorus nodded and smiled.
'Now, my lord,' the gatekeeper continued. 'Allow the wires to come together. See how you can regulate the pain this poor beggar receives.'
Polydorus held the wires. Sappho looked down, too afraid to meet his gaze. She saw the two wires, one above and one below her extended nipples. The man behind her pushed and the wires dug into her breasts. Her nipples hardened and throbbed. She could not stop them.
'Now when you are ready, my lord, let the wires to come together. I think you will be rewarded.'
Polydorus closed his fingers together and allowed the wires to squeeze into Sappho's nipples. She tried to pull back, but the man behind her kept her firmly in place. He squeezed her wrists together in the small of her back, and using his shoulder and other hand he pulled back her shoulders so that her breasts were thrust forward even more. As the wires closed she felt their heat, warmed by the searing sun, cutting into them, sending a penetrating pain into her breasts. She gasped. She could not move. Polydorus withdrew his fingers and allowed the wires to come completely together.
