Trojan Whores Read Free

fleece. A ram's head shrouded his face. Its
curled horns shone in the torchlight. His muscular arms strained as
he worked his way down the steps on all fours. He looked from side
to side, seeking out his victim. Then another, descending from
behind the statue of Zeus, the father of all gods. Another worked
his way around the effigy of Aphrodite, the goddess of passion.
Then a last, emerging from the back of the statue of Hera, the
ox-eyed goddess. The worshippers stepped aside as slowly the
fleece-covered men worked their way down the steps.
    Sappho again
pressed her pulsating clitoris. She could not hold back. It was
impossible. She held it between thumb and forefinger and pressed
her other fingers deep into the open flesh of her wet vagina. They
slid inside, penetrating her as deeply as she could get them. She
panted in short gasps. She felt the fire of delight blazing out of
control through her burning body.
    The four men
gathered around the girl by the altar. Still she had not moved.
They sniffed around her in turn. They pressed the noses of the
ram's heads between her buttocks. They inhaled her scent. They
licked her succulent sex.
    Sappho
imagined how the girl must feel; waiting, anticipating and yet
unsure what would befall her. Holding still, not daring to move
because her master had not instructed her otherwise. Keeping her
nose and chin against the ground, opening her mouth, filled with
fear. Feeling the cold noses against her sex, wondering what would
happen. Gasping as her heart beat loudly in her chest.
    Sappho groaned
and dropped to her knees. She stretched her arms out like the girl,
reaching forward as she bowed down and raised her buttocks as high
as she could. She wanted her wrists tied in the same way as the
girl. She wanted to feel the drying leather thongs tightening. She
wanted to experience the pain of captivity, of submission. She
gasped as she felt a wave of pleasure running through her. Just to
hold her buttocks up for everyone to see, just to be ready for one
of the men to take her, was enough. She did not need to feel their
bodies against hers. She did not need to be penetrated, or smacked,
or thrashed with a cane, or whipped. She shuddered and trembled as
her joy coursed through her. She shouted out again. This time
louder. This time, a scream.
    She heard it
in her head; shrill, piercing, a shriek. It was all she could do.
Her head was full of it. Shouts and screams, howling, voices. She
dropped forward gasping. But she could still hear the voice above
her own frantic breathing. She felt a moment of panic. What was
happening? Everything was out of control. The world was in
turmoil.
    The voice
boomed out.
    'Now! Now!
Take hold of the imposters. Stop them now before they corrupt our
ceremonies to Apollo. Stop them now, before they bring his anger
down on us for blasphemy and irreverence.'
    She heard
stamping feet and noisy clatter. She turned and saw Priam's cruel
son, Prince Polydorus, standing next to the statue of Apollo.
    'Take them!'
he shouted, pointing down at Chryseis and Sappho. A large ruby set
in a golden ring flashed on his forefinger. 'Take them!'
    He marched
down the steps towards the altar. The men threw off the fleeces and
took hold of Chryseis and Sappho. Sappho was dragged to her feet.
She looked around wide-eyed and confused.
    'And any of
their followers! Take them too! Are there any here who see these
pretenders as the true priests of Apollo? Are there any who think
the great god of prophesy, Apollo, could be served by such as
these? If there are, speak now.'
    All the
worshippers shrunk back. Polydorus' reputation for cruelty and
quickness of action were well known. No one dared stand against him
or his ways. Many shook their heads, many shouted his name, none
proclaimed allegiance to Chryseis and Sappho.
    'Then it is
settled!' he roared triumphantly. 'I will take over as the priest
of Apollo. My act will finish the reign of the priest Pelador and
his faithless daughter. Bind