Free Trojan Slaves by Syra Bond

faces,
their hands and feet, or their genitals. If he could not get what
he wanted from scent, he touched, mauled with his large sinewy
hands, and licked; there was nothing that escaped the unseeing
Praxis. His slaves lived in fear of his knowledge and his vicious
temper, knowing that if they crossed him or displeased him their
future was both dark and short.
    Chryseis came
here frequently, to this small cell with the iron grill. She
usually masturbated as she watched the suffering slaves. Sometimes
she brought one of the men in her service so she could use him as
well. There were old bits of rope, thongs and unrepaired whips
littering the tiny room. Sometimes she would get the man to
masturbate her, instructing him carefully on the method first. She
liked him to rest his finger at the top of her sex, just inside the
lips, and move it up and down so that he squeezed the flesh of her
sex which put pressure on the tip of her clitoris. Sometimes she
would masturbate him. She liked to hold a cock when it was stiff;
she revelled in its venous texture, its heat, its hardness. She
liked to watch it thicken and deepen in colour when it was about to
eject its semen, and she liked to drink the semen when finally, as
she held the shaft tightly, it spurted from the pulsating cock.
Usually when she did this she kept one finger in the man's anus and
did not take it out until it had stopped contracting with delight.
Once she kept it there and the man's cock hardened again, so after
holding and massaging it in the way she liked, she sucked more
semen from it and still had not removed her finger. Sometimes she
would tell the man to tie her as he wished and as tight as he
wanted. Sometimes, and against her protestations, he would leave
her there, bound and unable to escape, until the next day.
    Chryseis
smiled at Sappho and pulled her face down close to the grill.
    'Look! It is
Praxis. How evil he looks,' she said, barely able to control her
excitement. 'Look at the ugly scars where his sockets were sewn up
by Master Wang. They say he never made a sound as it was done.'
    Praxis marched
into the courtyard with Master Wang at his side. He stopped and
held up his rod.
    'Wang! Bring
me the new girl! And the others you have been collecting. I must
find out what we have. We have clients to satisfy!'
    Master Wang
waved to some men carrying short, double-tailed leather quirts.
They ran forward and took his instructions.
    At the far end
of the courtyard were two heavy wooden doors to the outside. In
front of them were three iron braziers, alive with sparking red
flames. Along the one wall was a row of small cages stacked three
high. On the opposite wall was a timber scaffolding with a water
tank at the top of it. On the wall directly below where Chryseis
and Sappho huddled behind the grill was a row of beautiful naked
girls, chained together through rings in tight leather collars
around their necks. In the centre of the courtyard was a large
timber cylinder, an axle through its centre resting on a crossed
timber mounting on each side.
    'Sappho,'
whispered Chryseis. 'Have you ever seen anything so exciting?'
    Sappho, her
eyes wide with amazement, shook her head but could not answer.
    Chryseis
grabbed Sappho's shoulders and pulled her down closer against the
grill. Sappho felt the cold of the rough iron grating on her face.
Its metallic smell excited her and she inhaled deeply. She peered
down into the courtyard. The men Master Wang had instructed went to
the cages stacked against the wall. Sappho could hardly believe it.
Each one had a young woman inside. There was barely enough room to
accommodate them. Each of them was crouched down tightly, their
arms between their legs and their faces pressed down against their
knees. One of the cage doors on the top tier was opened and the
woman was pulled out. She fell to the ground and shouted out in
pain. Two of the men struck at her with their quirts. She screamed,
but could not stand up. She remained huddled in