The Torture of Paris

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Marishka's eyes opened in the dim light of her chambers. Her limbs didn't seem to be working and she tried in vain to speak. Suddenly, memory came flooding back to her: Paris being yanked from her room and led away where she did not even know of, of drinking the poison that should have killed her. Now it seemed it only paralyzed her.

She panicked as she realized that she indeed was frozen in place on her bed. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. Feeling nauseous, she could barely turn her head to vomit. What was going on? Where was Paris? Where was Agamemnon? Menelaus?

As if in answer to her question, the door opened and Agamemnon walked in. His beady eyes fixed on the Grecian princess and he sneered evilly. "Having trouble moving, my sweet?"

A glare was all Marishka could manage as she directed all her hate and anger at the man standing before her. She tried to speak, but her lips would not move.

"Don't bother trying to communicate, Marishka. It's useless. I've taken the liberty of feeding you enough of that little potion to keep you out of my way. You've stuck your nose where it doesn't belong and now Paris is going to suffer even more because of you. Be happy in the knowledge that once he is dead, I will allow you to resume your duties in this palace. But, he has a long way to go before I will give him the peace of death. A long way."

Marishka tried with all her might and willpower to get up and go after the bastard, but no matter how hard she tried, her limbs would not cooperate. She felt the tears running down her cheeks as Agamemnon let out a peal of laughter and exited her room, leaving the door bolted from the outside.

Where was her father?!

***

Paris quivered in fear as he was shoved unceremoniously into the garden where the Greek soldiers were lounging about, drinking wine and fondling the slave women they had brought along. Once they saw Paris, however, naked and trembling, the quickly dismissed the women and gathered around the poor boy in a circle, allowing him no means of escape. Eyes raked over his nude form, fixating on his cock and balls. Paris blushed a deep crimson red under their gazes and jerked backwards when a finger entered his tight channel. He could feel his lip trembling but he willed himself not to start crying. That would only egg these bastards on.

"Look what we have here, boys. He's nice and tight, a virgin it would seem, but I know the kings have had their way with this whore already!" jeered Triapus, who seemed to be the ringleader of the group.

Before Paris could think, he was grabbed and yanked over to an elegant couch that had been laid in the garden. It had no arms or a back and he was thrown over it on his stomach so that he knelt on his knees at the end of it, cock and balls hanging down , his knees digging into the soft earth beneath his knees. His arms were yanked behind his back and tied together with the strongest rope that could be found.

Great sobs broke forth from his throat as he willed his body not to react. His ass was now bared for all to see and he could hear the appreciative groans and could hear the armor being unbuckled. He was going to be raped. He knew it and could feel it in his bones.

"This boy's going to be one good fuck," murmured a soldier. "He's making me so hard already."

Paris turned his head to at least catch a glimpse of what was going on behind him so he would know when to expect to be breached, the tears running down his face unabashedly, no longer afraid to cry. He wanted to die. He hoped that they fucked him so hard he passed out from the pain. Judging from the size of the cocks around him, waiting for their chance to shove inside of him, he figured it wouldn't be too long.

"Turn your head back around!" snapped another man, grabbing the boy's unruly curls and yanking his head around so quickly he was afraid his neck would snap.

"Please," Paris begged, sobbing loudly now. "Please don't do this." He knew begging was futile, but it was all he had at this point in time. "I'll do anything you wish."

"We've already got you doing everything we wish, whore!" the soldier jeered, motioning to Triapus. "I think this whelp needs to learn a lesson after we fuck him."

Triapus seemed to have the final say in everything that happened to the poor prince. Paris heard the man's moans as he began to stroke his already-hard cock. The other hand found its way to Paris's tight, clenched hole and he began to work one finger in. As much as Paris tried to keep his channel closed to the raping fingers, the digit was persistent and Triapus succeeded in breaching the tender skin, gliding inside the young prince's body. Paris let out a scream of anguish as he felt the hard, calloused finger widening him. Another one joined it and the two digits began scissoring their way inside of his aching hole.

"I think I can get my entire fist in this one!"

Paris cried out loudly and began to kick his legs. Triapus noticed this and knelt on the back of Paris's calves, instantly rendering him immobile. The man was much bigger and stronger than Paris and the young man stood no chance against the sheer brute force keeping him in his submissive position.

A third finger was added and Paris felt so full, he thought he might explode. The pain was so much that he could hardly bear it. His cock was as hard as granite. He could feel it rubbing against the couch and he felt the precum dripping down his inner thigh to wet the grass beneath him. He knew he would be allowed no release, though. It had been his history for the past few rapes and he didn't think it was about to change.

Sure enough, he watched in horror as another soldier knelt below him and fastened some tight string around his cock and balls, effectively binding them in place. The pain was too much for Paris and he began screaming as the fourth finger was added to his aching channel. There was no pleasure in this at all; only pain and suffering.

It didn't help matters that it was blaringly hot outside and Paris could smell the sweat clinging to the nude male bodies around him. It was sickening and he thought he might vomit. Finger five was added and Paris cried out loudly, feeling as if he was being torn. Somehow, he knew he was. He knew within a matter of minutes he would be bleeding and there would be scars all along his anus.

Paris pressed the side of his face to the cool satin of the couch and squeezed his eyes shut as the hot salty tears dripped into them. He knew Triapus's fist was inside of him and he prayed to the gods that his torment would be over soon and he could pass into unconscious. Triapus's hand worked its way around inside Paris and he could hear the jeers and taunts of those around him. Worse than the pain was the embarrassment that he was naked and vulnerable to whatever these foul men wanted to do to him.

The fist moving inside him made him sob and plead for mercy. He felt the fingers move and squeeze onto his prostate, stroking the bundle of nerves and making Paris's cock jump in its confines. His balls tightened and he could feel the sweat dripping down the sensitive sacs of flesh. Fingers pinched him again and again and Paris moaned despite himself. He could feel his cock throbbing and twitching, but never releasing. He thrashed his head back, trying to put his mind on anything but the pain he was experiencing. It was no use, though. All he could concentrate on was the pain in his penis and his sacs and the ache in his ass.

Triapus kept stroking his own cock so that it would be hard enough to enter the tortured boy's body. He coated the head with his own juices and slowly withdrew his hand, making sure he scraped the boy's anus thoroughly with his rough, uncut fingernails, eliciting a cry of anguish from Paris.

"I get first dibs, boys!" Triapus cried as he pushed slowly into Paris with his cock, watching as the blood dripped from the violated opening in Paris' ass. Paris cried out loudly, but his voice was becoming hoarse from the screaming and begging. His throat was buring and he desperately wanted a drink of water.

Triapus's thick cock pushed inside of him and adjusted itself to the large, wide hole. Paris could feel the thick organ deep inside of him and Triapus suddenly stopped, not moving at all. The feeling of fullness completely engulfed Paris and he moved his ass in an attempt to get the man to move. Triapus stayed still, watching as the boy suffered under his ministrations. He reached forward between the boy's legs to fondle his balls. The flesh was taut and agitated, full of semen that would not have a chance to be released.

As if the feeling of the dick in his ass was not enough, having his sacs massaged and teased by the large fingers made him writh in pleasure. If only he could come, maybe the pain in his ass would subside. His tears had ended now and he could feel the sweat on his face from the hot summer sun.

Triapus finally began to move inside Paris and his moans filled the courtyard as he pounded in and out of Paris, making him grit his teeth and hiss through them at the earth-shattering pain in his entire body. His arms were starting to feel numb from being bound behind his back for so long.

The soldier came quickly, and pulled out of the violated, broken body.

"Everyone share him! Take turns now!"

Paris cried out in utter agony as he felt the next solider sticking his fingers into his stinging hole...