The Torture of Paris

The large ship was coming closer to Troy's port by the minute. Agamemnon glanced out the window of his chambers and smiled to himself. He was going to get exactly what he wanted this day, of that he was sure. The king coming on the large vessel had no idea what was in store for him, negotiation-wise. Sure, he would be fair, but ultimately he would come out on top. Just like he always had.

Rising from his settee by the window, Agamemnon pulled on his robes and adorned his fingers with his priceless rings of gold and silver. He left his room and made his way outside down to the dock to meet the king of Ithaca.

He wondered how Paris was faring.

***

Agamemnon needn't have wondered. Paris was still lying on the couch, blood and semen dripping out of his beaten, bruised body and cascading onto his calves. He didn't know how much longer he could stay in this position, kneeling like a common slave. But, in actuality, that's what he was...a slave.

Triapus was watching as the men took him one by one, stuffing their members into his wide, tortured hole. He'd almost become numb the pain was that unbearable. He got no chance to relax between rapes. He felt dirty, violated and worthless.

He'd had fists, cocks and other inanimate objects thrust inside of him. The men seemed to enjoy taking random objects and thrusting them inside the young body.

Begging was useless. They would slap his rear end or yank on his hair, telling him to be quiet and stay still or be flogged. Paris wondered if it would be worse than this torment.

Suddenly, the rapes stopped and Paris looked behind him to see what was happening. He was yanked up fiercely and dragged across the yard like a toy. They had approached a large tree in the yard. Pushing the young man against the rough bark, which cut into his already torture backside, his arms were bound backwards around the tree and his legs spread and tied as well. He was now helplessly secured to the unforgiving wood. And his cock and balls were exposed to all.

***

Menelaus crept into Marishka's room. She was still unconscious, and the king heaved a sigh of relief. He'd hoped that she wouldn't be awake to fight him.

She was really beautiful. The king stood for a moment and admired her long, cascading dark hair, the rise and fall of her large breasts, the way her full lips parted as she exhaled. She looked peaceful.

Menelaus continued to watch her, fascinated by her ethereal beauty that came simply from the most basic of human actions. Sleep. Yes, she would be happier sleeping. She didn't want to know her father was dead, killed by Agamemnon's own men at his command. The princess could not bear it.

Better to get it over with.

Without a second thought, Menelaus drew a dagger from his cloak and slit the young woman's throat. He watched without emotion as she gargled once and then the blood ran down from her neck, dripping from the bed to make a crimson river on the hard floor.

Two down, one to go.

***

"Welcome to Troy, my good man!" Agamemnon crowed, extending his hand. A large firm hand clasped his and shook with the confidence of a great king.

His guest smiled graciously. "It is an honor to be in your presence, lord Agamemnon. It will be an honor to rule with you as well."

The old king smiled, but laughed inside. This man was a pompous, foolish being if he thought that Agamemnon truly was interested in ruling alongside another. Menelaus caused problems enough without another, more sympathetic, man attempting to call the shots.

"Come, I have something to show you," Agamemnon said, taking his guest by the arm and leading him towards the courtyard where Paris was.

***

Triapus pressed his fingers to the sensitive spot right underneath Paris's balls. The young man groaned loudly, feeling the sensation spread through his body. His body was turning on him, betraying him. He tried to ignore the white-hot pleasure humming through him, but as the solder's mouth engulfed his hard, ready cock, Paris could feel his legs trembling.

The sting in his buttocks had not subsided a bit, but it seemed to add to the arousal he felt as Triapus's tongue made its way up along the large, bulging vein on the side of his penis. Rough hands cradled his balls almost gently, fingers massaging the tender sacs of flesh and rolling them to and fro.

Paris's eyes closed and, though he tried his best, he could not stop the way that his body was responding to this man's ministrations. He knew he had a large load to shoot and didn't care anymore if he lost control. He'd never had it in the first place.

The other men were again becoming aroused simply by watching Paris be brought to his precipice. Triapus circled Paris's fat, swollen head with the tip of his tongue and lapped up the drops of pre-cum leaking from the prisoner's cock.

Please, just let me die, Paris plead. He could feel his cock jerking in the man's mouth as he sought for release. Just as he was about to let everything go, Triapus removed his mouth and allowed another soldier to take over, thus making Paris's cock ache even more.

"Please...release...," was all the young man could manage. "I...it hurts...please..."

He was rewarded by a slap on his penis. Crying out in pain and a bit of arousal, Paris could vague see figures moving in the balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

***

"This man is a traitor to my brother and to Sparta. He is being punished as we see fit." Agamemnon was shocked not to see excitement and enjoyment on his guest's face. In fact, the man looked downright ill.

"Does this not please you to see an enemy treated like the dog he is?"

Fingers stroked the slight beard on the strong chin. "It looks as though he has been punished enough."

"He will never be punished enough for what he has done to my brother and I!" Agamemnon tried not to show irritation with this man's sympathy. After all, if he was going to con the king of Ithaca out of his throne, it would not be wise to upset him.

"Do you wish to have him for yourself? Perhaps you would enjoy him more in quiet."

The man paused for a moment. "Yes, I think I would enjoy him away from others' eyes. Bring him to my guest rooms this evening."

"So be it." Agamemnon hoped that by allowing his guest to take the boy numerous times, he would be in a better bargaining mood the next day when talks began.

Odysseus did not know what he was getting himself into.