The Torture of Paris

Huge thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing. Sorry it's been so long, folks. I will try to update more regularly. As always, I have no claim to any of the characters of Troy, but Marishka is mine.

Paris should have known he couldn't stay safe from the clutches of Agamemnon. The very next morning, he didn't hear the door swing open. Marishka, however, did. She bolted upright, her heart thumping wildly. This couldn't be! They wouldn't come into her personal chambers and rip him from her grasp.

She watched as two guards marched over to the still-sleeping Paris and stuffed a rag filled with a sleep-inducing liquid into his mouth. It would knock him out and leave him unconscious for hours. When he woke up, he would wish for more of the drug. It, of course, would not be given.

Paris's eyes snapped open as he realized what ws going on. He tried to struggle, but his arms were bound behind his back and tied with crude rope before he could even try to fight. He screamed into his gag, and knew that something had definitely been administered to him. He turned his head towards Marishka, who was up out of her bed on the couch. She rushed towards him but was grabbed violently by her hair and yanked backwards by one of the guards.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she screamed, knowing that she would not be obeyed.

Indeed, the guard simply laughed and held her tighter.

"Leave him alone! You have no right to come into my chambers and take him!" She was furious now, swinging her fists at the guard. She managed to knock him off balance just as Agamemnon walked in. Menelaus was nowhere in sight, but Marishka feared he would arrive very soon.

"Marishka, Marishka," Agamemnon laughed as he strode over to her. She tried to move out of his way to get to Paris, but the evil king held her fast, his large, meaty hands on her fragile arms. There was no use struggling with him. She would only hurt herself.

"Please, my lord," she begged. "Please, don't hurt him anymore."

"But, why, my beauty? He is the scum and filth of the Earth. He truly does not deserve to live, slut that he is. You could have your pick of any man of Troy and you want this pathetic whore?"

Paris's vision was cloudy as he watched what was going on through half-closed eyes. The drug was starting to take effect and he fought to stay awake. Marishka's eyes were clouded with tears as she sobbed. There was no saving him now. "Please, my lord Agamemnon, please..."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. The king did not care for this spirited woman and wanted to make the young Paris suffer even more for attracting the beautiful Greek princess. In truth, Agamemnon had always loved Marishka's beauty, but it had turned into hate as she made plea after plea for Paris's safety. He grew tired or her nagging.

"If I find out that you go near him again, I will have you banished from Troy. Your father trusts my judgment too much to save you, so do not play that card with me, princess," he snarled. Turning to look at Paris, who was now completely unconscious, he snapped his fingers at the guards holding the young man.

"Take him away. You know where. I will join you in a moment."

The guards nodded and started away with their captive. They dragged him rather unceremoniously through the halls, allowing his bare feet to scrape along the hard marble.

Down into the lowest dungeons of the palace of Troy they went, Paris unconscious behind them. Many steps they descended before they finally came to the rat-infested hole which would be the new home of Prince Paris. Opening one of the "cages" they tossed the young man inside, laughing as his head hit the hard stone wall.

But they were not finished yet. The young man was clothed in a robe of one of the men of the palace. Nudity would be a way of life for this man, they thought, as they ripped the garment from his body and tossed it away. Now he was nude again, yet his cock hung limp and flaccid between his legs. That would not be so for long.

Paris was yanked up by his arms and tied with his hands behind his back to a pole in the middle of the cage. His legs were spread wide before the two guards and a piece of rope was wrapped around each of his ankles and tied to the corresponding bars of steel surrounding his prison. He was now rendered immobile and wide open for anyone who would come looking to sate their lust with him.

"My, but he does have a large cock, doesn't he?" laughed one of them.

"That he does, my friend, but Lord Agamemnon gave explicit orders not to touch that virginal opening of his. I have heard, though, that he has already been taken by Lord Agamemnon and Lord Menelaus. He was a tight one, from what the palace gossips have stated."

Laughing, the two left the cage, locking it tightly behind them. Paris would be out cold for hours and when he woke up, Agamemnon would be there, along with his brother, just waiting to take even more revenge on the poor young man.

***

Marishka sat alone, sobbing in her room. How could they do this to her? She had never been anything but loyal to the kings, and this was how they repayed her? Why was Paris so important to them? Surely they had other prisoners whom they could torment. Just leave the prince alone.

She realized that the reason that they wanted him so badly was the fact that he was important to her. She cared for him, maybe even loved him in some way. They saw this and wanted immediately to take him from her. Their own personal satisfaction and pleasure always came before everyone else.

She had no idea where they had taken him. Truly she did not. There were places of the palace that even she did not about and her hopes of finding Paris this time were slim and none. There was nothing more she could do.

Locking her door, she laid down on her bed. She picked up the vial next to her head. Did she truly want to do this? Yes, she could take no more of this. No more could she hear the screams of men tortured for pleasure and entertainment. She opened the vial and downed its contents in one swallow.

Moments later, she slipped into peaceful oblivion.