A Tale of Ties and Binds - Chapter 25

Chapter 25. A City of Slaves

"It's a shame Ellisia isn't here," Daphne said as the cart rolled up. "I'm willing to bet she loves whorehouses nearly as much as I do."

"Nothing says devotion to the goddesses quite like a night straddling some bound sex slave's face." Serena offered a suggestive wink. "I'm feeling quite pious tonight."

"Well don't spend all our coin on the first whore you see." Penelope hated being the killjoy, but someone had to be the voice of reason. They may need that coin once they reached Sparta and Ellisia had sailed to Attica with her crew to request assistance from the Athenians, taking the ship full of the Cyclops' gold with them.

The whorehouse smelled of wine, meat, sweat and sex - one of the best combinations. Most customers were sailors or traders who'd also come fresh from the port of Gytheio. The slaves were helots, no doubt. They were vassals of the Spartan elite who were slaves through and through. They didn't protest at all as sailors rubbed their rough hands over their round breasts or between their soft thighs. A helot knew no other life than slavery. They were not even permitted to wear clothes other than an iron collar inscribed with the name of their mistress, and they had no choice in that.

The night was long and the coin well-spent. Daphne and Serena ordered a room to themselves and half a dozen whores to share. Their passionate screams of conquest may well have heralded their return to mainland Greece. Penelope was a bit more solitary in her celebration. Two was her limit - both brunettes, one with tits like melons and the other with a tongue like a snake.

The surprisingly rewarding night was followed by an even more surprising morning. Penelope descended the steps to the ground floor to find a familiar face sitting patiently alone at a table. She had long black hair as dark as jet, was taller than most by at least a head, and bore a physique that marked her as a Spartan. From her shoulders she wore a long red chlamys cape, framing her large and exposed breasts. In one hand she fondled the head of her bronze phallic-tipped spear.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," Penelope couldn't hide the beaming smile on her face.

Adara the Spartan looked up from her cup of wine, her lips barely cracking a smile. "It took you long enough to arrive. You were distracted, no doubt."

As laconic as ever. "The usual - Sirens, a Cyclops, a Minotaur - nothing I couldn't handle without you." Penelope embraced her old friend and former sister in bondage, and Adara offered a firm pat on the back. "Last time we were together you said Sparta might be under threat from the Celt's allies. Is this still true?"

Adara shrugged. "No more true now than it was then. I brought the peril before Empress Sappho. She was... dismissive of the idea."

Curses. The Empress of Sparta refuses to go to war and the Queen of Crete welcomes it? What is Greece coming to? "Is there any chance I might be granted an audience with Her? I might be better able to convince Her of the need."

Adara shrugged again. "It couldn't do any harm."

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As they approached the city, it was clear that it was the most unpolished jewel in the crown of Greek city-states. There were no massive temples to offer prayer to the immortal mistresses above, no triumphant columns depicting battles between great armies, no slave auctions dispersing the spoils of the most recent conquest. There weren't even any walls, though Sparta had never needed them.

Spartans did not buy or sell slaves, but took them in battle. They sought no other occupation other than as a soldier. In that sense, every Spartan is a slave to her birthright. The work in the city was performed by the helot slaves without a single utterance of complaint. It was easy to tell them apart. The Spartans had their red chlamys capes and large breasts with wide hips and the helots had nothing but their collars, bonds and gags. What struck Penelope most was the almost complete absence of ropes on them. Each slave was minimally bound at the wrists and could easily escape if they so wished.

"Why does Sparta not keep her slaves strictly bound?" Penelope asked.

"Heavy bondage is not necessary here," Adara said. "Our slaves know their place. The few ropes and the gag serve merely as a symbolic reminder of their subjugation. They will serve you until they fall from exhaustion, and when they wake, they will start over again."

"But what if they try to untie themselves and run away?" Daphne asked curiously.

Adara smirked. "Then they run away, and we catch them. But it is not us who should be fearing our slaves; it is our slaves who should be fearing our whips. They are punished quite severely, I can assure you. Before long, they stop trying to escape and accept their fate. Fear is a better bond than rope."

Adara never said so, but Penelope could tell she was suspicious of Serena. The young blonde from the Household of the Celtic Knot had once been Adara's captor, then her nemesis, then her captive. But now she was an ally in a cause for which she had less to gain than if she remained a foe. She was currently the heiress to all of Thessaly, yet sided with those who would take that from her. Adara didn't need to voice her concerns to Penelope - the captain had them too.

The squadron of Spartan soldiers guarding the palace entrance let them through without so much as a second glance. Is this the confidence of the Empress, Penelope thought, that She admits strangers into Her royal home without confiscating their whips?

But it seemed Empress Sappho's confidence was justified. Her throne room looked more like a whorehouse than most whorehouses. The white marble floors were covered in lounging slaves, each more beautiful than the last. Spartan elders were dispersed amongst the orgy, five partially-bound slaves to every soldier. There was a Spartan hand groping every breast and a slave's tongue between every Spartan's pair of legs. They were a rapacious lot, like a pack of hungry wolves toying with a flock of obedient sheep.

Above them all sat the Spartan Empress on a throne carved from a single marble block with a young slave girl chained at the collar to each of the four corners. Sappho was a mature monarch with a permanent scowl and some defined creases in the corners of Her eyes. Her hair was mane of jet black, all but for a streak of silver at right temple. She bore the Spartan physique with equal parts regality and ferocity.

There was no steward so Penelope introduced herself and her companions. "Your Grace, my name is Penelope of the Household of the Scylla, a Thessalian exile. This is Daphne, my loyal companion also of my Household; Serena of the Household of the Celtic Knot; and Adara, a trusted friend from a past life. I beg Your assistance in matters of war."

Empress Sappho appeared to be more interested by the contents of Her silver goblet. "War?" She said after a long pause. She seemed to lick the word as it rolled off Her tongue. "And what would I have to gain from your war against Queen Titania?"

"You gain the wealth of security, land, slaves-"

"Look around you! Have you been blindfolded your entire time in My lands?"

Well, Penelope thought, briefly in the whorehouse. But she said nothing and let the Empress continue.

"Do I seem insecure to you? Do you feel unsafe here? No enemy has descended on Sparta in hundreds of years. We have no walls because we do not need them. Our foes never get close enough."

"Your Grace, I did not mean to offend-"

"I'm speaking," Sappho said. Her dark eyes made clear it was a threat. Without intending, Penelope had invoked the Empress' wrath. "Does Sparta look crowded to you? Is this room so packed that we're rubbing tits? No. We don't need more land." She rose from Her throne. "Slaves? To try to win My favour with slaves was your greatest offence, Thessalian."

Penelope could feel her cheeks growing red. It was like the lectures her mother used to give her. "Your Grace, I did not mean to offend. Would it sway Your mind to learn that Queen Adrianne of Crete plans to join Titania's alliance?"

"No," the Empress said bluntly. "Adrianne is a coward. Literally, a trumped up cow herder. If she steps one foot in My land, I'll personally hogtie the bitch and throw her in with the rest of Sparta's livestock."

"Your Grace, I don't think You're aware of the larger pict-"

"Silence!" Sappho snapped. "I've heard enough. Do not presume to treat Me like a fool. Spartans! A gag and some rope for our guest."

The captain couldn't believe it. This was turning out exactly the same as the audience with Queen Adrianne. A Spartan soldier shoved a red linen rag into her mouth and tied it off under the fall of Penelope's bronze hair. They pulled her arms behind her and tied her wrists while her companions looked on, not knowing how to react. Penelope didn't struggle and urged the ever-loyal Daphne not to do anything impulsive. Angering the Empress further would do nothing good for their situation.

"And don't you dare try to interrupt me again or not even Hera could save you," the Empress threatened. Penelope decided it was best to concede for the sake of her friends. Sappho stepped down from Her dais and came face-to-face with Penelope, looking down on her. Her royal breasts were of a height with the captain's shoulders.

"Wine!" Sappho called, extending Her arm. A moment later, a slave with hands bound in-front placed in Her hand a new goblet filled to the brim with rich red. But the wine was for making a point rather than drinking. The Empress of Sparta poured the goblet over the slave who'd given it to Her. The brown-haired woman merely shut her eyes and allowed the liquid to wash over head. "You've made a mess," Sappho informed the woman. "Lick it up."

The slave obeyed without hesitation or sign of humiliation. She began licking her arms and sucked on her hair, but couldn't reach most of her body where the red wine was still present on her skin due her confined wrists.

"No, no, no," the Empress tutted. "You've missed your face and your tits." She took the flagon of wine from the slave's hand and drenched her thin patch of pubic hair. "Oh dear, and you've missed your crotch too." She signalled for three more slaves to rise from the orgy on the floor. "Help this one clean herself off. Tongues only."

And right there in the middle of the Spartan throne room, a slave was licked completely clean of wine - from the peaks of her nipples to the tips of her toes. Not a single hair on her head or between her legs was missed. The slaves obeyed their Empress to the word.

Sappho's dark gaze met Penelope's eyes. "We Spartans do not buy slaves. We win them in glorious battle. Every slave in this room was taken, not traded. All but this one covered in wine. She was a princess of Thessaly once, did you know, the sister of Queen Astrid, gifted to Me in tribute. That is the respect I command and the awe that I inspire, that queens send Me princesses to pour My wine. You see, Thessalian, I have no need for more slaves. I refuse your plea now as I refused it when Adara spoke on your behalf." Sappho returned to Her throne, snatching another goblet of wine along the way. "If none of your companions have anything to say, then get out of My sight. You taint this orgy with your weakness."

With Penelope still gagged and the Empress unwilling to hear her, there was nothing left she could say. Ever loyal, Daphne stepped up to the role.

"Your Grace," the redhead said, "if the Celt invades, she'll enslave every freewoman who stands in her way. Sparta's greatest soldiers will be reduced to the level these helots and forced to serve Trojans as pieces of furniture. The whole world will know of Sparta's defeat and never again will the city's name strike fear into the hearts of your enemies."

Penelope felt oddly proud of her sister-in-arms, but Sappho was not as easily swayed.

"If!" the Empress spat. She pulled over Her lap one of the slaves chained to Her throne and began harassing one of the girl's nipples to make it hard. "If they invade. No queen, however thirsty for power, would ever dare attack us. They'd have to be utter fools. I'm feared and venerated throughout all of Greece and nothing you've told Me of this usurper suggests her to be fool enough to provoke My wrath. I've been pillaging and raping since you were babes at your mothers' tits. If Titania invades, I'll have won Myself a new slave to pour My wine."

Daphne tried again, unwilling to accept the Empress' dismissal. "This is really unbefitting of Your reputation. I was always told that Sparta was powerful. Was I wrong?"

Penelope felt her heart drop. That was the wrong thing to say. "Dmphn, shmm hmmf!"

Indeed, it made the Spartan Empress quite unhappy. "Sparta's power is as loud as the crack of My whip, as wide as the girth of My net and as far as the reach of My bolas. No more, no less. We Spartans do not pretend to be what we are not, nor do we attempt to win support with flattery or fear or trickery. Spartans! Bind and gag the redhead!"

And then Daphne joined Penelope in mute bondage. The redhead's hands twitched terribly as she forced herself not to struggle too much. As much as she hated being tied up, she knew the punishment would be far less tolerable than a simple wrist tie and a cleave gag.

With both Penelope and Daphne gagged and bound, that only left Adara the Spartan and Serena to make the plea, neither of which filled Penelope with confidence. She was beginning to understand why the slaves in this city didn't need to be heavily tied up to feel completely helpless.

And yet, Serena stepped forward. "Your Grace, if I may speak?"

Penelope was expecting another furious response, but the Empress seemed to regard Serena differently. "You may, blonde," Sappho replied, "You wield a Spartan's voluptuous body, even if the blood of barbarians does flow through your veins. But spare Me your begging, your flattery and your tricks."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Serena bowed. She had that devious look in her eyes that reminded Penelope too much of the Celt. "While Your Grace has won many slaves in glorious battle, surely the same is not true for many of Sparta's youths. When was the last war campaign? There must be a few hundred Spartan girls fresh from their training who are keen to show their prowess in battle and be rewarded with their own cup-bearers and bedwarmers. If Your Grace will not lend us the might of Sparta's fist, perhaps She will lend us the support of a finger."

"No Spartan army has ever waged war without the leadership of their empress, and I have no intention of going to war."

Serena nodded a smile. "Nor was I suggesting as such, Your Grace. But just as the youths must learn soldiery in the heat of battle, so too must a princess learn how to become an empress worthy of the respect of Sparta and the known world."

Gagged and bound, Penelope could only wonder what tricks Serena was up to.

Stranger still, Sappho was giving it some thought. After having pinched the slave's nipple into a peak to rival Mount Olympus, the Empress answered. "My daughter is still young and has not seen a war, it is true. She is yet to win herself some slaves. But no Spartan bows to the word of a foreigner's command. They are not worthy to give us orders."

Penelope was confused. Who's Sappho's daughter and why is Serena trying to bargain for her? The captain became more confused when the blonde began singing her praises.

"Penelope is no ordinary outsider, Your Grace," Serena said as her pale blue eyes hinted at some low cunning. "In the short time I've spent in her company, I've witnessed her win many glorious victories. She led a revolt against Illyrian pirates, freeing Your Grace's daughter from bondage in doing so. She's commanded a tribe of peasants against those same pirates soon after, defeating them outright using superior tactics. There is a city in Etruria still governed by women because Penelope defeated a phallic slave uprising. Since then, she's fought and beaten Sirens, Cyclopes and Minotaurs. She is kind to her allies and a complete bitch to her enemies, and I should know for I've been both. If Your Grace requires proof of her worthy character, I am her greatest champion."

'...freeing Your Grace's daughter from bondage?' But the only Spartan I've freed was... Adara?! She's a princess?! "Hmmph?"

The Empress laughed. "Ha! Her champion? Are we planning to have a battle right here? We'd have to make room amongst the orgy."

"I shall prove Penelope's worth with a trial by combat. I challenge Adara to a duel."

That made Sappho quite serious. She leaned forward, resting the point of Her elbow on Her slave's other nipple. The girl didn't so much as flinch. "You would willingly engage a Spartan in battle? And a princess, at that. Are you a complete fool?"

"I have been called many things in my life, but a fool is not one of them. If I beat Adara, Penelope will lead the Spartan youths into battle, the princess included."

The Empress tightly pinched the slave's nipple between thumb and forefinger, and still the collared girl remained silent. Sappho grinned like a cat with a mouse between its claws. "And when you lose?"

The blonde returned the grin. There was cunning behind those sharp teeth. "Then Adara will have earned her first slave."

Continued in Chapter 26

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