A Tale of Ties and Binds - Chapter 4

Chapter 4. A Present of Pleasures

Penelope was woken by a knock on her chamber door. A lithe young handmaiden from Rhodes poked her head through the threshold. "I beg your pardon, Mistress. There is a guest waiting downstairs who bears the royal sigil." She disappeared just as quickly as she came.

After rising from her bed and running her fingers through her long cherry-red hair, Penelope then wondered what to wear. A representative of the Queen's household was an important guest, but would it be better to don a casual chiton or the more official armour fitting of her matriarchal position? She chose the armour - bronze bracers and matching grieves, a tight boiled leather bodice which perked her breasts flatteringly, and a studded skirt with serpent head rivets.

Penelope caught a glimpse of her visitors through a small window on her way to greet them. Her guest had been escorted by a small host of royal guards in full bronze armour and a wheelhouse of black and silver ornament - the colours of the Household of the Whip and therefore the Queen's direct property. Down the stairs in the hall, the royal steward who had greeted her yesterday morning at the docks was waiting patiently in the centre of the room. Like yesterday, the short girl wore a purple chiton with her mistress' sigil, wore her hair in a braid that was no doubt intended to imitate the Queen's, and her hands were chained behind her back in the fashion of handmaidens serving wealthy mistresses. It didn't seem to bother her at all as she stood perfectly straight, slowly sliding her bare feet through the fur rugs on the floor. Penelope greeted the girl with respect. Though technically a slave, the steward still belonged to the Queen and had more power than many lowborn freewomen.

"Good morning, Captain Penelope. The Queen has generously sent us to award you with a gift; a token of gratitude for the recent battle on Lesbos, and a taste of things to come should you be made general of the Thessalian Army and Taker of Captives." The short girl clapped her hands behind her back and a pair of guards outside opened the door to the wheelhouse. One of the guards took hold of an iron chain leash and yanked the occupant into the morning light.

Thank the goddesses!

The Queen, in all Her infinite wisdom and generosity, had sought fit to gift Penelope a phallic slave - and quite a handsome one too. He had chiselled abs and a chest as hard and defined as two slates of marble. The lower half of his face was covered by a thick and bristly black beard (which Penelope imagined would tickle her relentlessly between the thighs when he honoured her) and a clean-shaven head. Both arms and both legs were heavily muscled, such that he resembled one of the gods as they were shown in their statues. All this was merely complementary to the serpent between his legs, barely containable by the comparatively miniscule loincloth; a broad snake as long as his hand, and it wasn't even reared to show its true size. The guard tugged harder on her chain and led the phallic slave by the neck into the house to stand beside the royal steward.

"Queen Astrid understands that the Household of the Scylla does not possess a phallic slave at this time. The birth name of this one is long forgotten, Captain, but Her Grace has cleverly named him Logical Phallusy as a reference to his Athenian birth," said the steward with a bow.

"Athenian?" Penelope asked. "Do you mean this is one of the Queen's first phallic slaves? Is this what the Athenians exchanged for one of Her Grace's enslaved sisters?"

The steward smiled warmly and bowed, her chained hands jingling quietly. "You are wise as well as beautiful, Captain."

Yes, and if the Queen has given me a gift, then She has given one to the Household of the Celtic Knot too. I have the Athenian, so the Celt must have the Spartan. Queen Astrid is sure to have restocked her throne with fresh meat. "Tell Her Grace that I humbly accept her gift and will pray to the goddesses to bless Her with many captives in the future. If that is all, you may leave us."

The steward and her royal escort took their leave with an empty wheelhouse trailing behind them while Penelope's sisters-in-arms entered the hall. They were already excited at the chance to spend the day exploring the slave markets, dungeons and whorehouses of the city, but their jaws dropped at the site of the phallic slave standing chained in the centre of the room. His collar was removed by some Scylla handmaidens (who were all just as excited in his presence) and his hands drawn behind him and bound with thick leather ropes. Alexis the Binder's smile was the widest, though her nipples weren't showing as visibly as Daphne's. The redhead licked her lips covetously, no doubt wanting a turn as soon as possible and already writing a mental list of all her great deeds to share with her matriarch. Penelope's beautiful younger sister, Lydia, looked hungrily at the phallic slave but was trying her best not to show any emotion, and all the rest of Penelope's sisters-in-arms giggled and shoved each other aside to get a better look at the meat before them.

"Lydia," Penelope said, "I've decided to send our sisters to the whorehouses and the slave markets for extra information about the traitor. I'm leaving you in charge of them for the day."

The look on Lydia's face was one of worry - not a face she often wore. "Me? Captain, I'd be better placed at your side today. Alexis the Binder would make an excellent-"

"Lydia! You shall lead. You're more than capable, sister." Why is she so intent on staying? Of course, realised Penelope, she wants a turn after me. You'll have your turn, sister, just be patient. "Queen Astrid has sent me a gift and it would be most rude of me not to... enjoy it as soon as possible."

With that, the sisters-in-arms donned their leather armour and headed down the dirt roads and towards the city, through fields of working slave girls and past caravans of new merchandise. Penelope ordered her handmaidens to prepare her gift and they enthusiastically complied, giggling and ogling the endowment as they pulled him along. Penelope took this chance to once again thank the goddesses for their favour.

If his hand-sized limp meat was impressive, Penelope was beside herself at the sight of him bound spread across her bed. All others of his sex would be ashamed to be surpassed by such a meat. His was a piece that would make horses feel competitive. She unclipped herself from her bodice and gave the phallic slave a good look at his new mistress, and it was such a nice gesture of his that he should rise even further at the sight of her naked form. Penelope was a beautiful matriarch in her own right; a generous but not unwieldy bust, hair the colour of cherries that graced just past her shoulders and licked the tips of her nipples, an oval face of smooth skin and a heart-shaped backside. Logical Phallusy was obviously quite happy with his new mistress.

It resembled horse riding more than anything, which was fitting. The up and down motion, bouncing at her knees and shifting from side to side as if to regain balance. The Household of the Scylla had traded their last phallic slave for an entire shipment of Thracians during the last major war several years ago, when Penelope's mother was Matriarch and Queen Astrid was still a princess. He had given Penelope her first ride and she was ever so sad when he was traded. She made sure to fill the gap with all her new handmaidens in the most literal sense possible. But now she had a new riding partner, and a chance to create progeny and continue her household.

Penelope came with force. She hadn't had a proper release since before the army left for Lesbos, and that was nearly a moon's turn ago. The slave below her strained every fleshy muscle in his body as he dutifully exploded in tune with his mistress, his arms and legs pulling tight against the leather ropes pinning him to the bed. "This slave thanks you for the opportunity to fill you with his seed, Mistress," he announced. Such a well-trained piece of meat.

"If you serve me this well every time, I foresee a wonderful future ahead of you," replied Penelope. She wouldn't trade this one any time soon. Without dismounting his weapon because she enjoyed the gooey sensation it left inside her, Penelope thought this would be as good a time as any to discuss her problems. "You are aware of the mission the Queen has given me?"

"This slave understands, Mistress. This slave hears many things from inside the throne." The Queens of Greece possess hollow leather thrones that are large enough to fit a phallic slave inside. Their meat is inserted through a hole in the throne's lap on which their monarch sits regally.

Swaying her hips in a circular motion, Penelope asked, "What sort of things?"

"A range of things, Mistress. This slave was in the throne when the General was stripped of armour and rank, and when Mistress was offered the position. This slave was present when Matriarch Titania of the Household of the Celtic Knot was offered the same position. This slave heard it all."

What else could he know? Penelope leaned down and rested herself against his muscular chest, looking straight into his bearded face. "And before then? Before the Thessalian Army left to take the Isle of Lesbos from the Trojans, what did you hear? Was there anything unusual?"

"Nothing unusual, Mistress. The usual foreign diplomats to discuss matters of state with Her Grace, the same visits from Matriarch Titania of the Household of the Celtic Knot, the same war councils with General Cassia of the Household of the Trident, and the same sittings on the throne to please Her Grace."

"The Celt? What business did she have with the Queen?" Surely her slave dealings would be made in the markets. Maybe the city council, at most.

"Matriarch Titania had no business with Her Grace, Mistress. Her Grace was rarely in attendance for the Matriarch's visits. The Matriarch would visit her tribute." To pay homage to the Queen, each household in Thessaly sent Her a tribute who was neither slave nor captive. They hung naked in chains from the columns in the throne room as symbols of their household's loyalty to the crown, and the Queen would often take Royal liberties with them using Her collection of orgasm-inducing toys.

The Celt speaks with her tribute? I don't even know what my tribute looks like, thought Penelope. Could the Celt really be using her tribute as a spy on the Queen? But that would make her... a traitor. She's a famous warrioress and the wealthiest matriarch in Thessaly. What would she have to gain? And then all the pieces of the puzzle in Penelope's mind fell into place. Goddesses! She told the Trojans we were launching our ships, and that's why the surprise attack failed. They had time to supply the outpost with a larger and better equipped garrison. And she escaped the battle with no losses, but managed to take captives as gifts for the Queen. Now that I think back, I don't even remember seeing the Celt fighting. Were the gifts more spies for the Queen's harem? And after the retreat, we all knew General Cassia would be replaced. And who better to replace her than the only matriarch to gift Her Grace with captives while having none taken by the enemy. As the new General, the Celt would hold both the army and the economy in her hands. She would be the most powerful woman in Thessaly after the Queen. But how long would that last? And what of this agreement between the Celt and the Trojans? There are too many coincidences and too much at risk. I must inform the Queen!

"You've served me well, Logical Phallusy," said Penelope as she hastily rose from her slave and cleaned herself off. She donned her armour, her weapons and her sandals and called for her handmaidens to saddle a horse. The Queen and all of Thessaly are in danger.

Continued in Chapter 5