Sacrifice Ch. 06

He was taunting her. She could hear it in his voice. His fingers were still moving inside of her, and her body was responding far more readily than she was comfortable with. "Well?" He pressed, with an uncharacteristic edge to his voice.

"No." She finally whispered. "No, I'm not sure." She waited for him to press her again, to further her embarrassment by making her admit the humiliating truth, a truth so obvious to them both as he plied her with his fingers and as she began to buck uncontrollably against them.

But, apparently, that had been a satisfactory answer and he released her wrists completely.

He moved away and as she turned her head she saw him straddle the couch behind her, his wrap discarded. Taking his cock in hand, he guided it towards her now slick folds. She closed her eyes again and groaned as she felt it make contact. It was as if a shock of lightening had flown straight up her spine only to explode somewhere in the back of her skull. Her eyes shot open again when a rough hand came down against her ass cheek even as the probing head of his cock forced its way inside of her with an indelicate surge.

The mix of sensations set off another explosion...this time much, much lower.

At another time, in another moment, she might have called it a climax. But it was too different, and she was too distracted by the new bloom of pain erupting across her skin, and by the heavy cock thrusting firmly inside of her to contemplate it. She could hardly think or do anything at that point. It was too different from any previous experience to be made sense of...or at least so much more than any other experience...

Too much. It was simply too much.

It was as if she lost all sense of time and place. As if she had slipped into some other space, some other way of being. To be completely in her body, completely inside the sensations...and yet removed as if watching from the outside, feeling everything and nothing.

There was nothing...nothing but the hot persistent throbbing along and under her skin, and a matching pulses of pleasure echoing from within. Deep within. He was there as well, pounding into her, spreading and impaling her. It seemed each time he filled her anew, another explosion went off inside of her, making her contract around him...but then perhaps that was the pain she was feeling...it was impossible to tell.

There was a voice, like a distant storm, coming from somewhere outside of her, but she couldn't make sense of it. The of her own labored breathing filling her head and blocking everything else out.

She couldn't be sure how much more she could take. Every second that passed, every thrust, pushed her that much further past whatever edge she had long ago plunged over.

She hardly realized it when he stopped. Not until she felt the palm of his hand pressed lightly against the small of her back and a trickle of cold sweat running up her spine...and the wetness between her legs... which was more than just her own.

Calliope blinked her eyes open, but they were blurred with tears and she was still resting her forehead on the couch. She could feel his hand, dimly through the red ache, as it caressed over her backside and thighs. The muscles of her legs trembled and she found herself unable to muster the energy to lift herself from her penitent position. She did manage to turn her head so that she could catch him in her sight.

He was breathing hard himself, staring down at her as he ran a hand up and down the length of her back. Despite the throb of pain and the involuntary shaking in her limbs, she felt herself calmed and soothed by his touch.

He knelt beside her.

One hand threaded into her hair, pulling her face up to his, the other ran gentle fingers over her cheek. Her heart pounded high and fast in her chest.

His mouth was light against hers, and his tongue almost tentative as it teased at her lips. She parted them and met his tongue with her own.

"You still taste like wine." He murmured. She managed a shaky smile as he pulled away to look into her watery eyes.

"Girl-shaped cup." she whispered. Her voice horse and uneven.

He chuckled and reached around her, pulling her limp, damp body against his. She was amazed at how cool his skin felt. Cool and damp, she noticed. It matched the shiver inducing dampness glazing her own body. "Woman-shaped" he corrected against her hair as he hefted her up into his arms. He grunted, "Name one 'girl' you know who could handle me half as well as you?"

She wrapped her arms weakly, around his neck and buried her equally weak smile against his neck. She was grateful he'd lifted her...she wasn't sure she could have walked if she tried. "I can't." She murmured.

"Damn right you can't."

It was hard to tell if he was bragging or trying to give her a compliment. Probably both she decided with a sleepy yawn.

She could hardly believe how exhausted she felt. It was as if she'd swam the length of the Greek sea. Those parts of her which didn't ache were as heavy as lead weights. She couldn't even find the energy to be upset or confused about what had just transpired. She just felt...comfortably numb. Well, save for the persistent throb in her backside.

She was even more grateful when she was lowered, rather gently, onto the bed and covered. She felt another smile twitch at the corners of her lips as their sweat-slicked bodies pressed and tangled together under the light sheets and she used the last remnants of her strength to slide a foot along the length of one of his thickly muscled calves.

He growled appreciatively against her shoulder, making the expenditure of the last bits of energy well worth it.

She hadn't come out unscathed, but it appeared her plan to ease his mind had worked, even if it had admittedly slipped well out of her control.

At least, it had mostly worked. He was certainly much calmer now she noted, but she could still feel a strange tension in him. It was radiating from him, like a palpable aura and it kept her from drifting off to sleep as she desperately longed to do.

"Master...are you alright?" she asked after ignoring the tension became impossible. It was a silly question, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. She wasn't awake enough to think straight, never mind be clever.

"No."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No." Forthcoming as always.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

That, at least, earned her a chuckle. "You already are." He shifted, nestling his softened cock into her still heated backside and stroked the palm of his hand against the plane of her belly. "Now go to sleep." He muttered against her ear.

That did sound like an excellent idea. But still..."You'd feel better if you talked about it."

"Calliope..." he warned.

She smiled into her pillow. "Fine. I'll go to sleep."

They both fell silent and eventually she drifted off. She couldn't be sure, but somewhere in that gray haze before true sleep she could have sworn she felt cool breath against her ear and a distant voice whispering something softly into it.

She thought at the end she heard a pause and a soft and barely audible "thank you."

But she couldn't be sure.

@@@

"Calliope" a voice hissed softly behind her, making her start and turn.

"For pities sake Penelope, you scared me witless."

Penelope smiled and surprised her by leaning in and giving her a quick hug. "You were perfect...they loved it. My owner has already had two inquiries. Both other slavers, "she amended with a shrug, "but they seemed very interested. Now I just have to keep up the interest...which is where you come in again." She grinned and Calliope felt her stomach knot.

"Ah, I'm not so sure..."

"Don't fret, I'm looking only for advice."

Well, she thought, it couldn't hurt to help in that way. "Alright." She agreed.

Penelope clapped her hands together delightedly and took Calliopes arm, guiding her down the hall. "The first thing we need to discuss is what I owe you for this."

She shook her head. "There's nothing..." she paused, suddenly thinking of something. Why waste the opportunity after all. "Well, you're not obliged of course, but if you'd like, There is something you could do for me. I'm rather concerned about the state of affairs regarding why my master has been brought here. If...I was wondering if you hear anything, about him, or about the one they are searching for, if you would be so kind as to tell me?"

Penelope's smile took on a 'knowing' quality. "Is this for your edification, or his?"

She considered that. "Both," she answered eventually. "What benefits my master, benefits me."

"That isn't always the case." Penelope's eyes glinted but she still nodded in agreement. "I shall keep my eyes and ears open."

They wound through the halls quickly, passing that blasted statue of Persephone which always gave her a pang, and very soon came to the rooms where she and the other girls were staying.

"Don't worry, we'll be the only ones here." Penelope whispered as they slipped into the rooms. They were rather different from her master's. There was an open common room, surrounded by a number of doorways, beyond which rows of cots could been seen. It looked like the slave quarters in her own home...or rather her father's home. Of course this one was larger and more elegant, but that was to be expected.

She was led into one of the back rooms. Penelope deposited herself before a bench littered with cosmetics and polished mirrors and gestured to one of the cots.

"You have a seat and get to thinking. I'll show you some ideas I had for makeup, perhaps it will inspire us. I was thinking something a little more dramatic...darker maybe..." She trailed off and began shuffling through the pots and brushes looking for something in particular.

Calliope glanced around the room, taking in the various paintings on the walls. They were mostly erotic, the sort you'd find in private bedrooms. Images of Aphrodite and Adonis, Leda, Europa, Eros and Psyche ...and Persephone, eternally ravished by Hades. And we all know where that leads, she thought morosely. Though it was ironic that a goddess of fertility never had children of her own. She winced again at the reminder and glanced back to Penelope.

Although she barely knew her, Penelope was really the only one Calliope had to ask about these sort of things. Demitri she trusted, implicitly...but he was, in the end, a man. He would simply dismiss her concerns...understandably since as a man, they couldn't be thoughts that would ever plague him. She couldn't say if she could trust Penelope, but she was at least a woman, a woman trapped in the same world as she...trapped simply because they were women. She decided to ask.

"Penelope?"

"Hmm?" The soft, round face turned up to smile at her, the paintbrush she used to color her lips pausing mid swipe.

"Have you ever had children?" The hand holding the brush dropped to the table upon which her many and various cosmetics sat and her mouth dropped almost as low.

"Children?!" She laughed musically. "You must be mad. Who would want a dancing girl who'd been knocked up? It'll ruin your figure you know."

She didn't wait for a response and lifted the brush back to her lips, carefully drawing it along the bottom curve of her lip.

"So do you use something then?"

"Use?"

"I've heard there are things one can eat or drink that prevent it."

"Ah, yes. Most do, as far as I can tell. Even if we didn't use them I've heard that the divine ones insist on it for their human slaves and servants. Apparently they aren't keen on diluting their blood line with human blood if they don't have to."

"I see."

Penelope paused again and turned to look at her, setting the polished mirror on the little table before her. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. I...was thinking of finding something to use.."

"For prevention, or to solve a present dilemma?"

Calliope blinked in surprise. That wasn't even an option she'd considered...and as she did, she realized she didn't want to. The thought made her blood turn to ice. "Oh...ah...to prevent...in the future."

Penelope stared at her long and hard, her eyes searching Calliope's face. After a tense moment for Calliope, she merely shrugged and picked up her mirror once more. "I can have something sent to your room later if you like. I don't know how to concoct the stuff myself, but I hear there are all sorts of herbs one can use. I just use what I'm given. I warn you now, it does taste like hell."

"That's very kind of you."

She shrugged. "It's the least I can do."

"I don't know how my master will react to a child, and it worries me." She admitted softly.

"It's different for everyone. My first master was somewhat unusual in that it didn't seem to bother him much when a slave turned up pregnant. Many human masters are careful to keep slaves from getting pregnant, as there's no guarantee the mother or child will survive. As I'm sure you know it's cheaper in the long run to purchase new slaves, or take them as prizes in battle, than to rear them up. I was a house born slave myself."

Calliope knew this to be true and nodded. "Your parents were slaves then?"

"My mother was. She was a household slave."

"Who was you father?"

She could see the smirk on Penelope's face in the reflection of the mirror. "A king. But you'd be surprised how many slaves can claim something similar. And really who in this world isn't a slave? Citizens. That's it."

Calliope had to chuckle at that. "Freemen."

"Over thirty."

"And holding land."

Penelope chuckled as well at that. "And for every master, how many slaves?" She continued.

"We had fewer than many families, but still at least thirty if you count field workers.

"You were wealthy once then?"

"Not extremely, but respectable enough."

"Were you taken in war?"

"No. Traded to my master as part of a gift."

"Hm. That's unfortunate."

"It's not so bad."

"No, the most can be made of our circumstances sometimes if we're cunning enough, but it's still unfortunate that you had to lose your status."

"I imaging in some ways it wasn't much different than being given in marriage. I even have more freedom as a slave. As a wife I couldn't be alone with men, slaves or not, nor could I leave the house unescorted. I would be prisoner in my home, under constant guard. In some ways my new life has been...liberating. And I have been fortunate to have the master I do."

"Yes, but your sons at least would be born free, and have a chance to remain that way, if the gods so will it. Which is an easier proposition than trying to work your way back to freedom, hoping your master will be so generously inclined to free you."

"It's very frustrating."

"Yes." She turned and tilted her head back and to the side, sweeping one arm up over her head and holding it in a dramatic pose, her eyes rolling slowly and alluringly toward her, strikingly bright against the background of coal, and her glistening red lips parting slightly in a silent gasp, reminding Calliope vaguely of sex.

"How do I look?"

"Terrifying."

Penelope laughed and lowered her arm. "But beautiful?"

"Of course."

"Good." She rose and posed again, her hands on her hips,"Listen. I expect nothing, but you've helped once already, and to my great benefit, so I am going to ask if you will help me again."

"With what exactly? If you need me to play..."

She shook her head "No, now the musicians are willing to do business, provided they get a cut of my percentage...which is natural."

"That's not very kind of them."

"Of course it's not, but fully expected, and they asked for less than I was willing to pay, so I'm ahead really. My problem now is that I need something...extra to really close the deal this time. There are so many fine dancers who are more beautiful and just as talented as I am, so I need to find a way to get noticed."

"With your dancing?"

"There, or wherever."

Calliope frowned, pondering the issue, trying to think of what her sister would recommend in a situation like this, but coming up with very little. "I suppose we should evaluate whose performances are the most engaging and go from that point. Who did you like?"

"Usually it's the really exotic dances that get the most interest...and that's my problem."

"Well, I can't help there, but my sister always asserted that a good dance should be a story, if it is meant to be entertaining to others that is. So why don't we think of a story to tell...preferably something with some variety--"

"--and sex, mustn't forget that..."

She chuckled and sighed. "Yes, that too." She glanced around the room and caught the image of Persephone which had been plaguing her. Now there was a thought. "You should be Persephone, it would suit your looks and your dancing style perfectly. You could begin as you normally do," she smirked, "half naked and with your regular style, and then half way though you can wear a dark veil over your hair, and wrap yourself in it and change your style of dance to match." She grinned.

"In fact my sister had a dance which would be perfect...it was very slow and used no music whatsoever, but whenever she did it, the room would go so quiet and everyone would watch her so carefully. I dare say it was probably just the one that caught her husband. It's dramatic, but not too long as to drag on."

Persephone gave her a mawkish grin of her own. "You know, that's not half bad. Cutting the music could be very dramatic. Show me the dance."

"Ah, well I'm not much of a dancer, so you'll have to bear with me. Here, give me those bells." she gestured to a string on small bells tossed on the counter.

Calliope wrapped them around her left ankle. "So you don't need music, but the bells do help keep the attention of the audience." She straightened and stood perfectly still and straight, her head level and eyes forward, took a deep breath, then began to move— a slow, sliding walk. She was careful not to let the bells sound until she was ready for them to.

The dance was excruciatingly slow, but it was always one of her favorites. The lines were always so long, which suited her lankier build and long legs, and the arm movements were careful and graceful rather than a flurry of moving flesh and jewels. It was proud and elegant. A dance suitable for the queen of the dead. Another thought occurred to her as well...it was suitable for an experienced woman comfortable in her own body, rather than an excited girl just discovering how to use it...and made her glad she'd suggested it. It seemed perfect suited to the role.

"If you're wearing a dress that opens at the side then the legs look better...obviously." She commented as she shifted one leg quickly, causing the bells to tinkle. "You can always alter the movements to suit your own style...but the pauses are the most important part." She rose up slowly to her toes and lifted her arms over her head as she bent ever so slightly backward, turning her head to the side. "See?" She held the pose, then let it fall into a few quick steps which fell again into another slow walk and leg extending turn.

She finished the dance silently, then turned and smiled at Penelope who stared back silently. "So? What do you think? Would it be useful to you?"

Penelope took a deep breath and tented her fingers before her mouth. "You have to do it." she said finally.

"What?"

"You have to do it."

Calliope stared at her, trying to figure out if she was jesting with her. She appeared to be perfectly sincere. "Penelope...I...I just can't. You're not serious are you?"

"Deadly serious. You have to. You must. It's perfect. I have to have it...but I can't do that. Not without more time to prepare."

She shook her head. "Penelope I've seen you. You're very good, and this is so much simpler than what I've seen you do...and it needn't be exact."