Carpe Diem Ch. 02

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They came, they conquered...
2.7k words
4.48
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/07/2011
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They came and took down the village chief swiftly; destroyed a sixty-year-old village, without warning. Once the leader was dispatched, the Imperial Soldiers of Emora began to make their way through the village people. The old and sick were immediately annihilated and their bodies were taken to the river for a watery grave.

They seemed to be looking for something and after two hours of pillaging, it became clear. Only the young were spared, male and female alike. They were put in separate cages, like animals. Some wives and husbands tried to reach for each other through the solid steel bars, but when the metal didn't give way, and their fingers didn't touch, they were reduced to crying; true wailing. Praying for a solution, or a faster way home to their gods in the afterlife.

The soldiers gathered five young girls and held them in what was once the Chieftain's hut. Skins of leopard and tiger covered the walls of the hut, for decorative purposes. Animal blubber lined the cutout windows to prevent drafts. There was a mass of pillows and sheets in the middle of the room, where most of the girls chose to sit on, crying, as they awaited their fates.

One girl- the only one with golden skin and black hair that cascaded down her shoulders in thick spirals- had her head bent in shame; eyes dry. She was more concerned that the soldiers had ripped off her tribal sari, a sign of her virginity and devotion to the gods, leaving her naked and exposed.

A soldier with hands as grimy as they were rough slapped her cheek and gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at his slightly scarred face. He would have been handsome if not for the sneer that curled his thin lips. He said something to her in his foreign language. Layla stared at him blankly. The soldiers close enough to hear smirked at her lasciviously, giving her a clue to what the soldier had said.

The man in front of her repeated himself, and this time reached out and grabbed her firm breast in his dirty palm. Layla shrieked and pulled herself out of his grip in disgust, stumbling and falling onto the bed of pillows next to the other girls, who quickly scooted out of the way in fear.

The soldier laughed and took a step towards her, teasing. When Layla flinched slightly, he chuckled again and began walking toward her, malicious intent clear. As he came closer, Layla panicked and did the first thing she could think of.

She spat in his face.

The soldier stood frozen as her saliva dripped down his face, and the room was silent, everyone watching the scene in anticipation.

Someone broke the silence by laughing, which proved to be contagious amongst the soldiers, as they all one by one started laughing.

The soldier in front of her growled something angrily in his language and leapt forward, ready to grab for her throat when someone pushed him aside, knocking him off balance. The soldiers guffawed loudly as the intruder shouted at the floor bound soldier, scolding him.

Layla stared in part fascination at the man who had just intercepted what could have been a very violent scene. He wasn't too tall, but he was broad along the shoulders. He had unruly tufts of blond hair on his head, none of the likes she had seen among her fellow clansmen. He had a handsome face, not yet worried with lines of aging.

His eyes, which she saw when he turned his attention back to her, were a vibrant hazel. He bent down closer to her and whispered, "Promise me you won't spit into Alex's face anymore."

Blinking owlishly in surprise, she nodded slowly.

The man with hazel eyes smiled. "I'm Hadrian, what is your name?" "Layla." One of the soldiers grunted in annoyance and muttered something. Hadrian turned his eyes in that direction and snapped at him. The other man quieted.

Layla glanced at the other girls, who were watching her also and gathered the courage to ask, "What is going to happen to us?"

Hadrian looked weary, as if he wasn't supposed to answer before saying, "Each of you are going to be sent to one of the five districts of Athena. Emperor's orders."

"What will happen to us then?"

"Depends on where you are sent. If you are sent to Eceerga, you are to be a farmer's wife. If you're sent to Emora, you are to be a royal dancer for the Emperor and entertain him and his guests daily," he responded.

Layla paused, thinking about what he said. "What will happen to my people, outside in that- in that cage?"

Hadrian stood and slightly backed away. "That's for us to know, and you to never find out."

She paused, thinking it over.

"Will you be there? In Emora?"

Hadrian smiled again, and she took note of how nice a smile it was. "Yes. I will be."

************

The week following the first dance was hectic, almost never ending.

On day one, when the sun was not yet in the sky, a woman, who was dressed in silky robes, much like the Emperor's, and two guards entered the Dancers' room.

Layla sat up in her pallet, watching the other girls' reactions, which seemed to be ones of reverence. Each girl folded her knees, heads bent; the girl next to Layla hissed at her, implying that she should do the same.

Before she could manage to shake the sleep from her limbs, the woman was walking over towards her; ignoring the girls' offerings.

The woman was older; the thin lines around her eyes and mouth belying her age. Her cheeks were hallowed, yet smooth in texture. Her eyes were a frost blue and her thin lips were painted crimson red.

She was also frowning.

The female barked at her in that strange Emoran language; but it did not take an idiot to know she was less than pleased. She rolled her eyes at Layla and snapped her fingers at her, gesturing for her to stand.

Confused, Layla stood, and followed behind the lady and the guards as they guided her out of the room.

They took her into a cold room, with a solitary wooden bench and candle for light.

"Sit," the woman barked. This time Layla understood. She sat.

Before Layla could even begin to think it, the lady answered, "I did not speak in your native language because the other women would have seen it as a weakness." She quickly pressed her lips together as if she had said too much.

She didn't offer anymore.

"I am Madame Candra. I am in charge of the Royal Dancers. I was the mistress of young Emperor Apollo's father, Marc. I've stayed on to watch over the future dancers and mistresses."

"What does this have to do with me?" Layla asked, before she could stop herself.

Madame Candra smirked. "Everything, darling. Absolutely everything."

*********** Less than three hours later, Layla had her nipple pierced with some silver ring and a cryptic tattoo on her ankle, both marking her as property of Emperor Apollo.

Layla seethed. How dare he place a permanent mark on her body? He was a pathetic excuse for a man; knew nothing other than pillaging, destruction and death. He used them all to make his way to the top and did not care about the people he killed to get there.

So as she lay on her pallet, listening to the sounds of the other girls' slumber, she plotted her revenge.

Emperor Apollo must pay for the lives he took with his own.

She looked at the silver protrusion from her chest and shuddered in disgust.

Yes. He must die.

********

The next day, Madame Candra introduced her to a welcome, familiar face.

"Layla, this is General Hadrian Pictor Cordus. He will be your tutor for as long as you need."

While Layla tried to hide her wide smile, Hadrian walked over to the Madame, kissing her on her hand and whispering something to her that had her blushing a flaming red.

When Madame Candra left, Hadrian turned to her, and she finally allowed herself to smile.

"My lady, what an honor it is to see you again," Hadrian said, smiling back at her. He took her delicate hand into his strong one, and kept eye contact with her as his soft lips met the skin of her hand. Layla gasped before quickly averting her gaze and pulling her hand away.

"If you are a general, why are you tutoring me, a mere slave?"

Hadrian frowned at her use of the word "slave", cleared his throat and walked around her to the desk he had abandoned when he greeted Madame Candra. "I'm the only one, besides the Emperor and Madame, who knows the Tpygean language. The Emperor and Madame are too busy to be able to give you lessons everyday. I guarantee, however, by the end of this week, you will know the ways and language of Emorans. I warn you now that I will not be the most...palatable person, as I have a lot of people who are riding on me to get this task done. I do not like to disappoint." Hadrian's hazel eyes were almost imploring as he looked at her. Layla nodded and offered a shy smile as she showed him her ankle. "Lesson one, what does this tattoo say?"

************ Hadrian stayed true to his word. Layla had come to know some of the customs and laws of Emora, as well as the majority of the language. She was surprised that it wasn't too much unlike that of Tpygea, which helped her learn the words of the land that much faster.

With knowledge comes power, and, now that she was able to understand the language, she could easily comprehend what the other girls had been whispering about for a little over a week.

Apparently, it was mating season in Emora, and everyone, including the Emperor himself, would be looking for a suitable mate. Layla smiled at the circumstance. Maybe if she could get Apollo to care for her, maybe enough to marry her, she could-

One of the hateful girls snapped at her, indicating she get ready for the great party to come. Of course, they were only invited along after the noble women had returned to their chambers and only the men remained, but Layla did not care. Her focus was solely on Apollo.

Layla knew she wasn't the only one who was confused when Madame relayed that the Emperor requested that only she dance at tonight's event.

"Surely you are mistaken?"

Madame Candra rolled her eyes, something that was quickly becoming her signature style. "No, I assure you, I am not. You are the only Layla with 'golden skin and hair as black as night'. Not exactly poetic, but the Emperor has never claimed to be," she said the last as if talking to herself. Coming out of her reverie she snapped, "Come come, we mustn't make him wait." Layla followed behind her with her head bent, the envious stares burning the skin of her back.

******* The applause from the already drunk men sounded through the throne room as Layla finished her dance. As she fought to catch her breath, she noted that Apollo didn't seem too pleased.

He looked especially scrumptious today, even though he was brooding. His jet black hair was an unruly mess atop his head, his green eyes serious as ever. He seemed to have abandoned his usual robes for some...type of clothing that covered him only from the waist down. His expansive chest showed off his robust body, and sinewy abdomen. His body belied the truth; that he was not one of those kings who sent his men to fight for him. He fought with them.

"Surely, you can give my men a better performance than that," he said, his voice deep and demanding.

Layla gritted her teeth. Perhaps if he hadn't made her dance a quintette, she would have given all of her effort in this dance.

"I apologize my lord, what would you have me do?" The men around her shouted lewd things, telling her exactly what they wanted her to do, but Layla ignored them, her eyes remaining on the overgrown child in the grand chair.

Apollo stood, and her eyes briefly widened as she took in his full height. She guessed she would only reach just under his chest. "Take off your clothes," he commanded.

Layla hesitated for a moment before raising her hands to do so. She remembered her lessons with Hadrian and how he warned her that Apollo could conjure fates worse than death if he were disobeyed.

Bile rose in her throat as she heard the whistles and calls of the men, some of them more lewd and disgusting than others. Apollo walked towards her, his eyes on her body, casually looking her up and down. Deep down in the pit of her stomach she felt desire. Desire for the man whose aura screamed dangerous. Desire for a man who had indeed done dangerous, cruel things. What the hell was wrong with her? Apollo stood behind her, the warmth of his body rolling over her. The blush in her cheeks rose as her nipples hardened in response. Apollo's hands settled on her waist, almost searing her with their heat. Goosebumps rose on her flesh.

"Is this not more entertaining?" he asked the men of the court. They all hooted and agreed. Apollo bent, his warm, lips finding the flesh of her neck as one his hands climbed up and tugged on the silver ring that protruded from her nipple. Layla gasped. "This is why I insist my women have this. I've found that if handled right, it can give them immense pleasure. Do you agree?" His whispered tone was mocking. She gritted her teeth again.

"Maybe we can get her to scream?" He asked the men again, who yelled out different suggestions. A rough palm skated down her smooth, taut belly to her bare Mons. Her clit was soon a prisoner in his fingers, as he toyed with it. She began to moan loudly, eyes fluttering shut, her back arching against him. If she had kept her eyes open, she would have noticed that many of the men had taken to touching themselves under their robes.

"You're still not screaming," she could hear the frown in his voice, "but I have one last thing." Before she knew it, three fingers plunged into her drenched pussy as his thumb viciously rubbed her clit and the fingers on her other hand tugged her nipple ring. The combination of pleasure and pain was heady and she screamed loudly as she felt herself spasm, her body milking his fingers as though they were a thick cock. Her screams faded into moans as she finally began to stop her muscle contractions. Apollo gripped her chin and guided her plump lips to his. She moaned as his tongue parted her lips and plunged into her mouth, conquering her mouth as he conquered much of everything. The nerve endings in her lips sparked to life as he sucked and licked at her, sending waves of excitement through her body.

He tasted so good! It was obvious the wine she tasted was simply what he had earlier, but there was something else, another taste she couldn't put her name on. Whatever it was, she moaned in disappoint when Apollo pulled away, taking his taste with him. He smiled down at her, making her want to smack the smug look off his face.

"You have been the most entertaining tonight. I'm sure most of my men would agree."

From somewhere out in the crowd, someone yelled out, "Let us have her for the night!" Men shouted their agreement and Layla blushed, moving ever so slightly closer to Apollo. Apollo gripped her small waist and pulled her flush against him. "I think not, gentlemen, for she will be my entertainment for the night."

Layla looked up at him in surprise and was even more surprised when he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips before whispering, "I expect you in my room, later tonight." Dumbly, she nodded before gathering her clothes and scurrying from the room.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
This could become interesting ...

... I just hope you don't take the "easy way out" and let Layla forget what happened to her people or who is responsible. Up to now, this "emperor" seems to be just a bully. And PLEASE don't make her enjoy being raped ... that "fantasy" has been done to death anyway.

AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago

Please continue!! This story is building up great!!

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Carpe Diem Previous Part
Carpe Diem Series Info

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