In The Land Of The Amazons

Without barely enough time to recover from his beating, Hippolyta and Antandre were ordered by the queen to continue his punishment. The two approached him with sinister smiles, one holding a wooden paddle and the other with a vial of olive oil in her hands.

"Antandre is going to spank your buttocks with her paddle while I shove my fingers up inside your asshole to stimulate the little gland that makes you cum."

Chilon looked down at the girl with dismay but said nothing. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would change his fate, and asking for mercy was out of the question.

As soon as Hippolyta had greased up her fingers, she shoved two of them into Chilon's asshole while Antandre began a gentle rhythmic paddling of his ass. Hippolyta worked her fingers quickly in and out of his anus, smiling every time she watched his cock bob up and down in response to her stimulation.

"You must not touch his cock," Prothoe advised Chilon's tormentors. "You must make it cum all by itself."

"That's the idea!" Antandre said, giggling as she began to increase the severity of her paddling.

Many of the common citizens had now fought their way to the front of the crowd, desirous to watch Chilon's continued humiliation. One of them, a woman called Marpe, asked if she could fondle the Spartan's huge nut sack, to which the girls agreed.

"Pull on them all you like," Hippolyta said. "The more you tease them, the more cum will shoot out."

Marpe was happy to oblige. She dutifully got to her knees and aggressively fondled the gargantuan testicles, using both hands to stimulate the production of sperm. The combination of the paddling, and stimulation of his prostate and testicles were too much for Chilon to endure. With the crowd cheering them on, he began to cum.

His cock, rocking back and forth under the persistent machinations of the girls, and totally without being touched, shot out a torrent of milky, hot seed almost fifteen feet into the air, careening over the heads of those standing in the first few rows and landing in one giant, murky glob at the feet of the queen.

Lysippe looked down at the gelatinous mass and laughed.

"And that's as far as you're ever going to get with me you fucking traitor!" she screamed.

Chilon didn't even hear her as his body tensed up once more to release another series of multiple ejaculations, much of which ended up baptizing the women in the immediate vicinity.

"Keep spitting it out you bastard!" Hippolyta cried, as she continued to manipulate his orgasm. "I want all of it!"

His cock performed as ordered; it could do nothing else. Rope after rope of creamy ejaculate erupted in unbroken succession from Chilon's out of control penis, creating an immense puddle of spunk right under his feet. The audience roared their approval with each new burst of cum, relishing the idea of relegating the arrogant Greek into an object of scorn.

"How fucking ridiculous you look!" Deianeira said to Chilon. "Such a tough man! Look at how easy it is to control you!"

Chilon had no defense against the drug and the unceasing manipulation of his genitals. But he did have a defense against those who insulted him. He could simply tune them out. And that is exactly what he did. Even in the midst of orgasm, he was able to shut out all the unpleasantness around him, even his own physical discomfort, and retreat in his mind to a place that every Spartan warrior was taught since early childhood to go when the vicissitudes of life had proven to be too great to bear. The technique was very old, but it always worked. Through five minutes of the longest orgasm he had ever experienced, he remained on his feet and coherent even as his cock shot out the last of its voluminous load.

The crowd, enthralled by what they had witnessed, demanded more. To keep Chilon performing up to expectation, the queen had him swallow another full cup of the love potion and, without more than a few minutes' rest, he was once again ready to suffer whatever indignity was heaped upon him. But what happened next was something he would have never anticipated.

The queen ordered Xanthippe to fuck him.

"Is that so strange a request?" Lysippe said to her erstwhile friend. "You are the one who is truly in love with this man and yet you have never coupled with him. I should like to see you do so. And I'm sure so would everyone else."

Her recommendation was met with loud cheers as the soldiers, on the queen's orders, tore off Xanthippe's clothes, leaving her beautiful body completely naked. The dumbstruck girl fell into the arms of Anaea, her hands trembling.

"No!" the high priestess cried. "You will not humiliate me like this. Not in front of the goddess."

"Humiliate you?" Lysippe replied indignantly. "Is it humiliating to fuck at the feet of the goddess as your sisters have done? You blaspheme!"

"I won't do it!"

"If you will not obey me, I will kill him right now."

"Do as she says, Xanthippe," Anaea said, caressing her friend gently. "Your obedience will him buy him at least a few more hours of life."

Xanthippe closed her hand around her friend's wrist and gently squeezed. "If I can do that much for him, I will. Thank you dear friend."

With tears streaming down her face, Anaea let go of Xanthippe's hand and watched in sadness as her friend approached Chilon and laid her body down before him.

"My queen," Clymene said. "She is our high priestess. You cannot degrade her like this."

"Shut up, Clymene."

"I say again, you cannot degrade her like this."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I do not threaten."

"Then be silent or you will be next!"

The queen looked at Xanthippe with hate-filled eyes. "Fuck him you worthless whore!"

Despite Xanthippe's guilt, the queen's insult made several of the courtiers protest openly against what they believed was a sacrilege against the goddess. But Lysippe was unmoved.

"I will not tolerate any further objections!" the queen warned. Now get on with it, Xanthippe!"

"Come, Chilon," Xanthippe said, raising her arms up toward him. "It will be our first and last time together."

Chilon looked down at the woman he loved and his heart, overcome with emotions he thought he had not possessed, betrayed him.

"Monstrous woman!" he roared at the queen. "Venomous wretch abandoned by the gods! I swear to you this day that I shall have my vengeance upon you!"

For a moment the entire audience fell silent at his outburst, and then they began to deride him once again, with the queen leading them on.

"Go and fuck the traitor, you miserable son of an Athenian bitch! And keep fucking her until I tell you to stop! Otherwise I will cut you both to pieces where you lay!"

To the accompaniment of jeers, which swelled up like an incessant cacophony as the two lovers embraced, Chilon slowly and gently entered her, holding her close to him as he had done with no other woman. Such was their quiet and intense appreciation of each other that none but the most debauched and heartless person could help but be moved with pity at the sight. Oblivious to all except themselves, they caressed each other in the pure, unadulterated light of all-consuming love; a love that strives not for selfish satisfaction, but which seeks to express its joy in satisfying the beloved. It was a love borne of immediacy, of the knowledge that time was soon to end, with no past and no future to look forward to, only the here and now.

It was this serene and tender coupling that soon compelled the onlookers to come face to face with their own depravity, and they soon began to feel shame for their callous behavior, as if they were not witnessing the simple carnal act of which they, themselves, had recently partook, but rather a genuine expression of love between a man and a woman. Soon, the entire crowd ceased its mocking exhortations, and instead watched in quiet solicitude as Chilon and Xanthippe held onto each other in heartfelt embrace, unwilling to give in too soon to the demands of their bodies. But such desire, even when expressed in its spiritual form, cannot be denied forever, and in the midst of swearing his love to her and she to him, they both exploded in orgasm together; a fitting finale to their brief but beautiful union.

The entire temple had fallen silent. Even the queen looked sullen. Realizing all too late that the love she had seen expressed between the prisoners was never hers, would never be hers, made her heart turn to stone. There was only one thing left to do.

"Clymene," she said without the slightest bit of emotion. "Crucify this Spartan dog."

Immediately the soldiers set upon Chilon, even as Xanthippe threw her body in front of their spears, begging them for mercy.

"Kill me first!" she cried out to the queen. "Do not suffer me to watch him die! I cannot bear it!"

The mood of the crowd had now shifted significantly in the captive's favor. Some took up Xanthippe's plea; Anaea, Antiope, and Asteria among them. Even a few of the soldiers seemed reluctant to act.

But it was none of these things that prevailed upon the queen that day. For from outside the temple a sudden and terrifying cry was heard—a multitude of voices so loud in volume that it startled those within. And then the great bronze doors were flung open and a woman, one of Clymene's scouts, her face bloodied and covered with dirt, stumbled into the vestibule and threw herself down at the feet of the queen.

Everyone was struck silent at the sight of the bleeding and disheveled woman, and soon there were other voices emanating from outside the temple—voices that spoke vociferously of some impending doom.

"What is it?" Lysippe said to the woman as she rose to her feet. "What's wrong? Speak!"

"Great queen," the scout said, trying to catch her breath. "We were attacked. All of our scouts except for me and two others are dead."

"Who attacked you?" the queen demanded.

"A Miriandyni raiding party. They are making their way here right now."

"How many of them are there?"

"Two hundred horsemen at least. They are not far behind."

With her announcement fear and panic filled the temple.

"Get everyone capable of fighting to the walls," the queen said to Clymene. "The children and old ones can take refuge in the inner part of the city. Go!"

"What about them?" Clymene asked, looking at Chilon and Xanthippe.

"Leave them. We'll tend to them later."

"But we can use Xanthippe's bow."

"She does not deserve the honor to fight among us."

Within the hour the invaders had arrived, bringing with them a crude battering ram, which they now made ready to deploy against the city's towering wooden gate. Lysippe, looking resplendent in her full armor, stood on the parapet and directed the archers to release their arrows into the swarm of Miriandyni below. For a time the hail of arrows managed to hold them off, but the enemy archers forced the Amazons to seek refuge behind the walls after concentrating their attack on the front of the gate where the queen stood. Once the Miriandyni had achieved this objective, the battering ram was brought into play.

From inside the temple Chilon and Xanthippe could hear the screams of the wounded and dying, unaware as to whether the city walls had been breached or not. He was still chained to the wall and growing increasingly angry.

"I must get free!" he exclaimed, pulling savagely on his chains.

"What difference does it make, Chilon? We are both going to die in any case."

"That is speculation, priestess, not a fact."

"If the Amazons succeed in driving them off, we die. If the Miriandyni win, we die. They do not take prisoners."

"Then I suggest we stop concentrating on death and find a way to live."

"How? We cannot break free of these fetters. They are too strong."

At that very moment Clymene came running into the temple. She rushed toward Xanthippe, sword in hand, her face aghast.

"Lysippe is dead," she said, gasping for breath. "She has gone to join our ancestors."

"How?"

"A Miriandyni arrow to the heart."

"I am grieved to hear it."

You are now our queen, Xanthippe, and I swear my allegiance to you."

"Take off our chains!" she ordered.

She watched impatiently as Clymene hastily set her and Chilon free.

"Where is my armor?" Chilon asked Clymene.

"At the goddess's feet. The cabinet is unlocked."

He rushed to the pedestal upon which Artemis stood and quickly set about removing his possessions.

"My shield...spear...?"

"There, on the wall by your grandfather's sword."

Chilon dressed quickly, his face stern and contemplative.

"Is this wise?" Clymene asked Xanthippe.

"We are going to need all the help we can get. What is the status of the gate?"

"Soon to be breached."

"Then we shall meet the enemy as they pour into the city."

"No," Chilon said, as he took down Agamemnon's sword from the wall. "It would be far wiser to make our stand at the gate to the inner city. We need time to draw up our forces in formation—archers in the rear, hoplites in front, where our shields can protect us from enemy arrows. The wall will safeguard our backs."

"My queen?" Clymene asked.

"Do as he says. Return to the wall and tell our sisters to retreat to the inner gate. I go now to put on my armor. I will meet you shortly." Clymene nodded and turned to leave. "Clymene. Where is Anaea?"

"Fighting bravely at the wall. Her arrows have already killed many of the enemy."

"Tell her that I love her, as I do you."

Clymene grasped Xanthippe's hand tightly. "I am honored to fight by your side." She looked at Chilon. "And you too, Greek."

With that she ran quickly out of the temple.

"We will either be walking hand in hand in Elysium or supping with Hades in the valley of the shadows if we should fall this day," Chilon said to Xanthippe. "But I prefer to stay alive. All I ask I that you fight at my side."

"Have no fear, Greek," she replied half-jokingly. "I will protect you."

There was not much time to prepare for the oncoming assault, but Chilon was no stranger to warfare, and strategy was his strongest suit. Once all the Amazons had gathered at the inner gate, he had them draw up into four lines, running the entire length of the wall and leaving no room for outflanking maneuvers by the enemy. Behind them stood several lines of archers. His plan was to take the first few volleys of enemy arrows before allowing his own archers to release, and then to drive into the main body of the enemy in wedge formation, leaving the fourth line in reserve to protect the archers.

Clymene had already alerted her soldiers that Chilon would be fighting with them and when he made his appearance at the gate they gasped in awe at the warrior who might have passed for Ares himself.

"I told you he was a god!" Anaea cried upon seeing him.

The girl threw her arms around him and kissed him several times.

"I knew you would not forsake us," she said overjoyed.

"You have a brave heart," Chilon said, smiling down at her. "Stay behind me and I will let no harm come to you."

At that moment, Xanthippe appeared in her armor of bronze. When the soldiers saw her they fell to their knees and swore undying allegiance to their new queen. She told them to fight with courage and honor and to obey Chilon's commands. This they readily agreed to do and happily followed his instructions to the letter.

At Chilon's insistence many of the Amazons' shields were replaced by the Trojan and Greek shields that had been collected at Troy, and which had adorned the temple walls. He told Xanthippe that the bigger and heavier shields would be advantageous in deflecting a barrage of arrows and would also provide greater protection for her and her soldiers once they had engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat.

But now there was no time left for anything but fighting. The Miriandyni had driven past the outer gate and came upon the Amazons like a swarm of wild and angry beasts, wielding their great axes and swords with much bravado and shouting vile threats in their hideous Thracian tongue. But as soon as they saw the young Spartan standing defiantly at the head of the Amazon line, his great bronze shield glistening in the sunlight, they stopped dead in their tracks, believing in their barbaric and superstitious minds that they were seeing the shades of the long dead warriors of Troy. For an instant the illusion worked. Their melee attack now neutralized by the inexplicable sight, they scrambled nervously to regroup, forming a thick central mass of infantry with their archers directly behind them. The enemy leader shouted a command and the archers let go with a volley of arrows.

The first barrage was absorbed by the wall of shields and the wooden wall beyond. And then came a second and third volley, all equally ineffectual. It was then that Chilon gave the order for the Amazon archers to release their arrows. The first two lines of archers concentrated their attack upon the Miriandyni's front lines while the second group fired farther into the undisciplined mass, their arrows bringing down many of the enemy. Thrown thus in disarray and angry that their initial attack had been so well defrayed, the Miriandyni charged. But Chilon was prepared. Commanding the Amazons to quickly deploy into wedge formation, they took the brunt of the attack head on, and drove themselves straight up the middle as one giant, invincible spearhead, breaking the swell of oncoming enemy bodies like a great barrier wall deflecting the power of a tidal wave.

Keeping their shields interlocked provided the Amazons with ample protection from the overhead blows of the terrible axes and swords used against them, while their javelins pierced the unprotected midsections of their attackers. Xanthippe now ordered the remaining line to move forward to protect both the right and left flanks of the advancing Amazon army, her archers firing volleys of arrows into the enemy flanks until the once threatening mass finally lost its cohesion and broke up into smaller splinter groups, which were easy prey for the Amazons' arrows.

The wedge had served its purpose and was now abandoned in favor of single-handed combat. Pisto was one of the first to fall, brought down by a sword thrust to her chest. She was followed by Antiope and Deianeira, both of whom had fought valiantly against a tall, imposing monster of a man wielding an enormous double-edged axe.

The sight of seeing her friends' crushed skulls was almost too much for Xanthippe to bear. She tried in vain to avenge their deaths, seeking to inflict a mortal wound upon the man with her javelin, but was unable to get close enough to accomplish the deed. She watched in horror as both Hippolyta and Antandre, her betrayers, were hacked to pieces by the enemy, and instead of feeling vindicated by the hand of divine retribution, she felt only a terrible despair.

Anaea, however, was faring much better against the enemy. In obedience to Chilon's orders, she stayed close behind him, benefitting from his huge shield and terror-inspiring presence, managing to kill several Miriandyni with her short sword. Several times she came close to being wounded, but her agile young body moved too quickly for the enemy to contain, and she delivered blow after blow upon her hapless victims.

Chilon, who had stood at the head of the advancing Amazon line, was nothing short of a killing machine. Scores of men died by his hand and yet his thirst for blood could not be satisfied. His mind, full of anger and resentment for the treatment he had suffered at the hands of the late queen, was now a vortex of hate-inspired negative energy that was welded into one demonic force of pure retribution toward the Miriandyni. The first man to challenge him fell with the Spartan's spear buried in his neck. And those that dared to pursue the same folly swiftly met their deaths at the tip of his grandfather Agamemnon's terrible sword. Limbs were hacked off, eyes put out, and the more inexperienced fighters were simply run through the gut like so much sacrificial sheep. Xanthippe, always within sight of her beloved, fought with great valor, killing three men in succession with her javelin. But when she saw Chilon being hard pressed by two adversaries, she ran to his side and pierced one of the attackers in the eye, driving the spear tip into the man's brain. The Spartan, upon seeing the remaining opponent trying to impale Xanthippe on his spear, returned the favor by completely severing the man's head from his trunk, and then kicked the still trembling corpse into the dirt.