Greek Myths The Trojan War Ch 3

Author's Note: This story involves MF sex with elements of Non-Consent/Reluctance and is loosely based on the myth of the Trojan War. Enjoy!

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It was long days on the ships, although the wind blew hard and fast. The Greek armies spent every day looking straight ahead over open seas... many heroes were among them. The lead ship was captained by the world's greatest fighter, Achilles, son of the Sea Goddess Thetis. Other heroes were captaining their own ships, Ajax, the clever Odysseus... and Agamemnon in the middle of the huge fleet.

In Troy Priam's son Hector was gathering his own forces, trying to bring many in from the country-side. Unfortunately not all of the neighboring villages and towns believed the warnings sent out by their King, or at least they didn't believe that Agamemnon would arrive so quickly. They took their time about evacuation preparations, feeling assured that they would have plenty of time to scurry behind Troy's high walls, before the Greeks arrived.

But the Greeks arrived very early, ready for a fight... but when they marched on Troy, Hector simply closed the gates and did not fight, other than to order his archers to shoot at the massing army. Agamemnon was exceedingly frustrated by these tactics, knowing that he could not scale the walls and he was at an extreme disadvantage.

When his scouts reported that there were nearby towns which still had Trojans in them, Trojans which hadn't made it to the safe walls of the large city, Agamemnon smiled.

The very next day, a large force hit one of those nearby towns... warriors screamed murder as they trampled down Troy's citizens, killing anyone brave enough to fight back against their overwhelming numbers and superior skills. People fled in the streets, hiding, fleeing burning buildings. At the Temple of Apollo, finally, the slaughter was stopped... those who had fled inside for sanctuary were left unharmed as the oldest Priest, Chryses, bargained for their safety.

Agamemnon rode through the streets, ignoring the cries of the inhabitants... just observing as his warriors gang-raped and murdered. Slowly the unrest dwindled, and the survivors were gathered and roped together, ready made slaves for the army camp. Only the Priests of Apollo would go free, and Chryses was trying to stay and argue about one of the female prisoners that had been saved.

Stepping up, Agamemnon listened as Chryses argued with the soldiers, demanding that his daughter be released with him.

"Is she a priestess?" Agamemnon asked, looking down from his horse.

Chryses stared up at him with eyes that were empty of fear, "No, but she is the daughter of a Priest of Apollo." And he pointed her out.

The girl was beautiful, buttermilk skin with hair that was flaming red, dark grey eyes like smooth stones stood out in her face. Her clothing clung to her sweet curves, and the tears on her cheeks did not take away from her beauty at all.

"How old is she?" Agamemnon managed to ask.

"Eighteen." Chryses answered.

Looking her over, Agamemnon felt his loins stir, "I have a daughter about her age," he told Chryses, neglecting to tell the Priest under what circumstances he had last seen his daughter, "I shall take responsibility for her. I will care for her, as I have my own daughter."

Chryses looked at him with hard eyes, finally nodding as if he understood this was the best deal he could hope for. Then, with one last look at his weeping daughter, he led the rest of the Priests away, down the road towards Troy. They also carried with them a letter from Agamemnon, informing King Priam that he would continue his ravaging of the country-side around Troy unless the old King would allow his armies to leave the walls and fight.

"Lift her up here," Agamemnon told his soldiers, and they placed the weeping girl in Agamemnon's lap on his horse. Trotting off, Agamemnon wrapped his arm around her slender figure, feeling her heavy breasts pressing against his forearm, and he grinned as her slight body aroused his manhood. He'd never had a redhead before... he wonder if all of her hair was this flaming color.

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When they returned to camp, Agamemnon took hold of the girl's arm, and told his captain to see to the other slaves, making sure that they would all find places in the camp. Then he took the silent girl to his tent... she'd finally stopped weeping at least.

Once inside, Agamemnon began stripping off his armor until he was wearing absolutely nothing. The girl couldn't see, she was standing in the center of his tent, staring blindly at nothing. Agamemnon reached for her, pulling her against his naked chest, and she gasped, realizing that he was completely nude.

"STOP!" she cried.

Agamemnon smiled at her, "What is your name?"

It was such unexpected question that it caught her completely off guard, she stared at him, trembling and answered, "Chryseis."

"Well Chryseis," Agamemnon answered, "You are now my slave, and as such, I do with you as I please, and you never, ever tell me to stop. Or go. Or anything. I tell YOU what to do." His hands traveled down her back and began kneading her buttocks, hard, pressing her body against his swollen member. Chryseis moaned with fear in her eyes.

"You promised my father," she whimpered.

"So I did," Agamemnon smiled, "I shall look after you as I did my own daughter." His flesh swelled even more, with the memory of his daughter Iphigenia, and Chryseis' eyes went their widest yet as his mouth descended on hers, realizing what he meant.

She fluttered against him like a trapped butterfly, utterly useless resistance. Agamemnon rather enjoyed her weak struggles in fact, he forced her, step by step, over to his sleeping mat, pressing her down with his body weight. His tongue was deep in her mouth, and she tasted sweet...

With her trapped beneath his strong legs, Agamemnon supported himself on one hand as he began ripping the clothes from her body with the other. Her skin was almost glowing it was so pale, the nipples topping her large breasts were a light pink... freckles were spread over any part of her that the sun had touched, but the covered areas of her body were as smooth and pale as cream. Agamemnon groaned low in his throat as she sobbed and tried to keep him from pulling her clothes away... he shuddered when he revealed the patch of red hair between her thighs, as bright as the hair on her head.

Then he kissed her again, his body pressing against hers... the tears on her lips made her taste salty and sweet, and his hand cupped one breast, squeezing the tender flesh. Chryseis moaned into his mouth as man's hands touched her for the first time, confused by the shudder of pleasure that went through her as he teased her nipple to hardness. She was frightened, pressed underneath his weight, knowing that she was about to be raped, and yet his fingers toyed gently with her nipple, making it hard and sensitive as he rubbed it. His kiss was rough, but his hands were gentle as he began to play with both of her breasts, and she tried to push against his chest, wanting the pleasure to stop...

Her struggles just encouraged him though, and she could feel his manhood pressing against her hip, hard as the muscles on his chest and arms. When his lips left hers, she cried out, and then they were pressed against her nipple, sucking on the tender bud and she couldn't help the sudden pleasure that made her entire body shudder. Agamemnon sucked the young girl's nipple deep into his mouth, biting it gently, feeling the response in her body... her soft moan of pleasure made him even more eager to enjoy her body.

Agamemnon began biting down harder on Chryseis' nipples, he began biting into her pale flesh and sucking, leaving purplish bruises all over her tender breasts. Chryseis cried out and writhed, unable to decide whether it hurt or felt good... she gasped whenever he bit down on her tender nipples, and yet her groin seemed to be kindling with fire.

Roughly, Agamemnon pressed two fingers between her thighs, shoving them into her body and Chryseis cried out with the strange sensation... painfully stretched on his wide fingers. The first things to ever enter her body in that manner. They explored the tight virgin channel, finding her thin barrier and then retreating.

The excitement was too much, Agamemnon positioned himself above her, and Chryseis began to struggle against him anew, knowing what was about to happen... and then the thick meaty staff was pushing into her body. Her womanhood opened for it, although it was so big that her outer lips felt like they were being pushed in with it. Agamemnon groaned at her tightness, pressing forward until he found that slight barrier to his invasion... grinning down at her tearful face, he pulled away and then thrust roughly, breaking it easily.

Chryseis spasmed beneath him as his manhood slide deeper, her hands came up and scratched at his face, forcing him to hold her wrists down above her head as his entire weight came to rest on her body. She sobbed, feeling the shaft of a man inside her, painfully stretching her open... it felt like she couldn't breath because it was so deep in her body.

Agamemnon groaned... she was the tightest virgin he'd ever had the pleasure of entering, and wet enough that it didn't chafe him at all. Using just one hand to hold down her wrists, he began squeezing her breast and pinching her tender nipple with the other as he began a steady thrusting in and out of her body. Chryseis whimpered at the confusing mix of pain and pleasure that was coursing through her, not knowing how to respond to either.

She was trapped beneath the thrusting man, unwillingly separated from her father, and now being raped by the opposing army's warlord... and yet there was a strange burning need that caused her to press her body upwards against him as he plunged into her. His eyes dug into hers, and she closed her own to escape that knowing gaze, to escape the face of her tormentor... but when she closed her eyes she could only concentrate on the sensations he was filling her with. The insistent need between her thighs... and his lips pressing roughly against hers again, his tongue taking her mouth as he was taking her body.

The sounds of celebrating soldiers were all around them, cries of glee, songs of victory... and the moans and sometimes shrieks of women, those female slaves whom were the unlucky recipients of the soldier's attentions. Chryseis knew that she should be trying to fight more, trying to resist more, but she also felt her need growing, the demanding sensation between her legs that felt as though it was coming to completion.

Chryseis began writhing beneath Agamemnon, as much as she could with her wrists held above her head... her hips thrust upwards and her legs wrapped around his body before she knew what she was doing. Her ankles crossed behind him, and she tried to press him against her as her back arched with pleasure. This incredible response made Agamemnon roar like a bull, thrusting in and out of her hard and rough.

She cried out as flashes of pain mingled with the pleasure, but every time he thrust home she also felt that tingling promise of something ineffably wonderful. Then, suddenly, ecstacy overtook her, and her entire body tensed and arched beneath him as he continued to ravage her young body. Agamemnon rode the girl through her entire first orgasm, her spasming pussy nearly causing him to lose control...

And then as she was starting to wilt beneath him, the gasping pleasure releasing her, he thrust with frightening force and practically knocked the air from her lungs. Chryseis could actually feel him swelling up inside her sensitive channel, could feel the pulsing that meant he was filling her with his juices. Then, he relaxed on top of her, shrinking a little inside her but twitching as well.

Chryseis whimpered, feeling the soreness between her legs now that the heady rush of pleasure was over.

Once he had gathered himself, Agamemnon left for a war meeting. Chryseis quietly got up, found the basin of water, and began to wash herself.