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Post by Demetra on Mar 25, 2007 8:54:30 GMT -5
How she had gone from Spartan woman to Persian slave in less than a day, Demetra was not sure. She could have been sold to anyone, a monk, a fellow Spartan in disguise, or a hunter with a taste for young women, but why, she could not help but ask the Gods why it had to be Xerxes that bought her. She now sat in the corner of his throne room, still adorned in a bellydancers apparel, one knee pulled up to her chest, and dark hair tumbling like lucious waves down her back. Bright blue, inquestive eyes watched the other sluts laze about, eating grapes, doing things to one another than women are not supposed to do, and it made her stomach turn. No, no, she was quite contented with where she was.
She shifted slightly, and the jingling of coins on her top startled her, causing her to moan in disgust. Why they had put her in this outfit was beyond her, she was priestess, not an entertainer. Well, she did know how to, but that was beside the point...
She felt her stomach turn again as the little whores Xerxes had already purchased pleasured one another, and she moved up onto her knees, not wanting to get totally up incase Xerxes entered at thought she was trying to escape and would punish her by throwing her to the guards, and crawled on her hands and knees to a darker corner of the room, by his throne so the darkness shielded her and the throne shielded her eyes. Demetra had always so loved sleeping on stairs, and made her self quite comfortable on the steps leading up to Xerxes throne, closing her eyes...
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 25, 2007 9:16:30 GMT -5
Iolanthe had barely noticed the others; she'd thought the Spartan would want space, and so she sat in a far corner with a handfull of shells and a thread. She wasn't one to engage in same sex tendencies, so she was doing something relatively productive. Making a necklace. Though the grapes were a tantalizing treat as well. As her fingers deftly slid bits of shell onto the thread, she noticed - through the irritating sound of pleasured women - someone crawling. It took a moment in the dim light to register it was the Spartan.
And she didn't look comfortable. Iolanthe, moved by some very small wave of pity - and opportunity, naturally, set down her shells and necklace, and stood. She strolled right through a pair of girls currently trying to eat each other's faces - or so it would seem through the heavy groping, and-
In a moment of indignation, she snatched a handful of one's long black hair and yanked her away from the other one. The other one cried out in a language Io didn't know, but she stared at the one she had in her grip, drunk on wine and utterly perverse -
"You're disgusting, Amalia, daughter of Istvan. Keep your tongue in your mouth and try to give some honor to your father," Iolanthe snapped with a disdainful scowl. The girl had a moment's expression of scalding shame, and Iolanthe knew it wouldn't last but it was enough. She stepped through them and paused only in reaching the throne. The Spartan's eyes were closed, but Io didn't think she was asleep.
"Hello," Iolanthe said abruptly, sinking to her knees in front of the Spartan. Not too close, because she knew firsthand that they had a temper and didn't want to seem intrusive. She was disappointed, in Demetra's style of dress, in how the other girls reacted. Gods. At least she was relatively allowed to wear what she liked - unless entertaining. But Xerxes had a reason to dress Demetra like this, and the only one was...humiliation. Logically.
"You never should have argued with him like that," Io admitted after a moment's pause, "I've learned it's easier to pretend to his face, and to plot behind his back." He still wielded an enormous amount of power, and it had taken Iolanthe a while to see the best way to get what she wanted was...not to scream at him. The punishment was always worse, and she was still in the same position she'd been before.
But this girl was Spartan. And the rumor was that they were trained not to do that sort of thing. So maybe giving in - even in pretension - wasn't palatable to her. Nonetheless...
"Who are you, really? You're not a slave. Are you...a noble's wife?" she guessed, "Related to the king?"
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Post by Demetra on Mar 25, 2007 9:29:18 GMT -5
Demetra had just gotten comfortable enough to sleep when a voice protruded through her thoughts.
"Hello,"
She cracked one eye open slightly, big, blue eye looking the other woman in the face. This was the girl who had tried to buy her, for what reasons the Spartan girl was still unsure, but it didn't really matter, she was in the same position anyway. A silence fell between them for a moment, as Demetra did not even acknoledge the woman besides looking at her.
"You never should have argued with him like that, I've learned it's easier to pretend to his face, and to plot behind his back."
Demetra did not listen, she did not comment, as she wasn't sure if this woman was really on her side or was gathering information for Xerxes. No, before she would comment on her utter hate for the man, she wanted to make sure this girl was not plotting behind her back.
"Who are you, really? You're not a slave. Are you...a noble's wife? Related to the king?"
Well, she guessed she could tell her that.
"My father is a Spartan soldier, Stelios, my mother is a former priestess. When she resigned, the occupation was passed down to me."
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 25, 2007 11:32:05 GMT -5
The Spartan didn't say anything for a moment, and Iolanthe felt a little awkward, but plowed on, determined to speak with her. At first, it seemed a little hopeless - maybe the Spartan simply wouldn't speak to her at all? And then how could she leave?! Finally, much to Iolanthe's relief, the girl replied,
"My father is a Spartan soldier, Stelios, my mother is a former priestess. When she resigned, the occupation was passed down to me."
It took a moment for the words to settle, and then Iolanthe blinked, expression one of horror and...pity.
"You've never been with a man before?" she prompted after a moment, unsure as to whether or not this question was appropriate. Her first experience should not have to be with Xerxes. Iolanthe frowned, pushing a strand of her own black hair behind one ear.
"I know you don't trust me, but...but you need to leave and I...I'm willing to help you." She paused, steadying her tone. "If you'll help me get there too."
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Post by Demetra on Mar 25, 2007 11:59:56 GMT -5
"You've never been with a man before?"
Demetra shook her head as if the question did not bother her, and simply replied with a short "No." She simply watched the girl as she spoke, her blue eyes not changing.
"I know you don't trust me, but...but you need to leave and I...I'm willing to help you." She paused, steadying her tone. "If you'll help me get there too."
The girl considered it for a moment. "Okay...I will help you..."
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Post by Iolanthe on Mar 25, 2007 19:44:05 GMT -5
"Okay...I will help you..."
Io looked at her, with a tenuous half smile. She was stunned at Demetra's easygoing admittance. Imagine being a virgin and threatened with all those horrible things Xerxes had said! Io had more respect for Spartan reserve now; it must not have been easy.
"Do you mean that?" Iolanthe felt such a surge of relief; it was as if a mountain of weariness had been lifted. She could leave. Then again, she was taking the word of a Greek, and you couldn't really trust a stranger...then again, what did the girl have to gain by betraying her?
But something even more pressing, while Io considered what she was planning to do...
"How did they find you?" she asked, a little on the blunt side. Iolanthe had been given to Xerxes. She didn't think the same was true of Demetra.
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Post by Demetra on Mar 25, 2007 19:57:07 GMT -5
"Do you mean that?
The girl nodded and closed her eyes, fatigue overwhelming her. She had not really slept in almost a month, and it was beginning to catch up with her. But she was afraid to sleep, so afraid......
((short, sorry))
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Post by Xerxes I on Mar 27, 2007 12:15:16 GMT -5
Xerxes stormed into the room not a moment later, shoving open the bronzed double doors and stalking - in his thundering capacity, into the throne area. Following him, two, three, of his soldiers. His favored generals, so to speak. One of them, in the silvered mask of the Immortals - for his deformed features were that which Xerxes did not like to look upon. The other two were Persians like himself.
He was angry. At Athens' refusal to give into his demands, and he was intending to take it out on someone. Upon storming into the room, many of the concubines scattered, and he found himself assaulted by the scents of wine and perfume and woman. It eased his temper...somewhat.
At least until he glanced at his throne. He would have recognized that long black hair anywhere - Yasmin. And behind her, nearly hidden from view. That small, delicate little cobra...the Spartan. She seemed exhausted. What a pity; he had not even shown her the finer arts of being a servant.
"What do we have here, Yasmin? How is our new flower doing amongst the rest of the garden?" he asked in mockingly bright tones. The king strode over to the chair, without even looking to see if anyone moved. He simply assumed they would.
"Feeling well, my little Greek?" he asked upon gazing down at Demetra.
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Post by Demetra on Mar 27, 2007 19:22:39 GMT -5
"What do we have here, Yasmin? How is our new flower doing amongst the rest of the garden?"
Demetra simply watched the man as he strode about, resisting the urge to strike out at him, simply because there were plenty of people that would stop her.
"Feeling well, my little Greek?"
At his question, Demetra smirked. She knew he thought she was a cobra, so she did the best thing she could think of, she let out a long, low hissing noise, before moving down from the steps to sit in a corner at the other end of the room.
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Post by Xerxes I on Apr 2, 2007 0:42:29 GMT -5
While the questions were directed at Yasmin, Xerxes half expected the Greek to protest - but she said nothing. He could practically feel the hate radiating from her. He smirked. But when his was met by her own, the smug smile faded to a scowl.
And then she hissed. To which the King, startled at first, then burst out laughing, an embittered forced sound, booming in the room and bouncing off the walls. He clutched his stomach, head back, laughing uproariously at her defiance.
"Even now! When there is no hope of your ever escaping, you insist on this...this cat and mouse!" he cried out through the laughter, studying Demetra but making no move to approach her. "You are such a fool. But-ah-nonetheless, do you feel up to a little entertainment, or do you intend to just hiss?" His tone took on a warning, suggesting she not do anything stupid.
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Post by Demetra on Apr 2, 2007 8:34:14 GMT -5
When the giant godking began to laugh, Demetra lay down rather comfortably, smiling smugly and curling up almost like a cat, ignoring his uproarious laughter.
"Even now! When there is no hope of your ever escaping, you insist on this...this cat and mouse!"
You better believe it. She thought and stretched her body slightly, skin shimmering, coins jingling. She simply looked at the man with the most innocent look she could on her face.
"You are such a fool. But-ah-nonetheless, do you feel up to a little entertainment, or do you intend to just hiss?"
She laughed, "Just hissing for now." she replied and lay her head back down to try and get some well deserved sleep.
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Post by Xerxes I on Apr 4, 2007 20:51:50 GMT -5
Xerxes was irritated, to say the least, that she seemed unperturbed. Giving credit to the Spartans, they were not easily ruffled-not even their women. He stared at her, eyes narrowing in frustration as the Greek stretched, showing off her tantalizing body in the process. He gave her a distinctly predatory once-over, starting at the feet, ending with her face, lingering over the coins. And she laughed.
Nobody laughed at him. And the other concubines stared at her as if she was positively mad. Didn't she know, didn't she know how lucky she was?! Utterly insane, to retort like that-and then! To pretend to sleep?!
Xerxes whirled around, infuriated by the audience and that a woman would stand up to him. He kicked a bowl full of grapes, sending the bronze dish smashing into the ground and skidding into the wall-grapes going everywhere. A couple of the girls screamed, and he stomped over to Demetra, crouched down, and grabbed a handful of that thick dark hair.
"You WILL NOT MOCK ME, GREEK! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" He shook her for good measure.
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Post by Demetra on Apr 4, 2007 21:02:20 GMT -5
She chuckled slightly, feeling his eyes on her, and she looked at him, arching a brow. Demetra knew she was attractive, and any woman from Athens would probably feel blessed to have a king look at her as Xerxes was. Here's where the problem set in, Demetra was a Spartan priestess, a life of worshiping and chasity. She put her head back down and closed her eyes.
Demetra looked up lazily as the bronze dish hit the wall and grapes went everywhere, catching one that had been thrown into the air in her mouth and eating it with a smile. When the man grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and yanked her head up, she refused the meep of suprise welling in her throat and looked at the man with a calm face.
"You WILL NOT MOCK ME, GREEK! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
After he shook her, she shrugged. "Nope, remember I'm a arrogant Spartan, I don't comprehend well." she snapped and grinned with a catlike intensity.
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