Olympian Games

Story from Februs 22.

Olympian Games
A story from Ancient Greece

"Do you mean to say you're not married yet?" The young woman took her companion by the arm and swung her round so that their brown eyes met. "Oh, Jana, you have a lot to learn about our culture. That is not encouraged. Not yet..." Electra appeared to want to say more, but only lowered her head. She was swaying gently from side to side; it seemed that she was upset. Instinctively, Jana draped a comforting arm softly around her friend, but said nothing. The two girls drew closer together, their long dark ringlets gently intertwining in the early morning breeze. They melted together warmly and everywhere was quiet. Overhead an eagle flew towards the dawn light.

After what seemed like an eternity, Electra stirred and, lightly kissed Jana's fresh cheek as she broke free. Her expression had changed in a moment from a dreamy velvet sleep to the impish smile so characteristic of this lively beauty. Turning, she took her friend's hand in a firm grip, her strong slender fingers pressing in the softer flesh of Jana's.

"Come, we must hurry back before we are spotted," she whispered.

"You are right," Jana replied, shaking herself out of the deliciously drowsy feeling that had come over her.

The two girls skipped lightly down the steep rocky slope, hand in warm hand, towards the path which ran between their camps. Soon two silhouettes were parting with a secret kiss in the milky light of dawn. "See you in the games," called Electra, laughing over her shoulder as the two ran in opposite directions along the path: one towards the Athenian's tents, the other, naked, heading for the Spartan's.

Jana returned to find her country folk washing from ornate copper basins and sitting in the growing warmth of the morning sun. Nikias and Orestes appeared from the men's tent and sat together on a large rock. "Fetch us some olives, Jana," commanded Nikias, "and bread," added Orestes.

"May I have some too," Jana asked, flashing her big eyes at the two seated men. But she knew she could.

"You need to be strong for your throwing, so have yourself a feast," they laughed.

She was pleased no-one had noticed she'd been away. What would happen to her if she was found with a Spartan girl? Jana didn't want to think about that.

The bread was very fresh, still warm and aromatic, Jana pulled off two large pieces and gave them to her husband and brother-in-law. She took a smaller piece for herself, it was still steaming. She ate the bread slowly as she laid out flat on one of the orange robes which Agariste had bought in Olympia. The olives were plump and succulent. Jana felt sleepy lying in the sun as she thought of Electra, her strong thighs and bold character. Was this admiration she felt, was she jealous or was she in love?

The two men, nearby, chatted and drank wine from bronze goblets that sent flashes of yellow light across the girl's fine white robe and lightly tanned skin. She rolled over, her gentle, young body relaxed softly on the ground.

* * *

"In here girl!"

The magnificent Pentheus boomed out his order from a square jawed mouth and stood menacingly flexing his cane in powerful looking hands. The free end of this supple willow was always in motion: it seemed to Electra that the cane was alive.

"I think you are becoming lazy with the air of this decedent city, Electra. Are you still a good Spartan girl".

He tormented her with the tip of the quivering cane, one black eyebrow cocked in mock query. Electra immediately stood to attention, thrusting her firm young breasts sharply forward.

"Yes, sir, I am your good Spartan girl, sir," she responded with nervous haste, but she was a good Spartan.

The eyes of Pentheus fixed darkly on the tight little quiver of the girl's ripe flesh, now so proudly presented.

"Indeed," he mused, hand on chin.

Electra hollowed her back forcing her buttocks out dramatically. Pentheus walked round behind his little soldier girl. He was well used to Electra, but he still got a kick out of seeing her like this. Those two fleshy globes jutting so prominently from the base of her spine were surely the finest buttocks in all Greece. He gave her a stinging SMACK sending her bottom flesh violently wobbling. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! Oh how he loved this, he could spend all day spanking this girl. But now he stopped.

Pentheus moved round to face his athlete once again.

"I am not sure you are still the brave Spartan girl I have been training these past three years," he taunted her.

"Please sir, I can show you, sir".

Electra looked up towards her master with appealing eyes. He lifted his cane and with it, imperiously pointed to the ground in front of them. At the signal Electra knew what to do. She turned her back on fearsome Pentheus with his springy cane and, with legs pressed together, she bent elegantly from her narrow waist, placing the palms of her hands flat on the ground in front of her feet. She was bent double before him.

Now her bare bottom was offered breathtakingly for her Spartan master to test. Even bent as tightly as she was, her buttock still looked fleshy and exquisitely round and inviting. "Perhaps the cane made them grow bigger," Pentheus thought.

Then his face grew much more serious. He swished the springy cane rapidly about him as though shadow-duelling with a rapier. Swish, swoosh; it made a terrifying sound. The olive skinned, six-foot-four master of athletes then stood some two paces behind and one pace to the left of Electra's bare bottom. He stretched back with the cane in his hand, filling his deep lungs with an almighty breath and tensioning every sinew in his powerful body.

"This is what a Spartan girl needs before she wins the olive crown, Electra," he announced with gravity, whilst poised to beat her. Electra remained motionless.

Then, without further warning, the cane flashed down, Whip-CRACK!, like a starting pistol's fire, cutting ferociously into Electra's roundly offered buttocks. She was lifted onto tip-toes with the impact; Pentheus held the cane against her bottom, pressing it into the flesh he had just struck. Brave Electra made no sound. Slowly the master removed his cane and Electra settled back onto her heals. Almost languidly he drew the cane back once more. Whip-CRACK! the performance was repeated, Pentheus aimed to stripe his Spartan girl with all the exactitude of his office. So accurate was his caning that Electra was left, not with four tramlines – the result of two strokes – but three, the middle one already plum coloured where the two strokes had neatly merged.
Another four slicing cuts marched in perfect regimental formation down to the tops of Electra's stoical thighs. This accuracy was only possible because she had remained absolutely still throughout her painful caning. The result of years of Spartan training. Electra knew she now wore the sign of a well trained – that is to say, disciplined and brave – Spartan girl, now hotly striping her jutting and always bare buttocks.

"Up you get, then, Electra, you have a fine badge of Spartan courage on your saucy bum, let us not be disappointed in the games".

Pentheus's tone was now congenial, as was the playful spank with which he propelled Electra from his tent.

Outside under the rising sun, she squeezed the tears from her eyes and lightly fingered the soreness of her proud buttocks.

"She is a fine girl, really," mused Pentheus, now seated behind a rough wooden table – the only furniture of his tent. "Electra, come and eat, you need some food. Have no fear, you will use it well today".

Electra sank her white teeth hungrily into the unleavened bread which Pentheus handed to her – this was an unusual privilege.

* * *

The stadium was a magnificent sight. Crowds of thousands of people from all of Greece roared and cheered. Brightly coloured banners flashed in the breeze and loud trumpets and drums sounded on every side. The athletes stretched and limbered in preparation for the heroic feats they would perform today. Jana, in a short athletes tunic exercised among the Athenians, stretching the muscles of her supple limbs and warming up to her athletic peak. In the distance naked Electra prepared herself too, overseen by Pentheus, arms folded towering above the girls. Jana felt a strange leap in her belly on seeing Electra, under his control like that: she looked so beautiful, so brave.

The sentor's voice was like thunder, "Women of all Greece who have seen twenty summers will contest by throwing the discus".

It was time. Jana, along with three other Athenian girls, walked out of their area to the discus field where they were met by others like them of every Greek nation and city. Electra self-consciously avoided Jana's eyes – she wanted no one to know she had met the Athenian before. Standing with their tunics billowing in the breeze (apart from the Spartans) the girls were each given a coloured ribbon. An Olympian magistrate began drawing ribbons from a small cloth bag held by a servant with outstretched arms. The running order was decided, Jana was to throw fifth and Electra would be last.

Jana walked onto the circle. With her head bowed she summonsed all her strength, the past year's training running through her mind, the practised stance, the focus. She adopted the stance and remained still. The stadium was quiet.

Now!

She whipped round, uncoiling her arms, legs and spine in an elegant spin which accelerated and flew her round on the circle a second time and with her throwing arm now stretched she flung the discus, feeling it leave her finger tips, spinning high and far. It was an admirable throw. The crowd applauded and, once she was back among them, the other Athenians hugged her with their warm bare arms draping round her neck. Jana felt happy.

She watched the other girls. Some good, some not so good. Only one rivalled her throw, a tall dark looking girl from the north – she had a superior air and challenged Jana with her eyes, but she had not beaten Jana's throw.

Only Electra to come now. The Spartan girl walked with great purpose towards the circle to take up her stance. Her perfect feminine form was displayed as a public testimony to Spartan training. The Magistrate noticed another such testimony – he audibly gasped as his eyes followed her swaying hips and those streaks of livid fire – the unmistakable marks of a cane across her wobbling buttocks. Electra knew there would be many more cane stripes if she did not win this. So did the crowd. Jana, also, stared at the girl's proud bare bottom and tried to imagine what it would be like to be caned as Electra had been. Curiously she found herself not horrified by the thought, but strangely longing, almost envious of Electra's training.

The whole crowd grew silent. With complete concentration the Spartan girl now took up her stance. This was her big moment, what she had been preparing for over the past three years. The voice of Pentheus echoed in her head 'breath in the power of all the gods and unleash it on all your enemies through the discus'. Perfectly balanced, she was wound like a tight spring with a hair trigger. Suddenly, she launched into her throw. This was maximum effort, instinctive timing, perfect execution honed by repetition, practice and the cane. Electra's throw was superb. To the roars of the crowd, her discus flew high, past the marks of lesser athletes, on and on, and landed skidding rapidly past Jana's marker over the grass. Electra had won! With one hand on each hip, Pentheus raised her into the air in his jubilation. He kissed the warm buttocks which a little earlier he had flogged. He was delighted with his little athlete, broadly grinning and laughing a great thunderous laugh.

An hour later, as the sun rose to its full height, Electra walked to the rostrum and took first place. Jana then followed for second and the tall dark girl stood on the third place step. Electra bent her head to receive the olive crown and raised her arms in triumph, bright teeth flashing with joy. Then in an unusual gesture the Spartan took Jana's hand in hers and lifted it to the gods. The crowed applauded enthusiastically, Jana's eyes filled with tears of confused emotion, but Electra sensed her secret thoughts. Putting her face close to the sweet Athenian's she whispered to her "Come with me after this Jana".

It would be possible for her to slip away unnoticed, she was sure. Besides, Jana cared nothing for the risk now. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it earnestly.

* * *

Pentheus was back in his tent.

"A Spartan athlete must be braver and stronger than any other, Jana. We find the only way to learn these virtues is through the submission of the body to the tutelage of the rod". He lectured the Athenian girl with deliberate gravity. "We do not play at punishment, Jana, as Electra will tell you, it hurts. It is meant to hurt – a great deal. That is the secret of the training which you seek". The grim smile he wore did not conceal the contempt of mighty Pentheus for all non-Spartan Greeks.

Jana moistened her full lips with a darting tongue and answered quietly "I need such instruction, Master".

"I will leave you to think on it for a while," declared Pentheus as he turned to leave dramatically, but Jana stopped him.

"Master, I have already decided". Her eyes were bright with passion. "It is what I need, I want to learn to be strong like Electra. I want to win like Electra".

"Then you accept the Spartan training?"

"Willingly, Master," Jana replied almost in a whisper.

"Very well, right now I am going to cane you. You will receive twelve strokes from my cane on your bottom".

Jana nodded in dumb acquiescence.

"Turn around Jana of Athens". Pentheus took on the mantle of a god in her mind as he boomed out his commands. She was ordered to bend across the table. Her tunic tautened across her full bottom cheeks. Pentheus took up his long quivering cane and placed the end against her.

At this Jana stood up.

"Just as I thought," Pentheus angrily withdrew the cane, contempt at these feeble inferiors curled his lip.

"I should not have listened to you Electra, you will pay dearly for this little game my girl".

Just in time he was stopped from flying at the Spartan girl.

"You misunderstand me, Sir," Jana said flashing him a submissive smile. Then, trembling, she unfastened the cord which tied her tunic and let the short garment fall to the ground. She stood exposed, feeling strange – a little guilty, excited and rather frightened.

"Will you not cane me like a Spartan, Sir".

She turned and bent once more over the table. This time her glorious smooth bottom, so earnestly offered up for his cane, was bare. Pentheus groaned, his gaze fixed on the deep gap between her cheeks which flared to reveal the smooth fleshy lips of her bald vagina. Jana's bottom shone with the silken smoothness of a pale rose petal. Her legs were slightly parted, but touching warmly where the chubby softness of her inner thighs was greatest. The cane was raised, drawn back to full stretch. Pentheus might have been in heaven. He sighed deeply and summoning all his power and might he unleashed his whippy cane, full force, slashing it down in a blur of furious potency. Suddenly, Jana entered the realm of fire: she had become a Spartan.

* * *

Three archaeologists were standing by a rusty trencher. Maria slammed the car door and made towards them, dodging the frenetic traffic, her tape-recorder slung over her shoulder.

"Maria Avramidou," she greeted them – breathless with rushing – "from Athens Radio".

"Ah yes, your colleague called, he said you were coming," the older of the archaeologists replied as he reached out to help Maria towards the hole. She tottered in her high heals.

"So what have you found exactly", she asked, twiddling knobs to get the sound level right.

"Oh, it's just some graves, this time, but one rather interesting one".

"Yes, tell me about that, then".

"Well we are fairly sure these are from about the middle of the fourth century BC, they are wealthy Athenians, probably it's a family tomb, there are quite a lot of these around here on the outskirts".

He began to lecture, Maria only wanted eight seconds for the midday news.

"Tell me about the interesting grave, who is in that?" she asked.

"Well, it's a woman, we don't know what age yet, what is interesting about her are the artefacts".

"Artefacts?"

"Yes, it is normal to find jewellery, coins, perhaps some pottery. In this sort of grave, all Athenian, but this one has an interesting mixture of Athenian and Spartan jewellery, it's rather unusual".

"Is there anything else you can tell me about the woman then?"

"She seems to have been buried holding on to several thin sticks and there appear to be traces of leather among them too. We haven't the faintest idea what they were for. It's the first time we've seen this".

"Have you any theories?"

"Well, not really, they often had some much-loved possessions buried with them, but we can't think what these sticks could have been. We are open to suggestions!" The archaeologist laughed.

"That's great," Maria announced, switching off the tape. She shook hands and left.
There are so many things about the ancients that we will never know, she thought, as she drove through the hot Athens suburbs, back to the studio.

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Unfortunately, I have changed two computers for the last years, and at me have not remained a name of its author. Only plain text. Anybody can inform me a name of the author of this story?