A collection of images by Moosemind with a Roman/Greek/Spartan theme.
I have strung them together with a narrative of my own that is pure mitchmen.
It tells the untrue story of the renowned Spartan Army.
The Shaming of the Spartans
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In Sparta, lovers are parting,
"Farewell, my love, the Army is assembled.
Today I must march on Throbos*".
*A city about 10 leagues from Troy, it was reputed to be the home
of some of the greatest treasures of the Trojan Empire.
With an equally renowned, lively nightlife.
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The Army departed from Sparta to the accompaniment of fireworks and celebrations.
Proudly, they bared their weaponry in the traditional way, for which the city was famed.
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The Spartan army stopped off in Homos on the way, to replenish their provisions.
There, the second in command was interrupted, while pillaging one of the locals.
"Sire, you must come quickly!
The Throbbers have sent emissaries!"
The General was informed and hastily made himself decent to receive the delegation,
but he was mindful that all Trojans would be still be seething
from the humiliation they had recently suffered at the hands of other Greeks.
'It will take more than a Trojan Horse to catch me out', he resolved.
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Wary of such trickery, the Spartans took no chances with the Ambassador,
They stripped him naked and tied him hands and feet.
"Sire, we have come in peace, our only desire is to serve you", he protested.
It was true, he had not come bearing gifts. Instead, his gifts were bared.
The General was impressed by the hunky Ambassador.
And turned on by his submissiveness in bondage
He sent him to his personal tent for a private meeting of minds.
A more relaxed atmosphere spread through the camp.
The emissaries were soon mingling with the ordinary soldiers
and quickly made many friends with their openness.
"See, I bring a peace offering, for anyone that wants it"
That evening, to the dismay of sceptics amongst the Spartan officers,
the emissaries produced multiple emissions throughout the camp.
Including groans from the luxurious Commander's quarters.
The commanders were rudely wakened the next morning by an Aide de Camp.
"Infamy General! It's infamy!" he declared, (camply, as custom dictated).
"The Trojan emissaries have infiltrated the entire army during the night,
and they have stolen all our clothes and weapons!
All I have left is my dagger, which I always keep well hidden".
"I fear, I too was infiltrated last night", the Officer replied,
"It was my first time, and it was bloody brilliant!".
"I’ll tell the General, But without our weapons, we cannot go on.
Sound the withdrawal! Everyone withdraw!"
And so the long march home of the demoralised Army began.
It was embarrassing returning naked through the same villages that had feted them.
But, unhindered by possessions or clothes, they made good progress.
Their officers rallied their men and kept them going.
"Courage lads! Once we're through the next pass, we'll be safe!
I'll buy you all a beer, when we're back in Sparta"!
But the Throbbers had taken a shortcut and reached the pass before them.
It was no good, they were trapped.
And so the proud Spartan army, in its entirety,
passed into captivity without a blow being struck.
300 blow jobs had brought 'The 300' to their knees.
They entered Throbos, not as conquerors,
but as humbled, angry prisoners.
The Spartan General voluntarily offered himself to the King of Throbos,
hoping to spare his men the worst of the Throbbers' revenge.
He was taken to the city square and punished severely, like a common criminal.
Other Officers had also bravely identified themselves
A few with impressive-looking credentials were picked out by the King personally.
To be held in his personal household as hostages and for ransom.
He made them pay a humiliating price for their mistake. Nightly.
The rest shared the fate of the ordinary soldiers.....
"Citizens of Throbos! Behold the proud sons of Sparta!"
"Three hundred of them dared to challenge us, but confronted by real men,
they meekly surrendered without a fight, without a stitch on.
We, in Throbos, do not make prisoners of cowardly hooligans like these.
To pay for their pillaging, they must be sold to the highest bidders.
Citizens! Get out your purses! "
The captive, young Spartan soldiers were horrified.
"They can't do this to us, Sir, can they?" they pleaded with their Sergeant,
"We didn't do any pillaging, well, not much anyway".
"I'm afraid they can" the wise old hand told them.
"There's a convention on the treatment of Prisoners of War,
but we don't count as POWs, because we didn't even have weapons.
Legally, we're just tourists, an anti-social gang of foreign louts".
The once proud fighters, realised they had no choice.
Engulfed with shame, they hung their heads,
It was an agreeable gesture to on-lookers, who increased their bids.
One by one, they went under the hammer
and were led away by new masters.
Sold into slavery, the Spartan boys were dispersed far and wide.
In Egypt :- "I am bored with this Spartan vassal, bring me my whip!"
In Rome:- "Get up, dog!"
"Tonight you will serve me in my bedchamber
and, by Jupiter, you will regret your insolence!"
In Britannia, a young conscript, toiled in the fields,
still naked as he had been the day he was captured.
Far from home, parted from his lover,
his only rest and solace was a nightly dose of the farmer's lust.
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Such was the disgrace of the Spartan Army, defeated by deception.
Not by a Trojan horse, but by a crack squad of Trojan whores.
More Moosemind and link next time