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Before the first guests arrived, the Whip-Mistress returned, checked Una and Duo were both okay – they were, feeling hot and sweaty in the afternoon sun and tormented by small insects, but otherwise reasonably relaxed and ready to begin their show. The sedilia were removed, Clementina cracked her whip across them both, they began to dance.
Crowds were soon milling around. Men and boys sere keen to watch, but most looked sheepish because their wives or mothers were glaring disapprovingly, it was groups of young women and unaccompanied old men who were most unbridled with their comments, and even stretching out their hands to grope and molest the writhing bodies, which were well within reach and the male slaves guarding them had orders not to prevent ‘harmless fun’.
Una felt annoyed, although she’d got used to being naked and exposed as a slavegirl has to be, she still experienced shame when she was ogled and manhandled by lascivious old perverts, and an urge to give a sharp retort to giggling girls teasing her who were no older than her sister, but she knew it was best to accept her humiliation and concentrate on her dancing, which in a strange way she found increasingly pleasurable, as her flesh rippled in constant, enforced, motion.
Duo slipped more readily into the role of crucifixa, the attentions of the audience were simply part of being a slavegirl, some she actually enjoyed in a secret way, others she simply let flow through her as she squirmed and strove in her bondage.
The scents of the garden were mingling in the warm air with smoke from roasting pigs and oxen lower down the hill, they’d been cooking slowly since dawn, and were now invitingly ready for the guests to enjoy, along with more delicate appetisers – dormice in honey, skylarks stuffed with truffles, octopus and oysters in wine, all kinds of exotic fruits and spices, fish-sauce with everything, Isabella had spared no expense.
Crows and gulls were flocking, not surprisingly, the two writhing bodies on their crosses were only a couple among many attractions to greedy beaks, and clearly not ready just yet to start pecking, though Una had a fright when a big bird landed on the bar close to her head and pecked at her breast – it was after a big horse-fly that had just started nibbling, she was grateful to the crow for removing it.
Duo, well into the rhythm of her dance now, was gazing dreamily at the sky, drifting in and out of awareness, when she felt a friendly slap on her leg, “Hi, Duo!”
She glanced down, two friendly faces smiling up at her, “Uli! And Luna! Hi!”
She gasped for air for a moment, gathering her senses, “What are you two doing her? Slavegirls don’t get asked to posh parties.”
“Dunno, really,” answered Uli, “Mistress Melissa brought us with her, she’s with your parents, we’ve just snuck off to look around, and see if we could find you.”
“Well, we’re not easy to miss, are we?” chuckled Duo.
“We know a bit about how you got to be here, we knew Una had been bought by Isabella of course, and Melissa told us about you being kidnapped by Blattus and rescued somehow by Pollia, but you must have an exciting story to tell,” said Luna eagerly.
“It’s been some adventure,” sighed Duo, “Yeah, I hope some time I’ll be able to tell you it all.”
“Well we’d better get back to Mistress Melissa," said Uli, "she’ll be wanting us to do some tasks – she says we’re going to have some surprises, I only hope they’re nice ones!”
“Well it’s lovely to see you both, come back if you can, I shan’t run away,” Duo said, and resumed her gymnastics.
While Duo had been chatting to her friends, Una had noticed familiar faces in the growing crowd, Titania and her parents and – even at a distance – strikingly good-looking brother. Maxima was conversing loudly with other matrons, while keeping an eye on both husband and son, she knew all too well what they get up to in their successful day-job as slave-traders, but she wasn’t going to have them embarrassing her at this prestigious event.
Titania managed to slip away on some pretext and made her way over to Una. “Hi, Valentina,” she greeted her, stroking her former girlfriend’s long lithe legs affectionately, “you really look lovely, hanging there like that!”
“Yeah, maybe – but I don’t feel lovely, I feel hot and sweaty, and smelly and achy.”
“That’s just the way I like you!” Titania slapped Una’s buttock, “It’s the way you always were in the changing-room after sports.”
Both girls sniggered at their naughty memories.
“It’s a shame Mum didn’t get to buy you,” Titania went on, “I was really cut up about that.”
“I know, I saw you throwing a wobbly. Isabella’s a brilliant Mistress, you wouldn’t believe what she lets us get up to, though she’s very demanding, they don’t call her The Insatiable for nothing. But I was disappointed too…” Una paused, panting for breath and wondering whther she should say the next bit, but determined she would, “Titty, you never told me you had a brother."
“Oh, didn’t I?” Titania replied with a mock-innocent grin, “I must have forgotten him. He’s Muscularius.”
“Well he’s a blaze, he’s so hot, even from here he’s making me squirt!” Una thrust her splayed thighs, her torso rose in a breast-thrusting curve.
“I wanted to keep you for myself,” confessed Titania, not very contritely.
“Well you were a mean bitch. Is he booked?”
Titania smiled mysteriously, “Erm, well, yes, in a way, he is…”
“Drat,” sighed Una glumly, “Ah well, I’m a slavegirl now, no chance on the man-market while Isabella’s got her claws into me.”
“Don’t despair,” Titania hugged her friend’s legs, kissed her warm pubes, “Fortune’s always turning. Anyway, I’d better get back, I think your mother’s around and I don’t want mine getting into a shouting match with her, it’s my job to keep them apart! See you pussy! Oooh, you’re so sexy up there!”
Crowds were soon milling around. Men and boys sere keen to watch, but most looked sheepish because their wives or mothers were glaring disapprovingly, it was groups of young women and unaccompanied old men who were most unbridled with their comments, and even stretching out their hands to grope and molest the writhing bodies, which were well within reach and the male slaves guarding them had orders not to prevent ‘harmless fun’.
Una felt annoyed, although she’d got used to being naked and exposed as a slavegirl has to be, she still experienced shame when she was ogled and manhandled by lascivious old perverts, and an urge to give a sharp retort to giggling girls teasing her who were no older than her sister, but she knew it was best to accept her humiliation and concentrate on her dancing, which in a strange way she found increasingly pleasurable, as her flesh rippled in constant, enforced, motion.
Duo slipped more readily into the role of crucifixa, the attentions of the audience were simply part of being a slavegirl, some she actually enjoyed in a secret way, others she simply let flow through her as she squirmed and strove in her bondage.
The scents of the garden were mingling in the warm air with smoke from roasting pigs and oxen lower down the hill, they’d been cooking slowly since dawn, and were now invitingly ready for the guests to enjoy, along with more delicate appetisers – dormice in honey, skylarks stuffed with truffles, octopus and oysters in wine, all kinds of exotic fruits and spices, fish-sauce with everything, Isabella had spared no expense.
Crows and gulls were flocking, not surprisingly, the two writhing bodies on their crosses were only a couple among many attractions to greedy beaks, and clearly not ready just yet to start pecking, though Una had a fright when a big bird landed on the bar close to her head and pecked at her breast – it was after a big horse-fly that had just started nibbling, she was grateful to the crow for removing it.
Duo, well into the rhythm of her dance now, was gazing dreamily at the sky, drifting in and out of awareness, when she felt a friendly slap on her leg, “Hi, Duo!”
She glanced down, two friendly faces smiling up at her, “Uli! And Luna! Hi!”
She gasped for air for a moment, gathering her senses, “What are you two doing her? Slavegirls don’t get asked to posh parties.”
“Dunno, really,” answered Uli, “Mistress Melissa brought us with her, she’s with your parents, we’ve just snuck off to look around, and see if we could find you.”
“Well, we’re not easy to miss, are we?” chuckled Duo.
“We know a bit about how you got to be here, we knew Una had been bought by Isabella of course, and Melissa told us about you being kidnapped by Blattus and rescued somehow by Pollia, but you must have an exciting story to tell,” said Luna eagerly.
“It’s been some adventure,” sighed Duo, “Yeah, I hope some time I’ll be able to tell you it all.”
“Well we’d better get back to Mistress Melissa," said Uli, "she’ll be wanting us to do some tasks – she says we’re going to have some surprises, I only hope they’re nice ones!”
“Well it’s lovely to see you both, come back if you can, I shan’t run away,” Duo said, and resumed her gymnastics.
While Duo had been chatting to her friends, Una had noticed familiar faces in the growing crowd, Titania and her parents and – even at a distance – strikingly good-looking brother. Maxima was conversing loudly with other matrons, while keeping an eye on both husband and son, she knew all too well what they get up to in their successful day-job as slave-traders, but she wasn’t going to have them embarrassing her at this prestigious event.
Titania managed to slip away on some pretext and made her way over to Una. “Hi, Valentina,” she greeted her, stroking her former girlfriend’s long lithe legs affectionately, “you really look lovely, hanging there like that!”
“Yeah, maybe – but I don’t feel lovely, I feel hot and sweaty, and smelly and achy.”
“That’s just the way I like you!” Titania slapped Una’s buttock, “It’s the way you always were in the changing-room after sports.”
Both girls sniggered at their naughty memories.
“It’s a shame Mum didn’t get to buy you,” Titania went on, “I was really cut up about that.”
“I know, I saw you throwing a wobbly. Isabella’s a brilliant Mistress, you wouldn’t believe what she lets us get up to, though she’s very demanding, they don’t call her The Insatiable for nothing. But I was disappointed too…” Una paused, panting for breath and wondering whther she should say the next bit, but determined she would, “Titty, you never told me you had a brother."
“Oh, didn’t I?” Titania replied with a mock-innocent grin, “I must have forgotten him. He’s Muscularius.”
“Well he’s a blaze, he’s so hot, even from here he’s making me squirt!” Una thrust her splayed thighs, her torso rose in a breast-thrusting curve.
“I wanted to keep you for myself,” confessed Titania, not very contritely.
“Well you were a mean bitch. Is he booked?”
Titania smiled mysteriously, “Erm, well, yes, in a way, he is…”
“Drat,” sighed Una glumly, “Ah well, I’m a slavegirl now, no chance on the man-market while Isabella’s got her claws into me.”
“Don’t despair,” Titania hugged her friend’s legs, kissed her warm pubes, “Fortune’s always turning. Anyway, I’d better get back, I think your mother’s around and I don’t want mine getting into a shouting match with her, it’s my job to keep them apart! See you pussy! Oooh, you’re so sexy up there!”
As the sun moved lower in the sky, Una and Duo continued their exercises, though increasingly wearily, whenever they were conscious of an audience watching, and that was a lot of the time. Duo noticed two senior gentlemen she recognised, Admius of the blue nose and his yellow-hatted friend Arbor, she made an effort to give them an enjoyable view of her bending, heaving, twisting and thrusting.
They were soon joined by another couple who were all-too-familiar to both girls, Whip-Master Lucius and Whip-Mistress Clementina, evidently hitting it off with each other very well, to judge by their smiles. Clementina decided it was time to re-fit the sedilia so the dancers could have little relief from the strain in their limbs and trunks. But when the slaves brought the pair of small wooden supports, they also carried a box labelled CORNUA – NAILUS MARTYRÆ – ARBOR INC.
Clementina was in conversation with Arbor, they both approached Una, and she found herself being intimately examined, gently but firmly, but the man’s fingers, probing between her sex-lips and feling under her perineum to where her buttocks rubbed the rough cross-wood. She wriggled responsively with a slight yelp – of surprise and pleasure, not disgust or pain.
“This one will fit a Barbariana to a T,” opined Arbor in his low, drawling accent, “that’s my best-selling line, the cornu of choice for nubile young ladies.”
“One Barbariana!” the Whip-Mistress ordered, Una and Duo both watched as a slavegirl extracted from the box and handed over a small, elegantly polished, slightly curved, pointed horn, which Clementina fitted into the slot in the sedile, and then placed it between Una’s thighs. The slavegirl lifted herself, spreading her legs co-operatively, so the support could be fixed at the correct height. Clementina carefully set the tip of the upward-pointing horn between the girl’s labia, then screwed the sedile firmly to the upright.
Une let her trunk sink slowly, carefully, she felt the spike invading, pressing her genly but forcefully open, settling into the soft flesh of her vagina – it hurt a little, she squeaked as it penetrated, but she soon felt it as intensely pleasurable, as her body-weight relaxed onto the hard support. She wiggled her hips a little, beginning to experiment, she found she could move about quite a bit, it only hurt if she thrust too suddenly or too hard, then the point of the horn would give her a sharp reminder, otherwise she was finding it a most welcome visitor inside her.
Arbor was now examining Duo, having watched her sister being fitted, she was eager to co-operate.
“Celtica,” was Arbor’s recommendation for her, “That’s a fine cornu for a lively youngster.”
“Yep,” he added to his friend Admius, re-joining him while Clementina fitted Duo with her spike, “I’ve crucified more women on Barbariana than you’ve had hot pancakes, and Celtica’s worked wonders with the daughters of crazy chieftains who give trouble to Rome – I just wish they gave us more.”
“Trouble?” asked Admius.
“Nope, daughters.”
“Daughters are trouble,” interjected Augusta, who had arrived on the scene with Pompilius in tow.
She marched across to Una, who sighed and stopped enjoying herself on the cornu at the sight of her mother.
“Well, have you learnt your lesson?”
“Have I learnt my lesson?” responded Una angrily, “I hope you’ve learnt yours, you’ve made a complete cock-up of your scheme, haven’t you? First you try to marry me off to a total idiot, then you bugger up your silly game at the slave-market and accidently sell me to Isabella, then when the crook you wanted to be my father-in-law kidnaps my sister, you can’t even ransom her, Polly has to do it!”
“H’m, it seems you’ve still got a lot to learn, young lady,” said Augusta sourly, “Nevertheless, Isabella has kindly said she will release you to me if you want to come home.”
“Home? After all you’ve done to me, you expect me to call that stinking place home? I’d be more at home in a slaves’ knocking-shop.”
“That I can well believe, you ungrateful wretch! That’s just where you’ll end up, if you don’t get crucified with nails on the Appian Way – Isabella’s got the right idea, getting you trained up for your execution!”
Una wanted to spit, but her mouth was dry. Augusta turned on her heel,
“Right, Pompilius, we’re disowning that one, get Baldrikos to draw up a deed of disownment. Isabella can do what she likes with the bitch.”
“Er, yes dear,” sighed her husband meekly.
“And how about you?” she fired her question at Duo.
Duo paused for a few moments, breathing slowly, then replied,
“Well, Mother, I am grateful – and I think in truth Valentina’s glad too – that you gave us this chance to learn what it means to be a slavegirl.”
“H’m, that’s a bit better. Are you willing to come back home with us?”
Again Duo paused, then answered thoughtfully, “I’d only go back to Villa Pomplii to be a slavegirl, to work with Uli at the Bean-Mill.”
Augusta frowned, “You still refuse to go to the Vestal Virgins’ Academy?”
Duo shut her eyes, she felt hot tears, she cursed Iobbus and Blattus, and Gruntus and all the other men who’d had the chance to take her virginity yet left her intact, she cursed that, for all the bumps and burns and bruises on her body, she still wasn’t branded as a slave. She wanted to stamp her foot, but her bondage wouldn’t let her, she just jumped up from the sedile,
“No, no, NO!!! I WILL NOT!”
Augusta looked furious, turned to Pompilius, who whispered something Duo couldn’t catch, then she turned back to her daughter and just said coldly,
“Well in that case, Isabella will decide what becomes of you, too. Come on, Pompilius, Isabella’s waiting for us in the porticus – oh, just look at these lovely terraces, we really must have a garden like this at our island retreat!”
With that, the parents departed.
They were soon joined by another couple who were all-too-familiar to both girls, Whip-Master Lucius and Whip-Mistress Clementina, evidently hitting it off with each other very well, to judge by their smiles. Clementina decided it was time to re-fit the sedilia so the dancers could have little relief from the strain in their limbs and trunks. But when the slaves brought the pair of small wooden supports, they also carried a box labelled CORNUA – NAILUS MARTYRÆ – ARBOR INC.
Clementina was in conversation with Arbor, they both approached Una, and she found herself being intimately examined, gently but firmly, but the man’s fingers, probing between her sex-lips and feling under her perineum to where her buttocks rubbed the rough cross-wood. She wriggled responsively with a slight yelp – of surprise and pleasure, not disgust or pain.
“This one will fit a Barbariana to a T,” opined Arbor in his low, drawling accent, “that’s my best-selling line, the cornu of choice for nubile young ladies.”
“One Barbariana!” the Whip-Mistress ordered, Una and Duo both watched as a slavegirl extracted from the box and handed over a small, elegantly polished, slightly curved, pointed horn, which Clementina fitted into the slot in the sedile, and then placed it between Una’s thighs. The slavegirl lifted herself, spreading her legs co-operatively, so the support could be fixed at the correct height. Clementina carefully set the tip of the upward-pointing horn between the girl’s labia, then screwed the sedile firmly to the upright.
Une let her trunk sink slowly, carefully, she felt the spike invading, pressing her genly but forcefully open, settling into the soft flesh of her vagina – it hurt a little, she squeaked as it penetrated, but she soon felt it as intensely pleasurable, as her body-weight relaxed onto the hard support. She wiggled her hips a little, beginning to experiment, she found she could move about quite a bit, it only hurt if she thrust too suddenly or too hard, then the point of the horn would give her a sharp reminder, otherwise she was finding it a most welcome visitor inside her.
Arbor was now examining Duo, having watched her sister being fitted, she was eager to co-operate.
“Celtica,” was Arbor’s recommendation for her, “That’s a fine cornu for a lively youngster.”
“Yep,” he added to his friend Admius, re-joining him while Clementina fitted Duo with her spike, “I’ve crucified more women on Barbariana than you’ve had hot pancakes, and Celtica’s worked wonders with the daughters of crazy chieftains who give trouble to Rome – I just wish they gave us more.”
“Trouble?” asked Admius.
“Nope, daughters.”
“Daughters are trouble,” interjected Augusta, who had arrived on the scene with Pompilius in tow.
She marched across to Una, who sighed and stopped enjoying herself on the cornu at the sight of her mother.
“Well, have you learnt your lesson?”
“Have I learnt my lesson?” responded Una angrily, “I hope you’ve learnt yours, you’ve made a complete cock-up of your scheme, haven’t you? First you try to marry me off to a total idiot, then you bugger up your silly game at the slave-market and accidently sell me to Isabella, then when the crook you wanted to be my father-in-law kidnaps my sister, you can’t even ransom her, Polly has to do it!”
“H’m, it seems you’ve still got a lot to learn, young lady,” said Augusta sourly, “Nevertheless, Isabella has kindly said she will release you to me if you want to come home.”
“Home? After all you’ve done to me, you expect me to call that stinking place home? I’d be more at home in a slaves’ knocking-shop.”
“That I can well believe, you ungrateful wretch! That’s just where you’ll end up, if you don’t get crucified with nails on the Appian Way – Isabella’s got the right idea, getting you trained up for your execution!”
Una wanted to spit, but her mouth was dry. Augusta turned on her heel,
“Right, Pompilius, we’re disowning that one, get Baldrikos to draw up a deed of disownment. Isabella can do what she likes with the bitch.”
“Er, yes dear,” sighed her husband meekly.
“And how about you?” she fired her question at Duo.
Duo paused for a few moments, breathing slowly, then replied,
“Well, Mother, I am grateful – and I think in truth Valentina’s glad too – that you gave us this chance to learn what it means to be a slavegirl.”
“H’m, that’s a bit better. Are you willing to come back home with us?”
Again Duo paused, then answered thoughtfully, “I’d only go back to Villa Pomplii to be a slavegirl, to work with Uli at the Bean-Mill.”
Augusta frowned, “You still refuse to go to the Vestal Virgins’ Academy?”
Duo shut her eyes, she felt hot tears, she cursed Iobbus and Blattus, and Gruntus and all the other men who’d had the chance to take her virginity yet left her intact, she cursed that, for all the bumps and burns and bruises on her body, she still wasn’t branded as a slave. She wanted to stamp her foot, but her bondage wouldn’t let her, she just jumped up from the sedile,
“No, no, NO!!! I WILL NOT!”
Augusta looked furious, turned to Pompilius, who whispered something Duo couldn’t catch, then she turned back to her daughter and just said coldly,
“Well in that case, Isabella will decide what becomes of you, too. Come on, Pompilius, Isabella’s waiting for us in the porticus – oh, just look at these lovely terraces, we really must have a garden like this at our island retreat!”
With that, the parents departed.
...until you and Siss are brought to auction..."Barbariana"?Love this .... teeheee
Tree
...thinking out loud...
While Una and Duo were dancing on their crosses to the delectation of large crowds of guests, there were of course other attractions, Aphrodite had organised things pretty well - there were musicians and dancing girls, acrobats and gymnasts, clowns and comic turns, jugglers and conjurers, not to mention the delightful gardens, unending supplies of fine food, tastings of the new vintage of Villa Isabella's special reserve wine, Lac Puellae Verberatae ‘whipped-girl’s-milk’.
That temptingly-named wine was appropriately accompanied by another popular sideshow in the lower corner of the grounds. It was an impromptu event that didn't appear on the programme - one thing Aphrodite had overlooked was the risk of allowing the vineyard slavegirls an afternoon off, free of any supervision. Of course the girls had the good sense not to gatecrash the party, but Melissa, with her slave-mistress's instinct, detected giggling and horseplay in the bushes just outside, so she soon had them lined up and organised a Flick-it Match - a game that was based on one that had traditionally been played by male slaves, but a version adapted for women was becoming very popular both among the slavegirls and the male spectators.
She chose two strong-looking slaves as team-captains, they picked their teams, tossed an as (a cent) to decide who'd go in to whip first. The girls who were to be whipped were fitted with nipple tassels, and one by one they came up to the Whipping-Stump. The aim of the whip-girl was to flick the tassels off, when both were knocked off, that girl was out and the next one came in. The girls being whipped earned 'stripes' for each lash they took that left a proper mark; they didn't get any stripes if they dodged the lash, though doing that might keep their tassels on longer. So the aim of the whip-girls was to get all the whipped-girls out for the least number of stripes, the aim of the whipped-girls was to stay at the stump as long as possible, get as many stripes as they could take, while dodging to avoid losing their nipple-tassels. Melissa appointed a senior slave-woman who'd got good marks in the slaves' maths test to do the difficult job of keeping score (she had to record 'extras', like 'wides' that missed the target entirely and 'no hits' that weren't delivered from behind the cord stretched on the grass); Melissa and Aphrodite acted as umpires, ruling on disputed points such as whether a stripe was sufficiently red to be counted.
An appreciative crowd soon gathered, sipping wine, eating strawberries, and politely applauding the skillful lashing of the whip-girls (some fast floggers, some slow and sneaky, some craftily putting a spin in their strokes to deceive their targets) and the courage of whipped ones who took plenty of stripes, though they slow-handclapped one or two who they thought too defensive in their dodging and weaving. It all made for an idyllic afternoon's sport.
That temptingly-named wine was appropriately accompanied by another popular sideshow in the lower corner of the grounds. It was an impromptu event that didn't appear on the programme - one thing Aphrodite had overlooked was the risk of allowing the vineyard slavegirls an afternoon off, free of any supervision. Of course the girls had the good sense not to gatecrash the party, but Melissa, with her slave-mistress's instinct, detected giggling and horseplay in the bushes just outside, so she soon had them lined up and organised a Flick-it Match - a game that was based on one that had traditionally been played by male slaves, but a version adapted for women was becoming very popular both among the slavegirls and the male spectators.
She chose two strong-looking slaves as team-captains, they picked their teams, tossed an as (a cent) to decide who'd go in to whip first. The girls who were to be whipped were fitted with nipple tassels, and one by one they came up to the Whipping-Stump. The aim of the whip-girl was to flick the tassels off, when both were knocked off, that girl was out and the next one came in. The girls being whipped earned 'stripes' for each lash they took that left a proper mark; they didn't get any stripes if they dodged the lash, though doing that might keep their tassels on longer. So the aim of the whip-girls was to get all the whipped-girls out for the least number of stripes, the aim of the whipped-girls was to stay at the stump as long as possible, get as many stripes as they could take, while dodging to avoid losing their nipple-tassels. Melissa appointed a senior slave-woman who'd got good marks in the slaves' maths test to do the difficult job of keeping score (she had to record 'extras', like 'wides' that missed the target entirely and 'no hits' that weren't delivered from behind the cord stretched on the grass); Melissa and Aphrodite acted as umpires, ruling on disputed points such as whether a stripe was sufficiently red to be counted.
An appreciative crowd soon gathered, sipping wine, eating strawberries, and politely applauding the skillful lashing of the whip-girls (some fast floggers, some slow and sneaky, some craftily putting a spin in their strokes to deceive their targets) and the courage of whipped ones who took plenty of stripes, though they slow-handclapped one or two who they thought too defensive in their dodging and weaving. It all made for an idyllic afternoon's sport.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
What a brilliantly thought-out game.
"Let's just burn these two tassles then put what's left into this tiny urn, we could play for it as a trophy, what could we call it?"
T
The Fallen Angel
Guest
I took my eye off the ball then and Eulalia beat me to it! Fortunately the game never caught on in Germania otherwise England would surely have lost the Lashes on penalties.the Lashes?
Isabella had emerged from her bath and been dressed by her handmaids – her wardrobe was not extensive, it didn’t need to be, as she lived most of the time in her bath – but for the party she wore a striking green robe decorated with purple grapes thrown casually over a long, golden silk stola that reached to her sandalled feet yet revealed her shapely form, instantly upstaging and infuriating all Rome’s leading ladies who were seated on cushioned benches in the shade of the portico. Although chairs were provided for the gentlemen under awnings, many preferred to stand out on the terrace where they could continue to enjoy the slow gyrations of the crucified sisters, as well as the array of other nude or scantily-clad slavegirls kneeling in ordered rows on the knee-grazing gravel, hands behind backs, heads bowed, awaiting any tasks they might be ordered to perform.
She stood on a podium in an arched alcove at the centre of the portico, an exedra carefully designed to raise her above all her audience and to amplify her fine, clear soprano voice. An expectant hush fell in the early evening air.
‘Friends, Romans, fellow-citizens and slaves – can you all hear me? Good! You won’t want to miss this! Firstly, welcome to my modest abode, I’m delighted you’ve all graced my gardens with your presence this glorious afternoon, I hope you’ve enjoyed the fruits of the labours of my kitchen-slaves and – especially – of my vineyards. The vintage of Lac Puellae Verberatae we’ve tasted today is, I say it proudly, the finest yet, and this year’s harvest promises us something even more special.
But the first news I have to proclaim to you concerns not wine but another drink. We’re all now happily addicted to the wondrous bean-beverage that Borus Ridiculus Pompilius has introduced to Rome, the drink we now call ‘coffee’, that has won the heart even of our illustrious Divine Emperor.’
(pause for polite applause)
I am proud and happy to tell you today, dear friends, that I have been in negotiation with Pompilius, I have made him an offer which he has accepted, and that now I, Isabella Insatiabilis, am the sole owner of Starcrux Enterprises, holder of the Imperial Warrant, supplier of hot drinks to the Imperial Army, and franchised to establish and maintain refreshment-houses at all the crucifixion stations along the Imperial Chariotways throughout the entire Empire!’
There were gasps of astonishment, even Una and Duo glanced at each other wide-eyed with surprise, whatever will this mean?
‘Pompilius, as you already rejoice to know, is to be our next Senator, his only opponent having departed in dubious circumstances and unseemly haste -’ (applause, some mocking laughter at her allusion to the disgraced Blattus), ‘and I understand that he and his dear wife Augusta plan to purchase an island in the Adriatic Sea where they may retreat from the cares of high office.’
Again, the two sisters exchanged bemused looks. Una tried to shrug, but that’s difficult when you’re hanging on a cross, so she just rolled her eyes, Duo grinned sardonically.
‘Now I intend, of course, to maintain and build upon the magnificent achievements of Starcrux, the amalgamation of that business with Isabella’s Vineyards will bring advantages to both, and enormous benefits to the people of Rome and its Empire. Any restructuring will be carried out after wide-ranging consultation. But there are few small changes I can announce today, affecting certain individuals who have been close – very close – to the heart of Pompilius’s operations.’
Everyone was expectant, Una and Duo, although they could hear well, had their backs towards Isabella, each instinctively strained to turn her head and try to look behind her, over the cross-bar.
‘Firstly, Whip-Master Lucius, please step forward, along with my Whip-Mistress, Clementina!’
The two were already side by side, and they walked smartly up the path towards Isabella with smiles on their faces, their well-oiled ceremonial whips gleaming in their hands. They knelt on the step at the Mistress’s feet. She placed her hands on their heads.
‘Lucius and Clementina, today and forthwith, I grant you your freedom. And –‘ her handmaid passed her a substantial leather purse, ‘I give you this purse of gold, so that you two can get married and set yourselves up in business, as the first-ever professional Whipping Agency. Citizens of Rome,’ Isabella resumed her position and addressed the crowd, ‘your seditious slavegirls and disobedient daughters need trouble you no longer, Lucius and Clementina will provide a bespoke service guaranteed to bring the most recalcitrant wenches to heel!’
Loud applause, slaves were already handing out business papyri to prospective customers.
‘Mistress Melissa!’
Melissa had been sitting in a corner behind the posh ladies, chatting with Pollia, she hurried along the portico to some tutting from conservative types who felt a mere slavewoman should not be sharing their privileged enclosure, but Isabella had no truck with such snobbery.
‘Melissa, as housekeeper and slave-mistress at the Villa Pompilii, I know you have found your true vocation, and displayed outstanding ability as a guide and inspiration to the slavegirls under you. I am appointing you Head Slavemistress of all my household and of Starcrux and Isabella’s Vineyards. I know that under your leadership, we shall have an Academy, a Beacon of Excellence, in the training and disciplining of slavegirls.’
Melissa curtsied politely, there was a good deal of applause, Isabella’s slavegirls realising it would be in their best interests to look pleased – as indeed those who knew anything of slavegirl life in and around Rome were, Melissa was well-known and highly respected in the Crucis Fora network.
‘Slavegirl Uli and slavegirl Luna!’
The two had been listening from the back of the crowd, down below the crucifixion terrace, they were astonished to hear their names, paused in disbelief–
‘Uli! Luna!’
They scuttled up the pathway, squeezing between the tall men on the terrace, and up the steps to prostrate themselves before the mighty Isabella. She flicked her fingers for them to kneel up, they kept their heads bowed.
‘Uli, it’s no exaggeration to say that the success of Starcrux Imperial Blend, the fact that it delights the refined taste even of our great Emperor, owe a great deal to your skillful grinding.’
Uli blushed, whispered ‘Thankyou, Mistress.’
‘You must, of course, continue to work at the Mill. But I have ordered that you be treated with much greater care and respect. Those vile wretches who abused you in the pretence of being overseers, and who connived in the kidnapping of slavegirl Duo, are even now being whipped along the Appian Way to be crucified at the Imperial Crucifixion Station – where they’ll have the chance to enjoy the aroma of Special Blend being served to a large crowd of spectators while they're writhing on their crosses!’
There were murmurs of approval, several men and some of the women too decided they’d stop off on the way home tonight to take a look at this exhibition of Roman Justice.
‘And I know you also have some talents as a poet and singer –‘
Uli blushed even deeper.
‘So, instead of being treated as just one of the slave-army and living in slave-quarters, when you are not grinding at the Mill you will be the personal handmaid and bardslave of Starcrux Chief Executive Officer Admius.’
Admius was seated with Arbor under an awning to the side, Uli humbly thanked Isabella, then, instructed by one of the handmaids, went and knelt beside him.
‘And slavegirl Luna, you have played a very valuable part as a messenger and reporter in the slave-network known as Crucis Fora.’
Some muttering could be heard at these words.
'Yes, fellow-citizens, I know some of you regard Crucis Fora as a dubious, dangerous, even subversive set-up. I know it is not. I have taken the trouble to monitor its activities, and I can assure you that it is an entirely commendable organisation, providing valuable help and support for our slavegirls, especially the newbies, exchanging admirable examples in pictures and stories, setting the highest standards of slavegirl behaviour. And you, Luna, have obvious abilities that I intend to put to good use – I appoint you my reporter-slave, and commission you to compose writings to be circulated among the slaves – and, if they care to read them, as I strongly recommend they should – the slave-owners too. As the great Virgil composed the epic of our noble and warlike ancestors, so you, Luna, will write the epic of our busy slavegirls, without whom our mighty Empire would soon decline and fall.’
Luna thanked Isabella, looked a little perplexed as to where she should go, the handmaid signalled her to join Uli for the moment.
‘Now there are two other slavegirls who aren’t in a position to come up to me, I must perforce go down to where they are….’
She stood on a podium in an arched alcove at the centre of the portico, an exedra carefully designed to raise her above all her audience and to amplify her fine, clear soprano voice. An expectant hush fell in the early evening air.
‘Friends, Romans, fellow-citizens and slaves – can you all hear me? Good! You won’t want to miss this! Firstly, welcome to my modest abode, I’m delighted you’ve all graced my gardens with your presence this glorious afternoon, I hope you’ve enjoyed the fruits of the labours of my kitchen-slaves and – especially – of my vineyards. The vintage of Lac Puellae Verberatae we’ve tasted today is, I say it proudly, the finest yet, and this year’s harvest promises us something even more special.
But the first news I have to proclaim to you concerns not wine but another drink. We’re all now happily addicted to the wondrous bean-beverage that Borus Ridiculus Pompilius has introduced to Rome, the drink we now call ‘coffee’, that has won the heart even of our illustrious Divine Emperor.’
(pause for polite applause)
I am proud and happy to tell you today, dear friends, that I have been in negotiation with Pompilius, I have made him an offer which he has accepted, and that now I, Isabella Insatiabilis, am the sole owner of Starcrux Enterprises, holder of the Imperial Warrant, supplier of hot drinks to the Imperial Army, and franchised to establish and maintain refreshment-houses at all the crucifixion stations along the Imperial Chariotways throughout the entire Empire!’
There were gasps of astonishment, even Una and Duo glanced at each other wide-eyed with surprise, whatever will this mean?
‘Pompilius, as you already rejoice to know, is to be our next Senator, his only opponent having departed in dubious circumstances and unseemly haste -’ (applause, some mocking laughter at her allusion to the disgraced Blattus), ‘and I understand that he and his dear wife Augusta plan to purchase an island in the Adriatic Sea where they may retreat from the cares of high office.’
Again, the two sisters exchanged bemused looks. Una tried to shrug, but that’s difficult when you’re hanging on a cross, so she just rolled her eyes, Duo grinned sardonically.
‘Now I intend, of course, to maintain and build upon the magnificent achievements of Starcrux, the amalgamation of that business with Isabella’s Vineyards will bring advantages to both, and enormous benefits to the people of Rome and its Empire. Any restructuring will be carried out after wide-ranging consultation. But there are few small changes I can announce today, affecting certain individuals who have been close – very close – to the heart of Pompilius’s operations.’
Everyone was expectant, Una and Duo, although they could hear well, had their backs towards Isabella, each instinctively strained to turn her head and try to look behind her, over the cross-bar.
‘Firstly, Whip-Master Lucius, please step forward, along with my Whip-Mistress, Clementina!’
The two were already side by side, and they walked smartly up the path towards Isabella with smiles on their faces, their well-oiled ceremonial whips gleaming in their hands. They knelt on the step at the Mistress’s feet. She placed her hands on their heads.
‘Lucius and Clementina, today and forthwith, I grant you your freedom. And –‘ her handmaid passed her a substantial leather purse, ‘I give you this purse of gold, so that you two can get married and set yourselves up in business, as the first-ever professional Whipping Agency. Citizens of Rome,’ Isabella resumed her position and addressed the crowd, ‘your seditious slavegirls and disobedient daughters need trouble you no longer, Lucius and Clementina will provide a bespoke service guaranteed to bring the most recalcitrant wenches to heel!’
Loud applause, slaves were already handing out business papyri to prospective customers.
‘Mistress Melissa!’
Melissa had been sitting in a corner behind the posh ladies, chatting with Pollia, she hurried along the portico to some tutting from conservative types who felt a mere slavewoman should not be sharing their privileged enclosure, but Isabella had no truck with such snobbery.
‘Melissa, as housekeeper and slave-mistress at the Villa Pompilii, I know you have found your true vocation, and displayed outstanding ability as a guide and inspiration to the slavegirls under you. I am appointing you Head Slavemistress of all my household and of Starcrux and Isabella’s Vineyards. I know that under your leadership, we shall have an Academy, a Beacon of Excellence, in the training and disciplining of slavegirls.’
Melissa curtsied politely, there was a good deal of applause, Isabella’s slavegirls realising it would be in their best interests to look pleased – as indeed those who knew anything of slavegirl life in and around Rome were, Melissa was well-known and highly respected in the Crucis Fora network.
‘Slavegirl Uli and slavegirl Luna!’
The two had been listening from the back of the crowd, down below the crucifixion terrace, they were astonished to hear their names, paused in disbelief–
‘Uli! Luna!’
They scuttled up the pathway, squeezing between the tall men on the terrace, and up the steps to prostrate themselves before the mighty Isabella. She flicked her fingers for them to kneel up, they kept their heads bowed.
‘Uli, it’s no exaggeration to say that the success of Starcrux Imperial Blend, the fact that it delights the refined taste even of our great Emperor, owe a great deal to your skillful grinding.’
Uli blushed, whispered ‘Thankyou, Mistress.’
‘You must, of course, continue to work at the Mill. But I have ordered that you be treated with much greater care and respect. Those vile wretches who abused you in the pretence of being overseers, and who connived in the kidnapping of slavegirl Duo, are even now being whipped along the Appian Way to be crucified at the Imperial Crucifixion Station – where they’ll have the chance to enjoy the aroma of Special Blend being served to a large crowd of spectators while they're writhing on their crosses!’
There were murmurs of approval, several men and some of the women too decided they’d stop off on the way home tonight to take a look at this exhibition of Roman Justice.
‘And I know you also have some talents as a poet and singer –‘
Uli blushed even deeper.
‘So, instead of being treated as just one of the slave-army and living in slave-quarters, when you are not grinding at the Mill you will be the personal handmaid and bardslave of Starcrux Chief Executive Officer Admius.’
Admius was seated with Arbor under an awning to the side, Uli humbly thanked Isabella, then, instructed by one of the handmaids, went and knelt beside him.
‘And slavegirl Luna, you have played a very valuable part as a messenger and reporter in the slave-network known as Crucis Fora.’
Some muttering could be heard at these words.
'Yes, fellow-citizens, I know some of you regard Crucis Fora as a dubious, dangerous, even subversive set-up. I know it is not. I have taken the trouble to monitor its activities, and I can assure you that it is an entirely commendable organisation, providing valuable help and support for our slavegirls, especially the newbies, exchanging admirable examples in pictures and stories, setting the highest standards of slavegirl behaviour. And you, Luna, have obvious abilities that I intend to put to good use – I appoint you my reporter-slave, and commission you to compose writings to be circulated among the slaves – and, if they care to read them, as I strongly recommend they should – the slave-owners too. As the great Virgil composed the epic of our noble and warlike ancestors, so you, Luna, will write the epic of our busy slavegirls, without whom our mighty Empire would soon decline and fall.’
Luna thanked Isabella, looked a little perplexed as to where she should go, the handmaid signalled her to join Uli for the moment.
‘Now there are two other slavegirls who aren’t in a position to come up to me, I must perforce go down to where they are….’
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T
The Fallen Angel
Guest
What a speech!......so what happens to Una and Duo?????
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Likewise.
I don't want this story to end, it's so clever.
I will remember it whenever I stop at a Starcrux on the Chariotway.
Isabella proceeded down the pathway to the terrace where Una and Duo tensed their tired bodies instinctively, the attendant slavegirls knelt, the male spectators stood aside, the Mistress positioned herself before the two crosses and smiled.
‘These two slavegirls,’ she began, in a loud, clear tone, ‘have, I know, performed their cross-dances excellently, and given us all great pleasure this afternoon –‘
At once there came an appreciative cheer and applause, especially from the men. Though now well sunburnt, the two girls’ faces, shoulders and breasts acquired a crimson blush.
‘They are, as you all know, rather unusual slavegirls, being indeed the daughters of Pompilius and Augustus, who have set an outstanding example of wise parenting by requiring them to experience life as slaves.’
Murmurs of interest and approval from the crowd, especially, this time, from the matrons in the portico.
‘’Things turned out, as fate always will, not quite as expected. By a chapter of accidents, both girls have arrived here, in my care and keeping at Villa Isabella, and it has fallen to me to decide what their futures shall be. With the help of a little persuasion –‘
Isabella winked, Una and Duo both quivered at the recollection of their ordeals and were suddenly very conscious of the red marks of torture still ornamenting their bare bodies –
‘I have learnt from them the truth, the real truth, about their deepest longings for themselves, and it has been my task to try to ensure that their wishes are fulfilled.’
The sisters’ eyes were wide, and so were those of many the audience, including all of the slavegirls. Isabella moved over to where Una was hanging.
‘Slavegirl Una, otherwise known as Valentina, elder daughter of Pompilius and Augusta. You have told me that you have been very happy here in Villa Isabella, serving me, and my daughter Aphrodite, in all the ways expected of our slavegirls –‘
A few sniggers in the crowd were quickly snuffed by stern looks from the elders,
‘but you revealed that your deepest desire is for a man, a strong man, to be your Master and protector. You even named the man of your dreams –‘
Una gasped in astonishment, no, this can’t be true…
‘I have consulted your parents, and the parents of that man, and am now formally –‘
She reached out and placed her hand on Una’s shaved pubes, conveniently within reach,
‘making a gift of you to the eminent slave-trader Bonus Maximus and his wife Maxima, so you can be the slavegirl-concubine of their son, Muscularius Maximus. and – provided she asks him nicely – the plaything from time to time of his sister Titania!’
So amazed was Una, she hadn’t heard a rustle of movement behind her, as a wooden case was positioned behind her cross. Now she suddenly felt a pair of mighty male hands encircling her bosom, grasping her quivering breasts, a deep, firm, but loving voice spoke in her ear,
‘You’re mine now, Una, mine, all mine!’
She threw her head back against the crossbar, immediately his face met hers and his lips and tongue attacked her with a vigorous, seemingly endless kiss, to which she responded with life that moments earlier she thought had ebbed out of her in her long afternoon’s crucifixion.
Titania too had reappeared, and was once more hugging and stroking Una’s weary legs, licking the moisture that was oozing generously down her thighs. Bonus Maximus and his wife were watching with smiles of satisfaction, Augusta and Pompilius conspicuous by their absence.
‘You may take her down,’ Isabella instructed the attendants, but Muscularius chipped in,
‘That’s okay, Madam, I’ll handle her myself, I’m used to dealing with slavegirls!’
Isabella turned now to Duo, who had watched with amusement and delight as her sister’s dreams so suddenly became true, she recalled that morning in the Slave-Market, when Muscularius had named her and hung her titulus, and she’d first experienced the now familiar but to her still delicious sense of becoming a slave.
‘You,slavegirl Duo, otherwise Junia, have also revealed to me your deepest desires. I know that you, even more than your sister, are a true, natural slave to the core of your being. Your wish is correspondingly greater and more challenging for me to fulfil. I can tell you I am well on the way, but there are some details that still have to be confirmed – never mind,’
Duo was indeed looking crestfallen, Isabella patted her sweat-streaked loin reassuringly,
‘I can promise you your wish will be granted – for now, it remains a secret between us. You’ll stay with me here, in Villa Isabella, serving as handmaid to Aphrodite, and undergoing a programme of preparation and training that will be necessary for our secret ambition to be achieved.’
She smiled, and Duo returned the smile. Aphrodite was beside her and asked quietly,
‘Do you want to come down off the cross now?’
Duo hesitated for a few seconds, she was still somewhat bewildered, then gathered her wits,
‘Er – oh, no – no thankyou Mistress… I’m supposed to be here all through the evening…’
‘Okay!’ Aphrodite grinned, slapped Duo’s thigh, ‘you’re a great little trouper, Duo – I’ll get you some water, you can start dancing again for the guests when you’re ready.’
Isabella had returned to the podium, a pair of bucinatores blew a raucous fanfare to signal that the Mistress hadn’t finished with her announcements, indeed she had kept the most important for last...
‘These two slavegirls,’ she began, in a loud, clear tone, ‘have, I know, performed their cross-dances excellently, and given us all great pleasure this afternoon –‘
At once there came an appreciative cheer and applause, especially from the men. Though now well sunburnt, the two girls’ faces, shoulders and breasts acquired a crimson blush.
‘They are, as you all know, rather unusual slavegirls, being indeed the daughters of Pompilius and Augustus, who have set an outstanding example of wise parenting by requiring them to experience life as slaves.’
Murmurs of interest and approval from the crowd, especially, this time, from the matrons in the portico.
‘’Things turned out, as fate always will, not quite as expected. By a chapter of accidents, both girls have arrived here, in my care and keeping at Villa Isabella, and it has fallen to me to decide what their futures shall be. With the help of a little persuasion –‘
Isabella winked, Una and Duo both quivered at the recollection of their ordeals and were suddenly very conscious of the red marks of torture still ornamenting their bare bodies –
‘I have learnt from them the truth, the real truth, about their deepest longings for themselves, and it has been my task to try to ensure that their wishes are fulfilled.’
The sisters’ eyes were wide, and so were those of many the audience, including all of the slavegirls. Isabella moved over to where Una was hanging.
‘Slavegirl Una, otherwise known as Valentina, elder daughter of Pompilius and Augusta. You have told me that you have been very happy here in Villa Isabella, serving me, and my daughter Aphrodite, in all the ways expected of our slavegirls –‘
A few sniggers in the crowd were quickly snuffed by stern looks from the elders,
‘but you revealed that your deepest desire is for a man, a strong man, to be your Master and protector. You even named the man of your dreams –‘
Una gasped in astonishment, no, this can’t be true…
‘I have consulted your parents, and the parents of that man, and am now formally –‘
She reached out and placed her hand on Una’s shaved pubes, conveniently within reach,
‘making a gift of you to the eminent slave-trader Bonus Maximus and his wife Maxima, so you can be the slavegirl-concubine of their son, Muscularius Maximus. and – provided she asks him nicely – the plaything from time to time of his sister Titania!’
So amazed was Una, she hadn’t heard a rustle of movement behind her, as a wooden case was positioned behind her cross. Now she suddenly felt a pair of mighty male hands encircling her bosom, grasping her quivering breasts, a deep, firm, but loving voice spoke in her ear,
‘You’re mine now, Una, mine, all mine!’
She threw her head back against the crossbar, immediately his face met hers and his lips and tongue attacked her with a vigorous, seemingly endless kiss, to which she responded with life that moments earlier she thought had ebbed out of her in her long afternoon’s crucifixion.
Titania too had reappeared, and was once more hugging and stroking Una’s weary legs, licking the moisture that was oozing generously down her thighs. Bonus Maximus and his wife were watching with smiles of satisfaction, Augusta and Pompilius conspicuous by their absence.
‘You may take her down,’ Isabella instructed the attendants, but Muscularius chipped in,
‘That’s okay, Madam, I’ll handle her myself, I’m used to dealing with slavegirls!’
Isabella turned now to Duo, who had watched with amusement and delight as her sister’s dreams so suddenly became true, she recalled that morning in the Slave-Market, when Muscularius had named her and hung her titulus, and she’d first experienced the now familiar but to her still delicious sense of becoming a slave.
‘You,slavegirl Duo, otherwise Junia, have also revealed to me your deepest desires. I know that you, even more than your sister, are a true, natural slave to the core of your being. Your wish is correspondingly greater and more challenging for me to fulfil. I can tell you I am well on the way, but there are some details that still have to be confirmed – never mind,’
Duo was indeed looking crestfallen, Isabella patted her sweat-streaked loin reassuringly,
‘I can promise you your wish will be granted – for now, it remains a secret between us. You’ll stay with me here, in Villa Isabella, serving as handmaid to Aphrodite, and undergoing a programme of preparation and training that will be necessary for our secret ambition to be achieved.’
She smiled, and Duo returned the smile. Aphrodite was beside her and asked quietly,
‘Do you want to come down off the cross now?’
Duo hesitated for a few seconds, she was still somewhat bewildered, then gathered her wits,
‘Er – oh, no – no thankyou Mistress… I’m supposed to be here all through the evening…’
‘Okay!’ Aphrodite grinned, slapped Duo’s thigh, ‘you’re a great little trouper, Duo – I’ll get you some water, you can start dancing again for the guests when you’re ready.’
Isabella had returned to the podium, a pair of bucinatores blew a raucous fanfare to signal that the Mistress hadn’t finished with her announcements, indeed she had kept the most important for last...
oh... what a tangled web the slave bard weaves...
T
The Fallen Angel
Guest
I know that a spectacular is being planned but further than that I cannot say. I did ask Minotaur if he'd be going but he's officiating at the opening of several Starcrux shops that day. However, he does send his best wishes and also a clip of himself at the peak of his acting career. He's replaced the soundtrack with one of his favourite songs.
