Roman Enslavement

Notes: England was a part of the Roman Empire. For this story (and keep in mind that it\'s an alternate universe fantasy) I have the natives of that part of the Empire speaking a rough form of English called Britanic. One of the natives of that \'protectorate\', Rentic, was taken as slave many years before

This work is all original, and copyrighted.

Roman Enslavement
Part Two
by Scribe

They came to the slave broker\'s house of business, urging the woman up into the building. \\\\\"Okay, Denus, you watch her, while I find Tinactus.\"\\\\ Denus urged the woman over to a bench, and managed to get her to sit. He sat beside her on the bench.

She was looking around, wide eyed. \"Is this the American embassy? Why didn\'t I see any cars out there? I can understand banning cars in historic areas, and that did look pretty historic out there, but where were all the bicycles?\"

\\\\\"I can\'t understand what you say, but you have a sweet voice. I\'m sorry I have to sell you.\"\\\\

\"I know you\'re not getting this, but either I\'m crazy, or I\'m back a couple of thousand years, unless I\'m dreaming. If I\'m dreaming, this is a weird one. Nothing\'s really happening.\"

\\\\\"Such a shame. I like a woman with some flesh on her.\"\\\\ He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed.

Her eyes narrowed. \"That feels real, and even if it isn\'t I\'m about to go to lucid dreaming mode, \'cause you are too damn ratty to get
groped by.\" She knocked his hand away.

\\\\\"Hm. You are skittish. Well, you\'d better get over that right
quick. Not too many masters will put up with it.\"\\\\ He reached for her thigh again.

\"Stop it!\" She glared, scooting away. \"Gah, you Italian guys really
try to live up to your reputation. You are Italian, right? That\'s... that\'s Latin, and this... Whoo, buddy, it looks like Rome.
So you must be Italian, and I\'m... very lost.\"

Cletus came back, bowing and scraping beside a stocky man in a toga of fine linen. His hair was iron grey, but he looked vigorous. Mozelle looked at him curiously. At least this one seemed to be clean. That had to be an improvement, right?

\\\\\"I can\'t say how we appreciate you taking some of your valuable time, Tinactus.\"\\\\ Cletus fawned.

\\\\\"I wouldn\'t bother except you said she\'s a bit of an exotic. This the wench?\"\\\\

\\\\\"Yes, yes. Seems to have just dropped down from the heavens.\"\\\\

He sneered. \\\\\"Very poetic, Cletus. I assume you have papers?\"\\\\

Cletus shuffled his feet. \\\\\"That\'s a bit of a problem. She\'s freshly caught.\"\\\\

\\\\\"And you\'re sure she\'s a slave?\"\\\\ Tinactus took one of the woman\'s hands and examined it. At first Mozelle had thought he was going to shake hands, but he turned her hand over in his, studying it. He worked the knuckles, rubbed the skin on the back. \\\\\"The hand is soft. What kind of work has she done? Nice plump figure. She must have been some old master\'s spoiled darling. What brought you on the market, pretty?\"\\\\ He turned her hand over, and stroked her palm. \\\\\"Could do nice things with these hands.\"\\\\

She jerked her arm away, scooting back on the bench. \"What is it
with you guys? Quit it.\"

Tinactus\' eyes sparkled. \\\\\"Well, someone doesn\'t know their place. That makes it interesting. In most cases it would be a liability, but sometimes it\'s a selling point. I have a select clientel that likes that.\"\\\\

He clapped his hands and two burly slaves entered from the back. The woman eyed them nervously. \\\\\"She\'s not stupid, I think. She\'s getting the feel that she\'s in trouble. I\'ll give you...\"\\\\ He cocked his head. \\\\\"Twenty dinars.\"\\\\

Denus gave a glad grin. \\\\\"Cletus, that will leave us...\"\\\\

Cletus elbowed him sharply. \\\\\"That isn\'t enough.\"\\\\

Tinactus shrugged. \\\\\"I expected to have to bargain, but you have to
realize--she\'s an unknown quantity. I don\'t know her strengths, aside from the obvious ones.\"\\\\ He touched her breast.

Tinactus expected a reaction, but not quite the one he got. Instead of flinching away, or even slapping at him, she balled up her hand into a fist, and punched him. It was good that she didn\'t have much strength, because she certainly had the will. As it was, it was a nasty shock. The second the blow had landed she bolted past him, headed for the outside door. His slaves reacted just as quickly, going after her. Before they came together, Tinactus called sharply \\\\\"Don\'t mark her!\"\\\\

The slaves didn\'t like that much. It was a lot more difficult to control a squirming, biting, clawing woman if they weren\'t allowed to strike her. But they managed. In a moment, they had her arms, and were trying to avoid her thrashing feet. Tinactus approached slowly, rubbing the sore place on his cheek. \\\\\"You say you found her on the alter of Discord? Very appropriate.\"\\\\

The woman went still, tensed, glaring at him. \"Don\'t you touch me,
motherfucker!\"

He smiled. \\\\\"I do believe I\'m being sworn at. I don\'t know the language, but the tone is hard to mistake. You\'re a feisty thing, aren\'t you? Should be a lot of fun to break. All right. Forty dinars, no more without papers.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Done.\"\\\\ Cletus accepted quickly. He was eager to get the money and leave. Actually, Tinactus could have simply thrown them out, and appropriated the woman. He\'d have had a much easier time of explaining an undocumented slave than they would.

Tinactus removed a bag from his belt and shook it open. He sorted
through the contents, and removed a handful of coins, pouring them into Cletus\' eagerly outstretched hand. \\\\\"Done, and done. Well, my dear.\"\\\\ He smiled at the woman. \\\\\"You\'ve just been sold for the first time.\"\\\\

She stared, mouth dropping open, looking between the two men. You could see the cogs turning in her mind, and understanding welled up in her eyes. The attention she\'d been getting, the exchange of money... \"No! No fucking way! I am not property! And I\'m damn sure not your property.\"

\\\\\"I do believe she understands. Get her collared and in the common room.\"\\\\

The woman had started struggling again, and one of the slaves holding her grunted, \\\\\"Standard brand, Master?\"\\\\

\\\\\"Didn\'t I say I don\'t want her marked? Just what I\'ve said. And don\'t go putting your hands, or any other part of you sorry bodies, where they shouldn\'t be, or I\'ll remove the offending article.\"\\\\

She was tired, and so confused that she was almost disoriented. What was happening was so far outside her realm of experience that it was tempting to just write it off to a bizarre dream, sit back, and let it roll by. But she had the idea that, if she did so, she would descend into madness. And she didn\'t want to be crazy in this world. It was dangerous.

If she needed any proof that it was real, the steel band around her neck was solid enough. The fitting had been humiliating. Her hands were held firmly behind her back, and she was bent over, her head trapped under one rather ripe smelling man\'s arm. He was only wearing a sort of skirt, and he\'d been sweating.

A stretched metal hoop was fitted around her neck, and they used some sort of forcepts to force the ends together. There was a loop, and a hasp, and what looked like a tiny padlock shut it. Then a small key was hung on a board that was festooned with other keys.

The moment she was released, she worked her fingers under the metal and jerked hard. There was no give. One of the men pulled her hands away, and she shoved at him. \\\\\"Don\'t do that, slave. If you mark yourself, Tinactus is just as likely to take it out on us. She\'s ready for the front room.\"\\\\

The metal smith shook his head. \\\\\"Can\'t understand Tinactus not wanting her branded. She\'s got lovely skin. It would take a brand so well.\"\\\\

Mozelle had given up trying to get away. She was just too tired, and there didn\'t seem to be much chance. Better to conserve her strength and look for an opportunity *Though what I think I\'d do if I got loose...* She was miserable. Not only a foreign land, a foreign time. A totally different mindset than what she\'d grown up with.

She was taken into a long, airy room. \\\\\"He doesn\'t want her wandering loose. Too much of a chance she\'ll try to bolt when the door opens. He said to put her over with the reserves.\"\\\\

They went to a back portion of the room, moving through a thin crowd of people. They were all wearing collars, also, though some of them were leather instead of metal. Even the children. That made her wince. There weren\'t many children, but there were a few. All but the tiniest had their own collars, and seemed perfectly at home in them.

In one corner, there were several strong rings bolted to the wall. Other people *slaves* were chained to the rings by their collar. She started to dig her feet in stubbornly when they urged her toward that area. This must have angered them. When they chained her to the wall, one of them shortened the chain. He left only a couple of feet of slack, so that she couldn\'t sit. She flipped him the bird in thanks. Apparently that was a recognizeable ol, ol, because the huge, dark skinned man chained next to her laughed. One of her captors raised a hand, as if to strike her, and she spat defiance at him, leaning out as far as the chain would allow, fingers hooked into claws. She had no illusions about safety, knew that they could easily beat her to death, but the rage and fear were too strong to be denied.

He didn\'t hit her. The other man stopped him. \\\\\"Do you want the lash so badly? Wait. He may give her to us for awhile if he grows bored with her resistance.\"\\\\

They left. She slumped back against the wall, and surveyed her surroundings. *I guess they sold me to some sort of slaver. This isn\'t a private household. There are too many slaves just standing around. And that\'s some sort of block over there. Shit, I hope I don\'t get put up on that thing. I may end up making them kill me.*

Some of the other slaves were interested in the new arrival, some weren\'t. The one\'s who were drifted over and observed her for a little while, talking amongst themselves--discussing her.

\\\\\"Must be a difficult one--short chain. Still, not as short as it could have been.\"\\\\

\\\\\"She\'s going to lose some skin soon. Didya see the salute she gave Gravis?\"\\\\ Laughter. \\\\\"She\'s either suicidal, or ignorant.\"\\\\

A thin child, no more than twelve, and completely unidentifiable as to gender, came close. Mozelle stared back, but for the life of her, she couldn\'t tell if it was a boy or a girl. Everyone wore tunics. If there was some subtle styling difference, she missed it. The thick, light hair was shaggy, falling into brown eyes. The face was elfin and pointed. Curious, even friendly.

The child spoke. \\\\\"Are you thirsty?\"\\\\

\"Kiddo, I don\'t know what you\'re saying, but you sound friendly.\"

\\\\\"Thirsty?\"\\\\ The child made a motion of tilting something to his lips, then made a gulping sound.

\"Water? Sure, I could use some, if you\'re offering.\"

When he looked puzzled, she nodded, and tried to repeat what he\'d said. A brilliant smile flashed across the pale features, and they hurried away. In a moment, they came back balanceing a wooden cup of water, and handed it to her.

She drank gratefully, handing back the cup. \"Thank you.\" Again the cocked head. \"Oh, uh...\" She clasped her hands, and bowed her head over them, then peeked up.

The child grinned again, then tapped it\'s chest. \"Antonius.\" Then he tapped her arm questioningly.

She pointed. \"Antonius?\" So it was a boy. He nodded. She touched her own chest. \"Mozelle.\"

\"Moh-zalll.\"

\"Well, now. Communication.\"

Antonius put his hands to his own thick, straight blonde hair, lifting a handful. Then he pointed at her head, and made small grasping motions with his fingers, looking into her eyes. She frowned. \"You want to feel my hair? Why?\"

Antonius shook his own limp locks. He pointed at several other people, repeating the gesture. Mozelle looked where he\'d pointed, and gradually realized that she was the only curly headed person in the room. There were a few deeply black negros who had afros, but no one with curls. \"Oh. Well, since you asked nicely.\" She bent her head as far as she could, and the boy stood on tiptoe. He patted both hands gently against the soft, springy curls, and giggled out loud.

The doors to the outside opened. Immediately the center of the room cleared as all the slaves lined up along the wall. The grey haired man entered the room with several others. There was a tall, thin man with small, darting eyes. Mozelle decided on the spot that he was a no-good individual. There was also a very dignified looking woman with greying hair. A tall, aesthetic looking man, also greying, hovered behind her. Mozelle saw that he was wearing a bronze collar, loose enough so that it wouldn\'t be uncomfortable. The way he attended to the woman, it was obvious that he was her slave.

Tinactus waived his hand. \\\\\"Browse if you wish Kadamil. Let me know if you find anything you like.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Can I sample?\"\\\\ His eyes were darting hungrily

Tinactus sighed indulgently. \\\\\"A little. I\'d rather you didn\'t completely debauch one of them on the sales floor. It makes them restless. Now, Lady Dramilla, what are you looking for today? Still shopping for young Lupus\' manhood present?\"\\\\

\\\\\"Though I don\'t know what good it will do. I really can\'t choose for him. I don\'t know if he wants a domestic, a bed slave, or a body slave, or a combination. Or what sex. I know the merchandise changes daily, but this is giving me a feel for the possibilities. In the mean time, our nursery maid passed away. I need an assistant for Tessa.\"\\\\

\\\\\"I expect I\'ll be able to help you.\"\\\\

\\\\\"It\'s just so hard to tell by looking at them. I want one who genuinely loves children. One that will care for little Patenic as her own.\"\\\\

There was a sudden commotion at the other end of the room. There was a howl of pain, followed by the rising babble of surprised and alarmed voices. \\\\\"What in Pluto\'s name now?\"\\\\ snapped Tinactus. He hurried to the area. Lady Dramilla, curious, followed.

There was a high pitched mewling sound, rich baritone laughter, the crying of a child, and a female voice raised in violent tones. The scene, to say the least, was interesting. Kadamil was on the floor, curled into a ball, hands clutched up under his toga. His face was pale, he\'d vomitted. A huge man, a fighter by the scars on his naked torso, was near doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face.

\\\\\"What have you done?\"\\\\ roared Tinactus, snapping a short handled, many tailed lash against his massive chest. The laughter died, but not the mad grin.

\\\\\"Tweren\'t me, master. Twere that soft little dumpling chained there.\"\\\\

All eyes turned to the woman chained to the wall. She had a small boy, in a ripped tunic, crammed between her body and the wall, sheilding him. The child was holding on to her waist, brown eyes huge with fear, except when he looked up at his protectress. Then they shone softly.

The woman had jerked so hard on the chain that there was an angry red mark on her neck, and she was still kicking at the man huddled on the floor, trying to drive a foot against any vulnerable part of his anatomy she could find. \"Damn chicken hawk! Baby raper! You keep your slimy paws off this kid, or I\'ll rip your dangles off!\"

The woman\'s slave blinked. \\\\\"Oh, my. She is angry.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Rentic, do you understand her?\"\\\\

\\\\\"Yes, my lady. At least most of it. That\'s a rather odd form of my own native language. I taught it to Master Lupus, if you recall.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Oh, yes. The Britanic.\"\\\\

\\\\\"What\'s she saying?\"\\\\asked the fighter curiously.

\\\\\"She\'s calling him very bad names. She\'s threatening to end his lancing days, if you understand. She\'s questioned his relations with his recent maternal ancestors. And she suggested he perform a carnal act of self gratification I believe to be impossible.\"\\\\

\\\\\"All this because Kadamil tried to help himself to a little of the boy?\"\\\\ A nod. Tinactus sighed. \\\\\"I told him that it got the slaves
agitated.\"\\\\

\\\\\"It\'s perfectly understandable, if the man tried to force himself on the woman\'s child right before her eyes,\"\\\\ said Lady Dramilla.

\\\\\"But this isn\'t her child,\"\\\\ said Tinactus, bewildered. \\\\\"I just
acquired her an hour or two ago. The boy has no mother, he was raised in a slave creche, cared for by many. Well,\"\\\\ He limbered up his whip. \\\\\"I\'ll have to beat them both. The boy has to learn not to resist, and I can\'t have a slave hitting citizens, for whatever reason.\"\\\\ Tinactus pointed. \\\\\"You, boy. Come take your punishment.\"\\\\

Trembling, the boy started to slip out. The woman put her arms back, caging him against the wall. Tinactus hesitated. \\\\\"Rentic, can you communicate with her?\"\\\\

\\\\\"I think so, Master Tinactus.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Tell her to push the boy out for his beating.\"\\\\

Rentic cleahis his throat. \"He say, give boy.\"

Her eyes widened. \"You speak English! What\'s going on here? That guy tried to molest this kid.\"

Rentic shrugged. \"Boy is slave. Put boy out.\"

\"That\'s no reason. Why put him out?\"

\"Master Tinactus punish him. Punish you.\"

\"No. All the kid did was get scared.\"

\\\\\"Master Tinactus, she refuses. She says the boy did nothing wrong.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Oh? This is interesting. It seems she has a nurturing instinct. All right. Tell her I won\'t beat the boy, if she takes both of their beatings.\"\\\\

Rentic frowned. One beating for an offense of this sort was bad enough. \"He say you want take boy\'s place? Woman, say no. Boy is strong. Beatings hard.\"

\"He won\'t hurt him? He won\'t grab him if I let him go?\"

\"Master Tinactus keep word, even to slave.\"

\"All right.\" She moved the boy out from behind her.

\"Antonius, go.\" She gave him a little push, then turned and faced the wall, face turned to rest her cheek against the wall, hands and forearms braced.

\\\\\"Hm. I\'m a little surprised, but not much, I think. I don\'t think she\'s ever been beaten. I\'d hoped to keep from doing this for awhile, tease things out. The fresh ones can be quite a lot of fun. Ah, well. Ten strokes for each, I think. Let her know, would you, Rentic. And tell her that any time she\'s had enough...\"\\\\ He cocked his head, thinking. \\\\\"Tell her that any time she\'s had enough, she can say so, and I\'ll give the rest to the boy. Or, if she promises to come to my bed tonight like a proper humble slave, I\'ll do away with the beatings altogether.\"\\\\ Rentic translated. The woman\'s
smooth face twisted, and she gritted something out. \\\\\"That didn\'t sound like a favorable reply. What did she say, Rentic?\"\\\\

\\\\\"Master, the language...\"\\\\ He hesitated.

\\\\ \"I see.\"\\\\

\\\\\"It could be roughly translated as \'get it over with.\'\"\\\\

\\\\\"As you wish, my stubborn pretty, but I\'ll have you when I\'m through, anyway. A good beating always warms my blood.\"\\\\

He drew back, and let fly with a medium strength stroke, waiting for the noise she\'d make. He was interested in whether or not she\'d scream right away. The only response was an intake of breath, and a brief flexing of her fingers against the wall. \\\\\"Ah. I believe she\'s going to try not to cry out. I wonder how long she\'ll last?\"\\\\ He struck again, a little further down her back. He was a seasoned slaver, and never concentrated his lashings in one place. It was too easy to damage property when you did that. Besides, sometimes they got a bit numb, and you didn\'t get the full effect.

The second blow still didn\'t draw more than a gasp. The boy she\'d been protecting started to whimper, and one of the women pulled him away. She flinched at the third and fourth blows, the air whuffing out instead of being drawn in. On the fifth, Tinactus gave the lash a really sharp crack, and was rewarded with her first sound, a breathy moan. \\\\\"That\'s better, pretty. We\'ll have you singing yet.\"\\\\

He put more weight behind the swings now, and each one brought a grunt. On the tenth she finally cried out sharply, fingers scrabbling at the smooth wall,and he laughed. Kadamil had managed to roll up into a sitting position now, still curved over his groin. But he said viciously. \\\\\"That\'s it, Tinactus. Take the skin off the bitch.\"\\\\

\\\\\"Quiet. It\'s your own fault, you know. I told you not to go too far, and you should have had enough sense to stay out of her reach. This is more for form\'s sake than anything else. Though,\"\\\\ he chuckled. \\\\\"I am enjoying it.\"\\\\

Dramilla watched the flogging, stony faced, her mind speeding. She\'d never seen anything like the woman\'s actions. Such ferocious protectiveness, and toward a child that wasn\'t even her own, one she\'d known only minutes. The question was, would she be willing to go all the way to protect him?

She spared Kadamil a glance of disgust. The man was the worst type of degenerate. After what the woman had done to him, he must still be in pain. But he was watching the punishment avidly, drinking in every jolt and moan the woman gave. His hands were up under his toga, moving quickly, and the cloth was tented, a small patch of dampness marking where his cock head was leaking.

At the thirteenth strike, the woman\'s knees gave out, and she dropped. The chain only let her fall so far, then she was hanging, the collar so tight with her weight that it pressed into the tender flesh. She started wheezing, and the fighter reached over and gently lifted her to her feet before she could strangle. He took her hands and wrapped them around the chain, pressing them tight. \\\\\"Hold on, little sister. Hold on tight.\"\\\\ He pressed her hands tight again, and she nodded in understanding. Her eyes were glazed with pain, and the deepest confusion he\'d ever seen.

\\\\\"Very sweet.\"\\\\ purred Tinactus. \\\\\"Perhaps after I\'ve had her, you can give me a show.\"\\\\ He delivered two more strikes in rapid succession. Again her knees buckled, but she managed to hold on to the chain, dangling till she could get her feet under her again.

Tinactus had forgotten about his customers, and the slaves watching in silence. His entire being was focused on the slave. Her face was pressed to the wall, turned to the side. He could see the silver streak of tears on her smooth cheek, but she wasn\'t sobbing out loud. Her breath was loud, and ragged. He\'d seen what Kadamil was up to, now he felt his own erection. It rose stiff and insistant against his belly.

Five more strokes to go. He needed to hear her scream before he was through. Two more strokes, with all his strength behind them. Her cries rose, but still it wasn\'t quite what he needed. The wailing wasn\'t enough. Three more left. He wouldn\'t go beyond the promised punishment, though it was tempting. He\'d just have to remove his customers quickly. Then he\'d pull down those ridiculous trousers and take her from behind, against the wall. Yes. The eighteenth blow whistled, cracking. In her ass, yes, that would make her sing. No lubrication but his sweat and her own blood.

He put all his strength into the last two blows, wondering if she might faint. Many did, with such a beating, men and women. At last, he handed the flail to one of the slaves. He stepped close to the woman, and laid his hand against her back. She cringed at the touch, moaning deep in her throat. \\\\\"Tender, precious? Perhaps that taught you to be a good girl, then. We\'ll see in a moment.\"\\\\ Still caressing her back firmly, relishing the whines of discomfort, he said \\\\\"Kadamil, Lady Dramilla, I\'ll have to ask you to excuse me now. The discipline isn\'t quite finished.\"\\\\

Lady Dramilla nodded firmly. \\\\\"Tinactus, I want to purchase this slave.\"\\\\