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Messaline, the slavegirl

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The Last Slave

The slaves had been hanging for nearly half an hour, their struggles had become less violent and now the regular drag to the top of the cross had started. Messaline sagged low on her cross, legs splayed wide open and the matted hair glistened with the cum that slowly dripped out of her twitching hole. Her face was beginning to redden, she needed to breath. She gritted her teeth and, in an enormous effort, she pushed down on her ruined heel. Lightning strikes of pain shot up both her legs as the raw edge of the spikes touched the nerves. Her hands clenched in tight fists as the iron rubbed against the burning nerves in her tiny wrists.

"Ggggrrrrrr!" she grunted as she experienced pain in all parts of her body.

The guards watched every inch of her as she pushed and pulled her way to the top of the cross. She locked her legs at her knees, her toes were spread and she began to tremble as she gulped in the life supporting air. Just then two of the guards held her legs and prevented her from dropping back down. They slightly parted her quivering legs and then, to her dismay, she felt the cold sharp point of a wooden cornu. It had two horns, she knew what areas of her body they were for. Oh God she thought, they are going to prolong my life and at this point Messaline struggled against the invasion. It was no use, the guards were persistent and soon the cornu was in position and nailed to the upright.

"Let me make it easier, my dear," spoke one of the guards as he coated both horns with tallow. The two guards holding her legs released their grip and stepped back to watch the young slave. They wanted to see how long she could stand the pain in her wrists and feet before lowering herself down on the horns. Messaline lasted for sometime, even though the pain, in her shattered heels and wrists, must have been almost unbearable.

Finally her strength failed her and she slowly slipped down the stipe onto the protruding horns. She felt both tips press against her cunt and arse but could not prevent the impalement.

"Aaaaargh!" she screamed, "Nooooooo!" she bellowed.

The watching crowd laughed and cheered at her predicament and watched, with eager eye, to see if she would take the full length, of the cornu, into her cunt.

"Ooooooh!" groaned Messaline.

"Look, it looks as though she is enjoying her last fuck, shame it is to be nailed on a cross."

The listening crowds laughed and there was much clapping and merriment. Messaline rose up off the cornu and there was a slurping sound as it nearly popped out, but the guards had fixed it well, there would be no release from this hell. No sooner had she risen up she had to sink back down. Now there was a third pain to deal with but at least she could relieve the pain in her hands and feet.

Soon there was more cheering, the last slave, Melissa, was being brought to the hill. She too was a petite girl of only nineteen years. She had short blonde hair, the cutest breasts, a neatly shaved pubic area and the softest skin. She was the masters second favourite and it was easy to see why. Now her body bore the marks and scars of thr Roman lash and hot irons. She had fallen, under the weight of her beam, and had been released from it. She now dragged it up the hill and it left a groove in the dusty ground. At last she reached the last of the uprights and she dropped the wood heavily. She opened her eyes and too in the gruesome sight of the hanging slaves. She clasped her head in her hands and sobbed uncontrolably before receiving a sharp kick in the ribcage. She rolled over, onto her back, and gasped as the air was knocked from her.

"Make an example of her!" yelled an onlooker.

"Yeah, give us a good view of her soft cunt!" screamed another.

The guards looked at one another and thought long and hard. Soon the decision was made and the last slave was grabbed by the feet and spun around in the dirt. Grit and stones ground into her newly lacerated back, now her feet were facing the stipes. She felt hands grab her ankles and spread her legs wide on the beam. Strong hands pressed down firmly on her feet and soon the sharp pain, of a spike passing into her feet, was felt coarsing up her legs. Melissa thrashed around as the agony reached intense levels and she blacked out. The guards dragged her body up the stipes, with her hands just off the ground. The blood from the spikes ran down her legs, down passed her hips and dripped off her pert little breasts. The guards forced her arms around the stipes and nailed her hands together at the back.

A bucket of stale water was thrown over her face and she spluttered back into conciousness.

"Nooooooooo!" she screamed as she reallised how she was exposed. The crowd was going mad and pushed ever closer to get a good close look of the crucified slave.
One man shoved his fingers into the slaves spread pussy and received a slap from the but of a sword.

"No touching the slaves," he paused, "maybe later," teased a guard.

Melissa carried on screaming for some time, her face getting much redder as the blood ran down.

To be continued.................................................
 
All the slaves hung in absolute misery, the hot sun beating down on their pain wracked bodies. The blood, surrounding the nail wounds had dried, but, with the continuous climb to the top to breathe, small rivulets still ran down the twitching limbs. Messaline shifted herself on the cornu, that was penetrating her two oriface, the squelching noise amused the crowds and the guards. The guards had fixed the cornu just right, just high enough to prevent her from escaping the torture.

The guard walked up to Messaline, with his arms on his hips, he smiled and licked his lips.

"I want you to suffer Messaline before you die, bring me the rippers!"

A guard paced up and placed the ripping tool in his hand. This was an evil implement and designed to score deep wounds in the flesh. Messaline's eyes were wide open in horror as the torture tool was waved in front of her face.

"Now where shall we start? let's start at the bottom and work our way up, don't want you to pass out too quick."

The guard placed the prongs on the top of her foot and pushed hard. The prongs were very sharp and dug into the tender flesh with ease, Messaline screamed. Slowly the guard dragged the implement up the front of her leg, up the shin and passed her knee. Blood ran down her leg and off her splayed toes and onto the dusty ground. She bit her lip and could taste the new blood in her mouth as it dripped off her chin. The guard moved to the other foot and dragged the spikes up to her thighs. More blood and more agonnising screams and writhing from Messaline made the crowd cheer even louder.

"Make the cunt suffer!" yelled an onlooker.

The guard moved the tool to her rapidly rising stomach and cut across her quivering belly, more screams of anguish were borne. The guard was pleased at the response he received from the victim, but no surprises. The implement then made its way straight up to just under her breasts. He circled each one and then stroked it gently over her sensitive nipples.

"No," he said, "I don't think I will damage these beauties."

Messaline sighed with relief but was still taking her weight on her broken heels, the pain was unbelievable.

The guard turned and went over to each slave and checked on their condition. Each slave was wrapped up in their own pain but all had calmed down from the initial thrashing around. Melissa was hanging quietly now, her face was very red from being hung upside down. The guard checked her condition, her toes were clenched and the blood had dried and blackened around the large protruding spikes. He inspected her wide open cunt and opened up the lips to see how they glistened.

"Bring me water," he commanded, and a guard brought a large container of water. He told the guard to open her fully so that he could pour the water in. He stroked the opening and rubbed until it was clean again. Then he lowered his mouth and used his tongue like a sensitive lover would do.

"Ooooooh," she groaned, as the guard ran his tongue around the tender folds of skin.

"Stop, pleeese stop," she cried, but it fell on deaf ears as the onslaught continued. The guard kept a watchful eye on her tiny feet and saw how the toes flexed open and shut as the orgasm approached. Suddenly her whole body shook as a huge orgasm hit her body. The vigarous shaking made the wounds in the feet open and fresh blood rand down and pooled on the ground.

"Nice," said the guards as they congratulated their comrade on an expert performance.

"Time to warm you up a bit Messaline," as the guard kicked the dry bracken closer to her feet.

"It won't be quick, trust me," he sneered.

Soon, the guard brought a flaming torch to the foot of the cross. He waved it in her face and slowly dropped it down her body, pausing slightly at her small tuft of pubic hair causing it to singe. Finally he dropped it into the dry wood which instantly crackled and burst into life. There was insufficient wood to burn her to death but more than enough to seriously char her feet and lower legs. Soon, small flickers of flame lapped at her immobile feet and stung the soles, heels and ankles.

"EeeeeArrrrgh!" she cried, but was unable to escape the ever increasing heat of the flames. The crowds watched as the soles began to blister and blacken in the smoke. The flames gently rose up her shaking legs and started to eat at her cunt but they rose no higher.

"That's enough!" roared the guard, and the bracken was kicked away from the struggling Messaline, who was now sobbing in anguish, what more was she to endure?

To be continued........................................................
 
All the slaves hung in absolute misery, the hot sun beating down on their pain wracked bodies. The blood, surrounding the nail wounds had dried, but, with the continuous climb to the top to breathe, small rivulets still ran down the twitching limbs. Messaline shifted herself on the cornu, that was penetrating her two oriface, the squelching noise amused the crowds and the guards. The guards had fixed the cornu just right, just high enough to prevent her from escaping the torture.

The guard walked up to Messaline, with his arms on his hips, he smiled and licked his lips.

"I want you to suffer Messaline before you die, bring me the rippers!"

A guard paced up and placed the ripping tool in his hand. This was an evil implement and designed to score deep wounds in the flesh. Messaline's eyes were wide open in horror as the torture tool was waved in front of her face.

"Now where shall we start? let's start at the bottom and work our way up, don't want you to pass out too quick."

The guard placed the prongs on the top of her foot and pushed hard. The prongs were very sharp and dug into the tender flesh with ease, Messaline screamed. Slowly the guard dragged the implement up the front of her leg, up the shin and passed her knee. Blood ran down her leg and off her splayed toes and onto the dusty ground. She bit her lip and could taste the new blood in her mouth as it dripped off her chin. The guard moved to the other foot and dragged the spikes up to her thighs. More blood and more agonnising screams and writhing from Messaline made the crowd cheer even louder.

"Make the cunt suffer!" yelled an onlooker.

The guard moved the tool to her rapidly rising stomach and cut across her quivering belly, more screams of anguish were borne. The guard was pleased at the response he received from the victim, but no surprises. The implement then made its way straight up to just under her breasts. He circled each one and then stroked it gently over her sensitive nipples.

"No," he said, "I don't think I will damage these beauties."

Messaline sighed with relief but was still taking her weight on her broken heels, the pain was unbelievable.

The guard turned and went over to each slave and checked on their condition. Each slave was wrapped up in their own pain but all had calmed down from the initial thrashing around. Melissa was hanging quietly now, her face was very red from being hung upside down. The guard checked her condition, her toes were clenched and the blood had dried and blackened around the large protruding spikes. He inspected her wide open cunt and opened up the lips to see how they glistened.

"Bring me water," he commanded, and a guard brought a large container of water. He told the guard to open her fully so that he could pour the water in. He stroked the opening and rubbed until it was clean again. Then he lowered his mouth and used his tongue like a sensitive lover would do.

"Ooooooh," she groaned, as the guard ran his tongue around the tender folds of skin.

"Stop, pleeese stop," she cried, but it fell on deaf ears as the onslaught continued. The guard kept a watchful eye on her tiny feet and saw how the toes flexed open and shut as the orgasm approached. Suddenly her whole body shook as a huge orgasm hit her body. The vigarous shaking made the wounds in the feet open and fresh blood rand down and pooled on the ground.

"Nice," said the guards as they congratulated their comrade on an expert performance.

"Time to warm you up a bit Messaline," as the guard kicked the dry bracken closer to her feet.

"It won't be quick, trust me," he sneered.

Soon, the guard brought a flaming torch to the foot of the cross. He waved it in her face and slowly dropped it down her body, pausing slightly at her small tuft of pubic hair causing it to singe. Finally he dropped it into the dry wood which instantly crackled and burst into life. There was insufficient wood to burn her to death but more than enough to seriously char her feet and lower legs. Soon, small flickers of flame lapped at her immobile feet and stung the soles, heels and ankles.

"EeeeeArrrrgh!" she cried, but was unable to escape the ever increasing heat of the flames. The crowds watched as the soles began to blister and blacken in the smoke. The flames gently rose up her shaking legs and started to eat at her cunt but they rose no higher.

"That's enough!" roared the guard, and the bracken was kicked away from the struggling Messaline, who was now sobbing in anguish, what more was she to endure?

To be continued........................................................
Great staging, perfect realization and Messaline at the top of her art, at the height of her suffering!
 
A guard paced up and placed the ripping tool in his hand. This was an evil implement and designed to score deep wounds in the flesh. Messaline's eyes were wide open in horror as the torture tool was waved in front of her face.
1 Messaline , the slave.jpg

Soon, the guard brought a flaming torch to the foot of the cross. He waved it in her face and slowly dropped it down her body, pausing slightly at her small tuft of pubic hair causing it to singe. Finally he dropped it into the dry wood which instantly crackled and burst into life.

2 Messaline , the slave .jpg

:eek::eek::eek:
 
The final remennants of the smoke had drifted away in the light breeze that was now soothing the red raw bodies of the crucified slaves. Martha, hung limply to the right of Messaline, and was slowly rising on her nailed feet to take in her gulp of air. As she balanced, on the small bones in her feet, she locked eyes on Messaline and grunted.

"I hope your fucking pain lasts much longer than mine," she sneered, and then slumped back down stretching her arms on the spikes protruding from her swollen wrists.

Messaline had fainted but was supported by the cornu embedded in her cunt and arse and had not heard the comments from the suffering slave. One of the guards paced up to the slightly charred body and ran his finger nails into the soft calf and down to the blackened feet. Messaline's eyes flickered to life as she shrieked at the shocking pain in her legs and feet.

"Those feet don't look in good shape now, do they?" laughed a guard, "time to rearrange them I think."

The guard began to prise out the stubborn spike from her right foot. Back and forth, back and forth, he wriggled the spike to loosen it from the timber. Messaline was screaming her lungs off as the sharp edge of the spike rubbed against the nerves and bones of her foot. Then the spike pulled free and her foot dangled down with blood dripping off her toes. The guard moved to the other foot and repeated the same procedure with the same excruciating response. Soon Messaline just hung by her wrists and the cornu support.

"Right, let's re-nail these feet but in a different position," roared the guard.

Two guards held her feet, crossed behind the upright. They pushed them together and a much longer spike was driven thru the blistered soles and into the stipe. Messaline's body convulsed with every strike of the hammer. Her breasts rose and fell and the muscles in her lean stomach contracted. Her voice was rasping and was almost gone but death was a long way off and the guards would see to that.

The other slaves were being whipped all over, cheered on by the voracious crowd, it was a relentless onslaught but then again the guards enjoyed their work.

To be continued...........................................................
 
soon the small body of Martha glistened in the hot sun, small rivulets of blood dripping from her arms and twitching toes.
There was hours of pain to endure before death comes.

Very evocative, Martha's small female figure glistening in the sun. Yes, size is no matter to the cross, the large and the small suffer in their own ways. Martha will not weigh much, but will she have the strength to endure?

The guard took his fingers and slowly parted her vaginal lips. The cherry red lips glistened in the sun and, after some frantic rubbing, her juices started to flow.
. . . . Messaline was standing on her broken heels and quietly sobbing but soon she had to lower her self and hang from her wrists.

Brutal. Messa has no option but to submit to this gross indignity, and suffer this assault on top of the pain she is enduring. There is little chance she would take any pleasure from such a thing, spread and penetrated so casually in public, her limbs wracked with cramp and bleeding from the nails.

The guard began to prise out the stubborn spike from her right foot. Back and forth, back and forth, he wriggled the spike to loosen it from the timber. Messaline was screaming her lungs off as the sharp edge of the spike rubbed against the nerves and bones of her foot. Then the spike pulled free and her foot dangled down with blood dripping off her toes. The guard moved to the other foot and repeated the same procedure with the same excruciating response. Soon Messaline just hung by her wrists and the cornu support.

"Right, let's re-nail these feet but in a different position," roared the guard.

Two guards held her feet, crossed behind the upright. They pushed them together and a much longer spike was driven thru the blistered soles and into the stipe. Messaline's body convulsed with every strike of the hammer. Her breasts rose and fell and the muscles in her lean stomach contracted. Her voice was rasping and was almost gone but death was a long way off and the guards would see to that.

This is new. I've only read one other story where the nails had to be repositioned. Imagine the unbearable agony of the nails being prised out, not for the sake of blessed relief, but simply to be placed in a new position. Unspeakable.
 
Messaline sagged on the spikes impaling her wrists to the beam, pushing up with her feet was now almost impossible. The cornu was the only blessed relief from the pressure of the spikes on her limbs. There was pain, in her newly nailed feet, but not as much as when she had firstly been nailed to the cross. Because her body was held upright on the cornu breathing was much easier. Her long hair hung down and swept over her lean breasts gently teasing the hardened nipples. From time to time she would feel the intrusive fingers of a passerby probing her gentle cunt. She would whimper gently to herself, she didn't want to show them that she was beginning to orgasm. However, soon, waves of intense pleasure surged thru her body, blotting out the pain she was having to endure.

The other slaves were also being prodded and poked to get them squirming on their crosses. Martha spat at anyone who even looked at her tortured body.

"Now you behave!" growled a guard sternly, "if they want to touch you then fucking well let them," there was menace in his voice. As one person approached, touched and fondled the victims, another was awaiting their turn, they kept coming.

"Please leave us," pleaded one slave.

"Yes, just let us die," another replied.

"No way, no fucking way, you will live for at least two days, you can be sure of that."

The loud sobbing's from the women grew louder, as they knew that their agonies, and there were many, would continue well into the next day.
The guard looked toward Messaline and watched many an onlooker touch and squeezed her pretty breasts, pinching the puffy nipples and sometimes biting them. One man walked behind her cross to get sight of her plump bottom as she rose and sunk on the cornu. He gazed at her ruined feet and the shaft of the large spike fixing them to the wood. Her toes splayed out as she pulled up on her wrists to avoid the awful cramps setting in. Fresh crimson blood pooled around the head of the cruel spike and dripped from the twitching toes. The man grabbed a butt cheek in each hand and squeezed until a small squeal emmited from Messaline's parched lips.

"Water, water," she croaked, "please give me water."

One of the guards dipped the remains of a soiled loin cloth in some stale water and walked up to Messaline.

"You want some water, do you cunt? well suck on this you bitch."

He pushed the smelly rag into her mouth and the foul liquid dribbled down her cheeks and chin. Messaline almost gagged on the stagnant liquid but swallowed as much as she could to stem the fire in her throat.

"Nice eh," gloated the guard, "plenty more where that came from," and with that he took out his huge penis and emptied his bowels onto the cloth ready for her next drink.

The hours drew on and the burning sun scorched their pale skins and inflamed the wounds around the spikes. As the sun began to set the shadows of the crucified got longer and a gentle breeze got up to soothe the naked, hanging bodies.
Meanwhile the guards were preparing wood for the fires thru the night, the nights could get chilly. There would be no such heat for the crucified slaves, they would have to endure the cold night, naked as the day they were born. The sun disappeared behind the dark brooding hills and the chill of the approaching night hit the naked bodies that writhed on the crosses. The guards lit their fires and sat around them joking and laughing and drinking wine, their laughter drowned out the groans of the crucified. There was a full moon, that night, and it glistened of the skin of the twisting crucified slaves. The guards would rest but the crucified continued to rise and fall on the crucifixion nails. The night would be long but in the morning more tortures they would have to bare.

To be continued.........................................................
 
Brutal. Messa has no option but to submit to this gross indignity, and suffer this assault on top of the pain she is enduring. There is little chance she would take any pleasure from such a thing, spread and penetrated so casually in public, her limbs wracked with cramp and bleeding from the nails.

Yes, brutal but I wanted to live all my worst fantasies in this story ... :eek::rolleyes:
 
The night was long and quite chilly, not cold enough for them to die of the cold. Lvinius had not faired well thru the night and her breathing was very shallow. The guards did not want her to die just yet, so one of the guards hammered a long spike between her legs to support her weight. They slapped her shapely bare legs until her eyes flickered into life.

"Wake up bitch, it's another fine day of torment for you," and he drove his fist into her rippling stomach. She coughed and spat blood at the guard, from her torn lip she had bitten due to the pain.

Messaline was also stirring and was once more rising off the cornu as far as the spike in her feet would allow. The cramps, she was now feeling in her calves, were getting ever more painful and almost unbearable to take. She dropped back down and, once again, the cornu dug deeper into her cunt and arse. Once more she feebly called for water and was attended to by a guard, she was to live well into another day.

"Pppp, please h, h, have mercy on me. Aaaargh!" and her body shuddered on the cross as waves of pain shot all over her body.

Just then two guards brought forward a brazier which they carried on an iron bar. It was dropped in front of Messaline's cross and she noticed the sparks fly into the air, some of which landed on her bare skin and made her jump. She noticed handles sticking out of the top of the hot coals and reallised that soon they would press hot irons against her tender flesh.

"Chilly night, wasn't it?" laughed a guard as he lifted one of the irons out of the coals and raked it back and forth.

"Need warming up do we?" Messaline shook her head and her eyes bulged as she got her first view of the glowing piece of iron. The guard held the rod up to her face, not too close but just near enough so she could feel the heat. The guard paced behind the cross and out of her view, she craned her neck but could not see him. The guard was looking at the scorched soles of her feet. He placed the tip of the burning rod against the new nail head and held it firm. The heat from the rod slowly transferred thru the shaft of the spike and started to scorch the internal muscles of her feet. Messaline threw her head back and forward, cracking the back of her skull against the wood.

"Secure her head!" commanded the guard, as he removed the burning iron from the nail head.
Two guards grabbed some rope and wrapped it around her forehead and lashed it to the upright behind. The guard then replaced the rod and the burning heat surged thru her feet from the inside out.

"EeeeeeeeArrrrrgh!" she hollered, "Nnnnnoooooo!" but she could not evade the increasing heat and soon she fainted and the iron was removed. With Messaline out of action the guards turned to the remaining slaves and soon all bore the marks of the hot irons all over their bodies.

To be continued....................................................
 
The small crowd that, had watched the tortures, and, had applauded at every scream and whimper of the crucified, were now starting to leave the site. The movements, from the six hanging women, had slowed right down even though the pain had not relented. Messaline was shaking, the early signs that her body was going into shock, it would not be long now. A burly guard stood in front of the naked slave and smiled.

"Told you we would make your suffering long," gloated the soldier, "remove the nail from her feet and take away the cornu," the order was given.

A guard went behind the cross, he poured water over her feet to cool the nail that was embedded thru the soles. There was a small puff of steam and the toes, once again, flexed and twitched in spasm. The head of the nail was gripped firmly with the tongs and wriggled back and forth until it worked its way free of the wood. Pieces of flesh still clung to the iron shafts as it was dropped to the ground. The heat had done its job and cauterised the inside of the foot, there was no flow of blood. Messaline's legs hung down the front of the stipe and swayed gently to and fro. Two guards held her legs and put one hand under her small arse and pushed her up. They struggled to lift her as her bodily fluids had dried and the inner folds of her cunt and arse gripped the sides of the cornu.

"Wait!" yelled the guard in charge, and he stepped forward and used his fingers to spread her lips wide.

"Now lift," he roared, and, with a slurp, Messaline was now freed from the cornu in her oriface. As the guards held her high the cornu was prised from the wood and the limp body of Messaline hung limply only by her nailed wrists.

"One last fuck I think," laughed the guard, "bring me some water so that I can wash the slut's cunt, don't want to much mess on my cock!" The other guards laughed and brought the water over. The guard dipped a cloth into the liquid and raised it up to the dirty cunt. He slopped the water all around the entrance and shoved it deep inside. Messaline groaned as she felt the cool water soothing her insides.

"Bring me a stool," he ordered, and one was placed beneath her cross.

"Right, you and you," and he pointed to two guard, "grab an ankle and spread her legs wide," they did as they were told.

The guard now had a good view of her entrance and he climbed up onto the stool and raised his tunic. His huge engorged penis stood proud and he pressed the tip against her vulva. With a grunt, he pushed hard, and was amazed at how easy he entered her. The guards held her firmly as her long slender legs pulled, in all directions, to try and avoid the intrusion. The guard plunged in and out, deeper and deeper, ingnoring her pleas and gasps. The onslaught lasted only ten minutes but it was brutal to say the least. At last it was all over and the guard stood down and cleaned the end of his cock with the damp rag. His warm semen, mixed with traces of blood, dribbled down the inside of Messalin's legs, which still lightly twitched.

Messaline had nothing to support her now and her breathing was now more laboured as the ever approaching darkness of death approached. When Messaline died, both her body and the others were left to rot, for several days, in the hot sun, until the carrion birds had stripped the flesh from the bones.

Who was the killer of their master, we will never know.

The End
 
A tragic tale of cruelty and injustice.

The Slave Girl Messaline

Messaline was only twenty five when she was sold into slavery after being captured during the Punic War of 218bc. During her early years she had witnessed her family being massacred and many of her childhood friends sold into slavery as well. Her early years just made her a more harder person but this would stand her in good stead for the rest of her life.

So her friends were sold for other reasons - like debt or just bad parents? How much older is Messaline now? And I'm not clear how being hard did her much good... Rather, it might be what stops the other slaves truly trusting her.

"No, no, noooooo!" she screamed, as she looked at her hand and then her silks she was wearing. Her hand was crimson red, red with blood! She spat the blood from her mouth and almost wretched. The bed clothes were drenched in blood as the naked body of Zoninus lay spreadeagled on the bed. There was a large gash that ran from his left ear to just under his throat. Close by was a dagger, also caked in blood, Messaline could only stare at it.

A true mystery - did he have enemies? And it's quite suspicious that a squad of soldiers was so close to hand...

:oops: What will be this "questioning" ? ...

In Rome, evidence from slaves was only accepted when confirmed under torture. But I guess there's no actual trial in this case, so...

Levinus, a small blonde haired slave of no more than nineteen years, save a day. Her straining naked body bore the signs of the torture they had all endured.

Hard to think of a much worse birthday present than crucifixion - although some of this site's members might actually disagree.

Surprising Messaline didn't seem to feel the wrist spikes much, just the feet.
 
So her friends were sold for other reasons - like debt or just bad parents? How much older is Messaline now? And I'm not clear how being hard did her much good... Rather, it might be what stops the other slaves truly trusting her.
You'll soon read another story , following what he wrote before (1), made by Theseus ... He was the first writter to do this kind of tale about Messaline ( called Paskell for him) ...
(1)
 
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