Story: An amazon captured and tortured by the Romans

[batak_b]

I would like to post a story about an amazon warrior captured and tortured by the Romans. It is still under development, and I am quite busy, so I don't know with what frequency I will be able to update the thread.

Part I:

Sylvina slowly regained consciousness. It took some time for her eyes to adjust to the twilight. She was in a little cell, the only dim light coming from a small barred window high above. There was nothing but plane stone walls aside from the straw scattered in the corner she was lying. Her arms and her legs were chained, restraining her movements. Her head was still dizzy and she could feel the pain pulsating above the scruff of the neck, her body was aching.

Lying in confusion and growing discomfort, Sylvina slowly started piecing her memories together. On the second day of the year’s sixth new moon she and her three companions went on a two-week patrol at the outskirts of the Amazons’ territory. For one year, she had lost twelve of her warriors to the Romans, but Roman activity in area was suspiciously low in the past nine months with very few incursions and skirmishes. Two days into their mission, Sylvina was increasingly uneasy, the forests being often silent. The next days they reached the ravine leading to the next valley but sensing that there could be ambush, she decided to lead her warriors along the perilous climb across the northern ridge. Following a secluded path, the four amazons entered the valley but the Romans were waiting for them there, a whole centuria.

That must not have been possible, but Sylvina did not have the time think. Despite the shock, she and her amazons instantaneously attacked the Romans, much to the latter’s surprise. She slit the throat of the centurion before he could raise his gladius. Sylvina and her companions quickly took back-to-back formation and engaged the Roman soldiers, skillfully avoiding and cutting their spears and puncturing many of them with their swords. Yet, despite their bravery, the fight was uneven. Being on a patrol, none of the amazons had a shield, nor metal armour. In a few minutes of furious fighting, many Romans lay dead or wounded on the ground, but so did all three of Sylvina’s companions. She was alone, rotating swiftly and wielding her sword. One soldier tried to hit her from behind, but she was constantly in motion and killed him. The Romans could have killed her from a distance with spears, as they did with the other three women, but they did not attempt it. Realising that the enemy somehow knew she was the commander and were trying to capture her, Sylvina tried to take her knife to commit suicide, but she lost concentration for a moment and that instance allowed the Romans to overpower her. She felt sudden pain at the back of her head and then lost consciousness.

She heard steps echoing from the outside that stopped behind the cell’s door. It took a few moments for the door to be unlocked and then three men entered the cell. Two of them were holding torches that made Sylvina close her eyes for some moments, as they were blinded by the bright light. In that time, the third man unlocked the chains that held her to the walls, but both her arms and her legs remained chained to one another, preventing any possibility to run. The men led her outside through many corridors and stairs until she was pushed in a spacious dungeon with numerous chains hanging from the ceiling and along the walls. There were bowls with glowing embers, with iron rods stuck within, racks with bloodstains, pliers and thong, as well as numerous whips decorating the walls. There were several men in torturer’s attires and five soldiers. A single man was sitting on a chair placed in front one of the walls, sipping wine from a glass. A fully naked blond slave girl has serving him on her knees, her head bowed down, and her back crisscrossed with whip marks, some old, some fresh.

“So, this must be the famous Sylvina. Let me see, green eyes, unlined slightly elongated face, olive skin, mild lips, neither luscious, nor thin. Black hair with a white lock of hair from the left part of the forehead. I am correct?” the man said, as he put his glass of wine on the tray the slave girl was holding. He was over his fifties, with square shaved face and unpleasant grin. His hands were still muclar.

Sylvina did not respond. “It is very impolite not introduce yourself. Here, my name is Gnaeus Suellius Bassus, commander of the Castrum Rufus garrison and chief of all Cappadocia border troops.”

“Still no response, eh? Isn’t that the lady in question, you cunt?” Rufus turned to the girl next to him. “Yes, she is, master.” the blond immediately answered obediently.

“Fenia?” Sylvina uttered.

“I am sorry, I am so sorry…”

“Shut up, you cunt” Bassus shouted towards the blond girl and slapped her over the face with full force, making her fall to the ground and drop the tray along with the glass of wine. Bassus took her by the hair and yelled “You clumsy fool! You spilled my wine! Twenty lashes, now!” Two men headed towards the unfortunate girl.

“Master, please, have m…” Fenia was slapped again. “For every ‘please’ you say, you’ll get ten more lashes, so you’d better shut up.”

Fenia was dragged and chained between two wood columns in the furthest part of the dungeon. One of the torturers grabbed a long single-tail whip and viciously flogged the screaming girl, as the other one counted the strokes.

 

[Beate]

Sylvina appears strong and powerful, she was not the leader for nothing and the story after more.

 

[geolier]

A single man was sitting on a chair placed in front one of the walls, sipping wine from a glass.

That should be a woman, perhaps the commander's wife, seizing the opportunity to have an amazon tortured.

 

[batak_b]

Part II

As the whip’s impact on Fenia’s slender back echoed around the dungeon along with her screams of anguish, Bassus rose from the chair and closed on Sylvina.

“You see, that clumsy cunt gave me a very accurate description of yourself, and also of those secret paths you use to patrol. I must admit, though, that it took some time to convince her to speak, or more precisely – almost two weeks. Unfortunately, while she was well acquainted with your patrol area, so really didn’t have information about the mountain passes, the location of the forts there, and the number of the troops. She told me, though, that you have that information, so if you speak now, you’ll spare both of us a lot of trouble. Speak now, and I will grant you Roman citizenship and a place to live in Hispania.”

Sylvina remained silent between the two guards. “Good”, Bassus said, “trouble it is then. Undress her and tie her up!” The two guards stripped the rags covering her body, leaving Slvina with a thin loincloth – a piece of rope wrapped loosely along the lowest part of her hips, with two shaggy one foot long white cloths hanging in the front, barely covering her sex, and in the back, hiding almost nothing from the slender and yet shapely buttocks.

The guards then lifted up Sylvina’s chained hands and attached them to another chain hanging from the ceiling. One of the torturers grabbed the chain’s other end and hoisted the amazon about one foot above the ground. Her feet were shackled to the ground, so that she could not kick and could barely move. Even now, Sylvina was feeling the discomfort of her hands holding on to her whole weight. Retrained in that position, Sylvina was a magnificent sight, as Bassus and his men admired her lean muscled hands and legs, her slender body, with evenly toned olive skin, middle-sized perfectly shaped breasts crowned with protruding lightly brown areolas. Her pronounced ribs and her well-shaped and yet feminine muscles along the abdomen contracted lustfully as she was breathing, giving most of the men in the room erection just by the sight of it. Her big green eye stared forward in grim determination.

Sylvina had been trained all her life for such a moment, and she prayed to the Goddess to give her strength to fulfill her duty to the Amazon kingdom. Unlike Fenia, she had been whipped, branded and tortured many times and had proven both her endurance and intelligence in order to be confided with command and information about the three passes that led into the kingdom. While she was being dragged to the dungeon, while the Roman general was speaking and while the broken Fenia was being flogged, Sylvina had decided what to do and now she prayed to endure the torments ahead.

“You may begin, Lucius” Bassus turned to an over two-meter tall, massively built man with wide shoulders and huge muscled hands. Although she was strong and firm, Sylvana herself was of delicate built. Twenty-three years of age, the girl was no more than a meter and seventy centimeters tall and even hoisted above the ground, she was standing lower than her tormentor-to-be. Lucius took a long single-tail whip from a table nearby and uncoiled it slowly in Sylvina’s sight. The terrible instrument was made of intertwined straps of rhino hide and was both coarse and flexible. Without a hurry, the torturer took position behind Sylvina’s naked back and took some time to admire its elongated symmetry divided by the recess of the spine, the magnificent and yet delicate muscles, the gentle protrusion of the buttocks. The woman’s beautiful thick hair ended just short of the shoulders, thus leaving the whole backside entirely exposed for Lucius to paint his fiendish art.

Lucius then rotated the whip above his head, leaned forward, and struck the amazon with full strength. Sylvina could hear the hiss of the whip before the blow hit her muscled shoulders with tremendous force, leaving a bloody mark stranding almost horizontally. The amazon warrior knew that sooner or later the pain will overcome her and she will scream and decided that the later, the better. She tried to count the strokes, so that she could have something to concentrate on. The second one hit the area below the first, leaving another trail of blood. The third stroke landed with incredible strength in diagonal, beginning above the first one, crisscrossing both bloody cuttings and continued further below. The next hit struck the dorsal muscles, followed by another one in the same area that crossed it just left of the spinal cord.

Sylvina felt as if every new impact on her bare back started a never ending fire that slowly engulfed her whole being in flames. As restrained as she was, her flexible spine could still arch forward with every cruel lash, much to the satisfaction of the men in the dungeon, who were looking lustfully at the tortured warrior.

The sixth stroke landed further below, near the thinnest part of her torso, filling her with a new wave of pain. The seventh lash fell hit even lower and then Lucius again aimed at the upper back just under the shoulders, fueling the ails of the first strokes. Number eight that Sylvina counted hit just above the rope that was pulling the meager loincloth together, followed by another diagonal stroke near the middle of the back, and another in the other direction. Sylvina counted three more that cut her gentle skin in the middle of the backside, followed by another three upwards, most of them crisscrossing previous wounds. She clenched her white teeth to remain silent, her beautiful face braced in pain as every vicious stoke hit her defenseless back.

 

[batak_b]

Part III

As Lucius continued to wield the whip with unrelenting strength, he was growing increasingly frustrated at that delicate-looking girl that was defying him, as if mocking his skill as a torturer, and himself as a man.

The seventeenth lash was skillfully directed and as if in a slow motion the amazon could feel when it landed in the upper section of her left dorsal muscle, and then as the whip continued its relentless impact to the right and slightly uphill, until the end of the rod wrapped along the side of her right breast and the tip hit the gentle areola with unimaginable force. Sylvina wriggled in pain and only with great effort of will she could hold the scream that was forcing its way out the throat. Being behind her, Lucius could not see the reaction and was in disbelief how that hit did not extract even a moan.

Bassus on the other hand, could see her face and knew that with every stroke her strength was wearing off. He ordered the frustrated Lucius to stop and closed on Sylvina. “You may play defiant for a while, but I can continue flogging you for as long as I deem necessary. Tell me which the most vulnerable pass is and where are its secret passages!” Sylvina spit his on the face. “You insolent bitch!” Bassus slapped her across the face. “Whip her! Whip her!” he shouted in fury towards Lucius.

Sylvina was by now sweating profusely, her whole body was glistering in moist and as the next lash cut through her skin, tiny droplets of blood and sweat splashed around. She was gnashing her teeth in continuous determination not to utter a sound, while the whip landed repeatedly across her arching back. Lucius had moved a bit closer and the lashes struck the side of her ribs and tits. The thirtieth stroke she counted hit the areola of the left breast causing excruciating pain that vibrated throughout her tortured body. Sylvina bit her lower lip to blood and somehow withheld her scream. She was in agony, she wanted the torment to stop but her training and determination prevailed. Sylvina remembered she could stay silent while flogged with the amazons’ heaviest whip for twenty-six lashes at best, and now she had endured thirty without a moan. Filled with pride, she glanced defiantly at Bassus and spit the blood from her mouth.

Lucius had to stop to drink water and regain the strength of his hand. He felt humiliated that he could not extract event the slightest sound from that girl and promised himself he would make her scream, one way or another. And then he would ravage the whore’s arse and would not stop until she pleaded for mercy.

Refreshed, Lucius turned to her gracious slightly protuberant buttocks that lay fully exposed, as the backside of the tiny loincloth barely covered the butt crack. The whip landed viciously across the middle of the buttocks, leaving a reddish welt on the gentle skin. Though painful, the first six lashes came almost as a relief to Sylvina, but the next six hits crisscrossed the bleeding straps, adding to the overall agony. Her whole backside from the neck down to the gluteal crease felt as if numerous fires were burning all over and in constantly growing number. The next lash struck at the back dimples and hit the rope that was holding the loincloth. Lucius reached out his hand and tore the rope, removing what meager cover Sylvina had left and exposing her swollen moist sex without a single hair, much to the satisfaction of the men in the room.

“Ha! This whore seems eager for some dicks!”, one of the soldiers exclaimed excitedly. “Can’t wait to thrust mine in there!” another man shouted.

“We’ll get to there, Crassus”, Bassus said. “Which is the most vulnerable pass?” he turned to Sylvina, keeping his distance. Silence. “Continue!” Bassus nodded to Lucius.

Another fiery lash cut through the upper section of Sylvina’s bleeding back, filling her with anguish. The need to scream out her pain filled every section of her mind. “Forty-four” she forced herself to concentrate on the counting, gnashing her white teeth. She did not want her face to express the full extent of the immense suffering that was overwhelming her wriggling body. She was determined to deprive her tormentors of this satisfaction. At least for ten more lashes. The next ten strokes slowly thrashed across the back and the buttocks, filling them with ever denser cover of bloody red stripes. Lucius took his time between the strokes so that she could fully feel the agony of every single one. And she did.

Sylvina was growing dizzy and almost lost the count, almost forgot that she had decided not to scream. And yet again her spirit remained unbroken. Number sixty went on, and she was still silent, her back arching forward, at times her head bent backwards, her eyes facing the ceiling, to hide the excruciating pain from Bassus and the spectators. Her hands were increasingly hurting, as she hung from the chains above her head. Despite the dizziness, she could still feel the piercing strength and the fiery pain of every lash. She had never imagined that such anguish could be caused by a simple whip, even before hot irons were applied. Sylvina was looking at Brassus’ smug face. “Will you speak?” Silence. And the crack of the scourge impacting her twisting body filled again the dungeon and echoed along the corridors outside. “Eighty-three”, she thought, “I can’t hold it, I will scream on the next… it must alleviate me…” The next lash hit with great strength but not as terrible as the previous ones. “He must be tiring… I can… I will…” Four more followed and not a sound from her. “Will you speak?” Silence.

Bassus was beginning to grow irritated. The strongest man in his garrison was flogging the amazon for over an hour; at his estimate she had taken almost a hundred lashes in full force and yet she did not utter a sound. Bassus knew that Sylvina would not speak as cruel as the first whipping was. Hell, even that piece of fuck meat in the dungeon’s other corner did not tell him anything during the first session. But she screamed. Yes, she cursed, she threatened much to his entertainment, but her cries of pain were echoing along the castrum’s dungeons.

However, this was six months ago and he had all the time in the world. He could have taken the information in less than two weeks, but he decided to see if he could break Fenia only with the whip, and he did not have her flogged every day, so that she could recover and offer more sport. Eventually, he had to use the iron rods as well, but only a few were enough for the girl to speak out everything. Now he knew he had one week to extract the information. The legions of general Marcus Licinius Crassus were already marching into Cappadocia and would arrive in days. The attack on the Amazon kingdom was to begin next week.

“Quintus, take Lucius’ place” Bassus ordered. “I will break her!” Lucius shouted in frustration and holding the whip in both his hands, he hit Sylvina’s exposed back employing all the strength he had in his body. As the terrible instrument impacted the skin with a cracking sound, droplets of blood and sweat could reach some of the men gather to spectate the ordeal. This time the pain was so overwhelming for Sylvina’s tortured mind, that she forgot she had to count, all she could think was to scream, and scream, and scream. As her face was looking at the ceiling, her eyes wide open, her lips crooked in a distorted expression of ultimate suffering, Sylvina passed out before any sound left from her mouth.

 

[batak_b]

Part IV

“Damn it, Lucius! I need that wrench alive, until she sings! When I give orders, you follow them, or you’ll take her place” Bassus shouted. “Pull her down!”

The men lowered the chains and Sylvana’s unconscious body lay on the floor. Then they hoisted her again, her hands above the head, but this time her legs were fixed comfortably on the floor, two feet apart. “Now wake her up with the thinnest rod!” The torturer who Bassus named Quintus searched in several of the braziers the appropriate instrument, while Lucius was pulling a buckle of water over his sweating torso, murmuring. In a few moments, Quintus found a thin rod, glowing white from heat and headed to the amazon. In the meantime, two soldiers brought one sack and placed it behind Sylvina. On Bassus’ nod, Quintus placed the rod on the inner part of the girl’s left thigh and held it firmly for several seconds, as Sylvina was pulled out from her blissful state of unconsciousness. She came to her senses with a loud shriek that made Bassus grin.

“That’s my girl”, he said and pulled her head up, holding onto her black hair. “Was it so difficult?” His unpleasant breath was filling her sense of smell, while all her other senses were still recovering from the shock of her untimely awakening. She could see Bassus’ smirk and the faces of several men ahead; she heard someone was untying a sack from behind.

“You see, my dedicated soldiers have sacrificed their whole weekly ration of salt for your good health” Bassus explained as the men in the dungeon burst into laughter, “this will fasten the closing of the wounds and prevent infection, though I’m afraid it may hurt a little bit.”

“Go ahead!” he ordered. One soldier took a fistful of salt and slowly started applying it to Sylvina’s bloodied back at the shoulders, rubbing coarsely the grains of salt onto the welts. “AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH!” With eyes wide open, Sylvina began screaming continuously as the salt penetrated the wounds, welded into the torn skin and burned her muscles in unimaginable wave of pain. Every new rub brought sharp pain, which instead of withering, kept growing, expanding, burning, itching. Her howls could be heard by the prisoners in other cells, her body shook uncontrollably as the soldier very slowly and methodically applied the substance downwards. With her feet on the ground and her hands relatively loosely fastened, Sylvina’s torso was constantly wriggling forward in futile attempts to escape the burning torment. The shrieks filled her lungs to the limit, causing her ribs to contract immensely. Her magnificent pair of firm breasts were jiggling upwards, her gentle sex was repeatedly pointing at the men ahead, almost invitingly.

Bassus was smiling with satisfaction, even Lucius seemed cheered. He knew he would torture her again tomorrow. The men watched the beautiful warrior’s body twist in agony as the soldier was applying the salt along her buttocks. For Sylvina, this was a never ending cycle of pain that slowly replaced the ache of the whip marks with almost unbearable anguish spreading like a wildfire along her backside. At times, she had the impression that she could feel every single coarse piece of salt melting into her flesh and consuming it as if with fire. She begged the Goddess to make her faint but in vain. As if in ages, the soldier stopped but the waves of pain persisted. Her throat was feeling coarse from the constant cries. Eventually the screams died out but the pain remained, pulsating across her tortured back and buttocks.

“Now I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you alone for a few hours but don’t you worry, we’ll get to know one another more intimately this evening! My boys won’t touch you …until then.”

Sylvina was trying to regain some strength and to rest but her backside was hurting badly, the blood almost stopped dripping from her welted olive skin but she could feel the whip marks still burning. As the shock of the salt melting on her flesh was wearing off, her back and buttocks started itching unbearably. With her hands chained overhead, it was impossible to alleviate this irritating discomfort and she continuously twisted her torso and hips, almost like a harem dancer, arousing the men in the dungeon, who were waiting impatiently the return of Bassus. As time passed, half-awake, half-unconscious, Sylvina was persisting in the attempt to restore her constitution. She knew she would need all her sanity and strength to fulfill her plan. She forced herself to breathe calmly, deeply, in equal intervals, as she had practiced. Even the most vicious whippings she had received during her training did not resemble the scourging she had just endured, but the principle was the same.

Sylvina had somehow managed to fall in a weary state of sleep, when was awoken when the dungeon’s door slammed as Bassus and several other men entered the premise. “It seems the excitement for our romantic encounter has refreshed you”, Bassus noted. “I would like to introduce you to my commanding staff, with whom you’ll have an appointment after we’re done” he pointed at his entourage. “You don’t seem to be a very smart girl, so I guess it’ll be enough for you to remember Titus Septimus Vitalis, my deputy.” Sylvina saw an averagely built man coming forward. He had a bald grey haired face ripped by a deep scar on the left, with small cold eyes and cruel lips.

Bassus approached Sylvina’s restrained naked body, grabbed her exposed sex and ran his middle finger between the gentle labia. “Ha! We’ve got a virgin here, boys!” he said laughing. “You ain’t that moist now, eh?” he continued. “Your cunt was all wet while you were dancing under the lash! You liked our little performance, didn’t you?”

Sylvina had, in fact, developed a certain perverted sense of enjoyment being stripped and lashed during her years of training. She was thrilled by unlikely combination of fiery pain and pleasure that aroused insatiable desire between her loins and after flogging she would spend hours intertwined with her lover Kayra, while her back, and at times also front were still aching under the pinching ointment that the amazons used to fully heal wounds in a matter of days. However, today’s whipping was so excruciatingly painful, and Sylvina was so obsessed in her determination to remain silent, that she failed to notice any arousal. She was not surprised, though, at hearing the Roman’s observation.

“Why didn’t you prepare that wrench for me?” Bassus shouted at Fenia who was still chained between the columns. “You’ll get ten lashes tomorrow for that insolence!”

“Master, please, mercy! I was not even unti…” Fenia pleaded in despair before he interrupted her abruptly.

“Twenty! I told you to forget that word! Marcus, get the hourglass here! For every time I turn the hourglass and that wench is not wet, you’ll get ten more strokes!”

Without a hurry, one man unchained the blond girl, who collapsed on the floor and had to crawl to reach Sylvina. She rose on her knees and hurriedly began licking Sylvina’s labia and clit, alternating this with gentle intense rubbing, sliding her fingers between the labia. Fenia was desperately trying to salivate as much as she could, while she rotated her tongue and sucked Sylvina’s clit. She shrugged and sobbed when Bassus announced “Ten more!” and redoubled her efforts.