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The Law

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I'm pleased you decided to share your story. It ticked all the boxes for me. I liked the way you leave a lot to the imagination of the reader; the whipping for instance described the girl's position, but the way her back was torn to shreds was left up to me to visualize...I'm still thinking about it now, so thank you for that.
I hope you continue to write and share with everyone. I want to read more from your dark, beautiful mind.x
 
There are so many excellent stories here that I hesitate to post mine. However, Here it is. I hope you enjoy.


The Law



The cell stank, as all cells in this prison did. The girl looked up at me from where she was huddled in the straw. Her eyes were big with fear.


“It’s time, little one.” The light from the lantern the guard carried was warm in the pre-dawn darkness, not that much light ever penetrated into these cells. They were, after all, merely a way station on the way to execution. The girl struggled to her feet, the fetters too big and heavy for her slender form.


I felt sorry for the girl. She had done nothing wrong, apart from being a slave in the household of a senator who had been murdered. In terms of the law, all slaves in such a household were crucified.


I had pleaded with the heir, an arrogant young sprig of the nobility, to spare the younger slaves. He had insisted on his rights. “I want to watch them die! All of them! Make it slow!”


The girl was on her feet now. “The shift. It belongs to the heir.” She nodded, lifting her shackled and chained hands to undo the tapes that secured the flimsy garment at her shoulders. The thin fabric pooled around her ankles.


Her body was pale, slender, but with the strength of someone who had worked hard all her short life. Her long legs were shapely, her body beautifully proportioned, hips just starting to fill. She was still boyish, but with the promise of great beauty, a promise that would never be fulfilled.


“Did your master fuck you?” The question had to be asked. It was illegal to execute a virgin. If she were one, one of the guards would have to relieve her of her virginity, so that she could die in accordance with the law.


She shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “His son did, the heir. From when I was very young.” Most of her life, I thought. Years of being fucked by that pompous little prick. Yet he wouldn’t lift a finger to save her.


She walked ahead of me, her back straight, her head up. Somehow she managed to move gracefully despite the chains. Her back was beautiful, the long muscles fusing perfectly into high, tight buttocks. It would not be beautiful for long.


Dawn was just breaking as we entered the square. There was already a small crowd of spectators. The household contained a number of attractive young slaves, ensuring that there would be a crowd to watch their flogging and crucifixion. The first slave to be flogged was already tied to the whipping post, a frail old man who had been the butler. The two floggers stood by. One right-handed, one left-handed, so that the strokes would be symmetrical. If he was lucky the flogging would kill him.


The old man was lucky! Not so the other slaves in the household. One by one their backs were flayed. I could feel the girl shivering next to me, tears running down her cheeks. A girl in her teens was lashed to the post, her breasts seemed too heavy for her slender torso. “She was the master’s favourite,” the girl said softly. The crowd murmured in satisfaction at the sight. By the third blow she was screaming. The weighted thongs wrapping around her torso to smash into the sides of her breasts. I put my hand on the girl’s shoulder. She was next.


The whipped slaves, all except the dead old man, were kneeling in the square, the heavy crossbars of their crosses across their raw shoulders, arms tied firmly to the timber. The busty girl was cut down from the post, collapsing in the bloody mud. A bucket of brine revived her, screaming! The screaming continued as the crossbar was tied across her bloody shoulders!


I led the girl forward. A guard unlocked her shackles, tying her to the post, her arms stretched high above her head, pulling her body taught as she stood on her toes. The heir, her former ‘lover’, spoke to the floggers. “Strip her back, but don’t weaken her too much. I want to see her dance for a long time.”


She gave me a last, pleading look as the first stroke knocked the breath from her body.


Ten minutes later she was cut down. She managed to stay on her feet, staggering to where the last crossbar lay. Her back was no longer a thing of beauty, now a bloody mess of raw flesh and scraps of skin.


She whimpered as the rough baulk of timber was tied across those raw shoulders, her legs buckling under the weight. The other slaves were whipped to their feet to start the long walk to the city gate, the last walk any of them would take.


The crowd followed, as did the heir, his skin shielded from the morning sun by a parasol borne by an almost naked slave girl who was barely older than the girl now walking to her death.


It took some time, and much encouragement with the whips before the procession reached the gate. The slaves were relieved of the weight on their shoulders, taking advantage of the last chance to stretch their shoulders they would ever have. Then the screams started as, one by one, they were nailed to their crossbars.


The girl was last. She looked at me pleadingly as the executioner took her shoulder and led her to the crossbar. He held four square cut spikes, the heads over-large to prevent them tearing out of the flesh. Her eyes stayed focused on mine as she was laid down with her raw back in the dirt, her arms stretched along the crossbar. I wished she would look away, but I couldn’t break eye contact. For some strange reason I felt I owed her the comfort it gave her.


I saw her eyes widen a moment before the sound of the hammer hitting the spike reached me. Her back arched and she struggled against the men holding her down. Then she screamed! Her head turned toward her hand, her eyes looking in disbelief at the spike that now penetrated her wrist, shattering bone as it went through into the wood below! Two more blows drove the spike all the way home.


She had stopped screaming, sobbing bitterly through the pain. Her back arched again as the other wrist was nailed, her heels hammering against the ground. Two men started dragging the crossbar, with her attached, to where the upright stood. As they prepared to pull her up to the top of the upright the heir shouted, “Wait!”

For a moment her eyes showed hope through the pain, then she realised he was lifting his tunic. She gave a despairing moan as he kicked her legs apart, knelt between then and drove himself into her body.


He was mercifully quick. Wiping himself on her hair, he nodded to the executioner. “Proceed!”


Her screams drowned out the moans and cries of the already crucified slaves as she was dragged up the upright, all her weight hanging from her mutilated wrists, her flayed back scraping against the rough timber. The crossbar was bolted fast. The executioner grabbed her flailing right leg, bending the knee and placing the foot along the side of the upright. An assistant held the foot as he drove the spike through the gap between the Achilles tendon and the anklebone. The other foot was soon nailed.

Her legs spread wide, semen dripping slowly from her, she hung on the cross, screaming her agony,


The girl was strong, the will to live was strong. She would live for a long time! Two, perhaps three days.


I could watch no more. Duty done, I trudged into the city.
Excellent story, Thank's! Please continue writing!
 
Wow. Great story indeed.

In fact I didn't enjoy. The fate of the girl filled me with pity. I would like the heir will face a similar fate - perhaps when traveling to Germania or Egypt and falling into the hands of rebels. And a young girl cuts off his genitals - slowly, very slowly........

It is a good story, however I too would have rather seen the young heir meet some type of dastardly fate. Perhaps at the foot of her cross having antagonized a guard who himself was having a particularly bad day.

A real question in my mind is whether slaves were so cheap in old Rome. Understand the purpose of the “law” was to keep the nobility safe as possible from their slaves. But, killing all the slaves of a large household would seem to be a major financial issue for a family. Selling them to the salt mines or as galley slaves might not be as dramatic as crucifixion, however it would be much more financially viable.
Thoughts?
 
It is a good story, however I too would have rather seen the young heir meet some type of dastardly fate. Perhaps at the foot of her cross having antagonized a guard who himself was having a particularly bad day.

A real question in my mind is whether slaves were so cheap in old Rome. Understand the purpose of the “law” was to keep the nobility safe as possible from their slaves. But, killing all the slaves of a large household would seem to be a major financial issue for a family. Selling them to the salt mines or as galley slaves might not be as dramatic as crucifixion, however it would be much more financially viable.
Thoughts?
As far as I know it was standard practice to execute all slaves if the owner was murdered. I suppose it was meant as a warning to others not to kill their owners.
 
As far as I know it was standard practice to execute all slaves if the owner was murdered. I suppose it was meant as a warning to others not to kill their owners.

Am sure that indeed it was a very dramatic warning to the slaves of other owners. Such a mass crucifixion doubtless would have that effect.

But pause to think of the financial effect on even a very wealthy family assuming some members survived whatever attack occurred. The immediate difficulty and financial costs of losing and replacing their entire slave complement of servants at all levels, cooks, guards, field labors, etc. could be enormous — if not ruinous. Hard to believe the ruling elite would penalize their own in such a way.

Must be missing something here. Am confident that there are folks on this site with authoritative knowledge on this issue. Again, any thoughts?
 
There are so many excellent stories here that I hesitate to post mine. However, Here it is. I hope you enjoy.

The Law

A powerful story of cruelty and suffering born from injustice. One might hope it sparks some good (like prompting a reconsideration of the law) or at least some karma (like beggaring the heir), but these are probably just wishful thinking. Even the narrator seems unchanged, for all he pites them.

It is a good story, however I too would have rather seen the young heir meet some type of dastardly fate. Perhaps at the foot of her cross having antagonized a guard who himself was having a particularly bad day.

Sadly life is not so fair. However as you point out, he may have stabbed himself in the foot by throwing all that valuable property away - perhpas debt will catch up with him and land him in slavery himself.

As far as I know it was standard practice to execute all slaves if the owner was murdered. I suppose it was meant as a warning to others not to kill their owners.

I've heard it was more of a "nuclear deterrent". Although of course it was probably used more in some eras than others. And of course, how many slaves there were and what kind mattered too.
 
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