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The Fate of a Goth Girl

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Praefectus Praetorio said:
The Spaniard

The Centurion handed Quintus the whip to administer the first four blows. This man had been born in a poor town in the province of Cartheginiensis in Hispania. The fifth of six children of an often drunken day laborer, Quintus had been the proverbial ‘runt of the litter' at first. However, he grew...and grew...and grew! By the time he was twelve, he dwarfed his father and older brothers. However, opportunity in the poverty-stricken village, even for a giant of a man, was limited to exhausting drudgery and occasional drunkenness.

Then one day, a conquisitor (recruiting officer) for the Roman exercitus (army – meaning a group of men exercised in military training) came to the village. This strong lad seemed ideal for the army. At 15, Quintus was a bit younger than the traditional limit of 17, though he was over the (recently lowered) minimum age of 13, and well exceeded the minimum height of 5’ 8”. The opportunities for regular pay, possible plunder, comradeship, and travel enraptured the youth. A few hours later, he was accepted as a Probatus, one approved for training, the first stage of being a Tirones, a basic recruit. Three months later, well ahead of schedule, having easily passed all strength and proficiency tests, he became a Signatus (marked or recognized), meaning officially enlisted. His name with his age and any distinguishing marks were added to the unit’s record. Still a Tirones, but a fully qualified soldier, Quintus took to the military life like a fish to water and never looked back.

Quintus took the weapon from his Centurion in his left hand. Calixtus had wisely chosen a right- and a left-hander to spread the blows in a maximally devastating spread. Maximinus took his stand about five pedes behind and two pedes to the right of the bound serva. He gave a few stretches and flexes to loosen his tight sinews for the work ahead. Several of his contubernalium (tentmates, comrades) noticed a large bulge forming in the front of his tunic. They nudged each other and snickered at their friend becoming aroused at the prospect of torturing this sexy German. They joked that he was keeping his best weapon sub rosa (concealed). It was a reaction that many in the atrium shared.

Quintus turned and twisted his body one last time to loosen up for his first stroke. Then he swept the flagrum through the air in two practice swings. Many of the onlookers caught their breath at the sight and sound of the heavy weapon slicing through the air. How delicious it would be when it made contact with the Goth girl’s soft back! Quintus stood still for a moment, his eyes fixed on Barbaria’s back. He looked to Calixtus.
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A Spaniard picking up on what was back then most likely a 'new adage' - "When in Rome ..."
 
It is time for my warning. Tomorrow, the hammer falls - hard! Many have been enjoying a story of character, place, and custom, with humor and multiple threads interlocking. For example, I really enjoy supplying Qunitus' background - thinking how a young man would join the legions.
But, now, it is unavoidable that the focus must narrow into the brutal flogging of this young woman. No more, fat, drunken sissies. Two strong and professional men will be applying that horrible weapon to her defenseless body. The destruction will be awesome. I am squeamish. I shall not wallow in her blood. I shall not over-concentrate on gore but gore shall be everywhere. I have chosen to write a story that will read like a true recounting of a historical Roman punishment. And Roman punishments were vicious and brutal.

For Example:
If an army unit was found guilty of cowardice or desertion, they would be sentenced to the punishment of decimatio (decimation). The men would be forced to draw lots and one-tenth would have lots to be killed. But not just killed, fūstuārium (beaten to death). This was done by the remained 90%. Can you imagine being tied up like an animal for slaughter and then nine men with fustes (cudgels like heavy baseball bats), beating you until you die? Crushed flesh, shattered bones, skulls broken apart! No mercy shown.

So, those who have come to have a degree of affection and even a soft spot for the Goth Girl, might consider skimming or even skipping much of the rest of the story.

Tomorrow, it begins!
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
It is time for my warning. Tomorrow, the hammer falls - hard! Many have been enjoying a story of character, place, and custom, with humor and multiple threads interlocking. For example, I really enjoy supplying Qunitus' background - thinking how a young man would join the legions.
But, now, it is unavoidable that the focus must narrow into the brutal flogging of this young woman. No more, fat, drunken sissies. Two strong and professional men will be applying that horrible weapon to her defenseless body. The destruction will be awesome. I am squeamish. I shall not wallow in her blood. I shall not over-concentrate on gore but gore shall be everywhere. I have chosen to write a story that will read like a true recounting of a historical Roman punishment. And Roman punishments were vicious and brutal.

For Example:
If an army unit was found guilty of cowardice or desertion, they would be sentenced to the punishment of decimatio (decimation). The men would be forced to draw lots and one-tenth would have lots to be killed. But not just killed, fūstuārium (beaten to death). This was done by the remained 90%. Can you imagine being tied up like an animal for slaughter and then nine men with fustes (cudgels like heavy baseball bats), beating you until you die? Crushed flesh, shattered bones, skulls broken apart! No mercy shown.

So, those who have come to have a degree of affection and even a soft spot for the Goth Girl, might consider skimming or even skipping much of the rest of the story.

Tomorrow, it begins!
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The family aren't going to rescue her I guess ..............
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
It is time for my warning. Tomorrow, the hammer falls - hard! Many have been enjoying a story of character, place, and custom, with humor and multiple threads interlocking. For example, I really enjoy supplying Qunitus' background - thinking how a young man would join the legions.
But, now, it is unavoidable that the focus must narrow into the brutal flogging of this young woman. No more, fat, drunken sissies. Two strong and professional men will be applying that horrible weapon to her defenseless body. The destruction will be awesome. I am squeamish. I shall not wallow in her blood. I shall not over-concentrate on gore but gore shall be everywhere. I have chosen to write a story that will read like a true recounting of a historical Roman punishment. And Roman punishments were vicious and brutal.

For Example:
If an army unit was found guilty of cowardice or desertion, they would be sentenced to the punishment of decimatio (decimation). The men would be forced to draw lots and one-tenth would have lots to be killed. But not just killed, fūstuārium (beaten to death). This was done by the remained 90%. Can you imagine being tied up like an animal for slaughter and then nine men with fustes (cudgels like heavy baseball bats), beating you until you die? Crushed flesh, shattered bones, skulls broken apart! No mercy shown.

So, those who have come to have a degree of affection and even a soft spot for the Goth Girl, might consider skimming or even skipping much of the rest of the story.

Tomorrow, it begins!
Click to expand...
What a wonderful warning/build-up - I can hardly wait! As an aside there is a brutal depiction of decimatio in the Spartacus TV series ...
 
First Blood

Centurion Calixtus nodded and said, “Quinte. Procede ad voluntatem (Quintus. Proceed at will).”

Turning back toward the post, the Decanus swept his arm back while taking three quick paces forward and then swung the whip to land in the center of her shoulders. The dull thud of the impact resounded throughout the enclosed space as Barbaria’s head flew back, her mouth gaping open. Somehow, despite the unbelievable pain, she remained silent. She held still for a moment, holding a pose as though she were howling at the moon, and then she slumped back onto the post, tremors of pain racking her body. Never had she imagined such pain from a single lash!
Small round, brown bruises from the impact of the lead balls almost instantly produced a matrix of pain on her shoulders while red spots of blood drawn by the cutting ends of the wires appeared almost immediately on her fair skin. One down, fifteen to go. There were already multiple cuts in her flesh.

Quintus slowly returned to his place, deliberately shook out the whiptails so that they would fly freely, and turned toward the post.
The Decanus picked his next target on her soft flesh, measured the distance in his mind, and then surged forward. Bringing the scourge in a downward sweeping arc from her left to right, accelerated by his run, he beat it onto her lower back with a heavy blow.
The girl grunted loudly as her body pounded against the post and air was driven from her lungs. More brown dots appeared, along with red stripes from the leather and bleeding cuts from the hooked wire. The bruises from the first blow were now purple and rivulets of blood oozed down her upper back. The marks from the second blow stretched from her flank toward her spine. As the flogger returned to his starting position, Barb had her eyes squeezed shut, her lips fluttering in pain, her breath uneven and coming in ragged pants.

Maximinus assessed the girl’s already damaged torso to choose his next target. Drawing the whip back and low in his powerful arm while twisting his body, he drove forward and landed his next strike on the left cheek of her round pert ass that was so enticingly presented. This time, he flicked his wrist at the last moment to draw the thongs into a slicing motion so that the wires would cause longer, deeper cuts.
Barbaria gasped air into her lungs, then screamed “Iiiieeeee!” in an ear-shattering voice that filled the atrium. For the first time today, the Goth gave her tormentors the satisfaction of hearing her suffer. Her willpower to resist had broken. This pain was unbelievable. Blinding stars flashed in her sight.

Quintus waited as his victim writhed against her bonds and panted out her agony. Long, deep cuts appeared in the flesh of her ass. Then he drove ahead and landed his strongest blow yet, centered on the small of her back.
“Aaguuuh,” came a deeper, more soulful exclamation of pain. The onlookers could now see her entire rear was covered in purple and black bruising and widespread bleeding decorating her white skin with red streaks and dripping rivulets.

“Quattuor complebitus est (four have been completed),” said the Centurion.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
First Blood

Centurion Calixtus nodded and said, “Quinte. Procede ad voluntatem (Quintus. Proceed at will).”

Turning back toward the post, the Decanus swept his arm back while taking three quick paces forward and then swung the whip to land in the center of her shoulders. The dull thud of the impact resounded throughout the enclosed space as Barbaria’s head flew back, her mouth gaping open. Somehow, despite the unbelievable pain, she remained silent. She held still for a moment, holding a pose as though she were howling at the moon, and then she slumped back onto the post, tremors of pain racking her body. Never had she imagined such pain from a single lash!
Small round, brown bruises from the impact of the lead balls almost instantly produced a matrix of pain on her shoulders while red spots of blood drawn by the cutting ends of the wires appeared almost immediately on her fair skin. One down, fifteen to go. There were already multiple cuts in her flesh.

Quintus slowly returned to his place, deliberately shook out the whiptails so that they would fly freely, and turned toward the post.
The Decanus picked his next target on her soft flesh, measured the distance in his mind, and then surged forward. Bringing the scourge in a downward sweeping arc from her left to right, accelerated by his run, he beat it onto her lower back with a heavy blow.
The girl grunted loudly as her body pounded against the post and air was driven from her lungs. More brown dots appeared, along with red stripes from the leather and bleeding cuts from the hooked wire. The bruises from the first blow were now purple and rivulets of blood oozed down her upper back. The marks from the second blow stretched from her flank toward her spine. As the flogger returned to his starting position, Barb had her eyes squeezed shut, her lips fluttering in pain, her breath uneven and coming in ragged pants.

Maximinus assessed the girl’s already damaged torso to choose his next target. Drawing the whip back and low in his powerful arm while twisting his body, he drove forward and landed his next strike on the left cheek of her round pert ass that was so enticingly presented. This time, he flicked his wrist at the last moment to draw the thongs into a slicing motion so that the wires would cause longer, deeper cuts.
Barbaria gasped air into her lungs, then screamed “Iiiieeeee!” in an ear-shattering voice that filled the atrium. For the first time today, the Goth gave her tormentors the satisfaction of hearing her suffer. Her willpower to resist had broken. This pain was unbelievable. Blinding stars flashed in her sight.

Quintus waited as his victim writhed against her bonds and panted out her agony. Long, deep cuts appeared in the flesh of her ass. Then he drove ahead and landed his strongest blow yet, centered on the small of her back.
“Aaguuuh,” came a deeper, more soulful exclamation of pain. The onlookers could now see her entire rear was covered in purple and black bruising and widespread bleeding decorating her white skin with red streaks and dripping rivulets.

“Quattuor complebitus est (four have been completed),” said the Centurion.
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Only four ... damn! The scourging is designed to take its victim as near to death as is possible without actually stopping her heart This one will be no exception!
 
Pablo Picasso is often quoted as saying: “Good artists copy, great artists steal.” Given my level of talent, I must be one of the copiers. However, you say it, I hereby acknowledge that some ideas and even some phrases here are taken from @King Diocletian ’s stories, “The Scapegoat,” and “Miss Berkeley's Voyage,” as well as @Jon Smithie 's wonderful, and still-ongoing extension of KD's story, “Mina Berkeley's Voyage.”
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
Pablo Picasso is often quoted as saying: “Good artists copy, great artists steal.” Given my level of talent, I must be one of the copiers. However, you say it, I hereby acknowledge that some ideas and even some phrases here are taken from @King Diocletian ’s stories, “The Scapegoat,” and “Miss Berkeley's Voyage,” as well as @Jon Smithie 's wonderful, and still-ongoing extension of KD's story, “Mina Berkeley's Voyage.”
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Both seminal works for sure and creative sources for many of us.
 
Another actor, Mogurix, steps to center stage. Perhaps he will show poor Barbaria some mercy.

Turning to his Optio, Gaius said, “Mogure Acaunissa, flagrum assumeres (you may take up the scourge).” The large Gaul took the flagrum in his beefy hand and assumed his place.

Mogurix had been born in Elusa (modern Eauze), the capital of the Roman province of Novempopulania. The Acaunissas were descendants of a proud and noble family of the Ausci tribe part of what the Romans called Aquitaniae. The Ausci spoke a dialect of the Aquitanian language which was a precursor of the Basque language. By the mid 4th century, any illustrious origin of Morgurix’s family has long since lost any value. However, that didn’t prevent the persistence of strong family pride. Mogurix had been raised to remember his brave and warlike ancestors. As the boy grew to be a giant of a young man, he commanded respect from all around him.
After four hundred years, resentment against Caesar’s conquests had faded into distant memory, but the ever pugnacious Ausci had suffered new insults and found a new enemy - Germans. Barbarian tribespeople who first arrived, raping and pillaging, during the Crisis of the Third Century. More recently, scatterings of germanic Goths came, mostly peacefully, but, nevertheless, competing with the Ausci for precious land and resources. These newcomers reawakened the visceral hatred from the native Celts for anything Germanic.

When the conquisitor came to Elusa recruiting, he, of course, wanted the Gallic giant for the Roman Army. At first, Mogurix had little interest in working for the Romans. So, the recruiter took the lad ad tabernam (to a tavern) for wine and pumped him to find what his interests were. Soon the taste of the grape loosened his tongue and the Gaul had let slip his family’s hatred of Germani. Mogurix railed against the scum, who he said were destroying Ausci lives and meriting extermination. The conquisitor happily pointed out the role of the legions in defending the Rhine border and even conducting punitive expeditions into Germania proper. Mogurix was instantly convinced. He enlisted and was assigned to Legio I Flavia Martis (the Flavian legion, dedicated to Mars) serving as a field army near the Rhine border. There, Acaunissa quickly gained a reputation for his bloodthirsty hatred of the Germanorum.
Mogurix spent eight years fighting on the Rhine, rising to the rank of Tesserarius. Then, three years ago, his century had been detached from border duty to garrison Narbo.

During those last three years, Acaunissa had continued to excel and had risen to be made Optio and a respected leader of the troops. But he never lost his disappointment at not having Germans to fight. Yesterday, he had been overjoyed to supervise Barbaria’s torment in the sack. It had been very rewarding, but he was frustrated at being told not to cause any severe wounds. He would have loved having her, bound and naked in the open, going after her cum fustes (with a cudgel) and beating her to death as in a decimatio (decimation, an extreme Roman military punishment). Now, this giant Ausci Gaul was being asked to punish the german Goth girl cum flagrum. He had been almost drooling in anticipation.
 
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The Crisis of the Third Century (235–284 CE), was a period in which the Roman Empire nearly collapsed. Beginning with the assassination of Emperor Severus Alexander by his own troops in 235, the Empire came under the combined pressures of barbarian invasions, civil wars, peasant rebellions, reliance on barbarian mercenaries, plague, and economic depression.
This 50-year period saw at least 26 claimants to the title of emperor, mostly Roman army generals. During this period, the Roman Empire came within a hair’s breadth of collapse, two centuries before its final end in the West. The crisis ended with the ascension of Diocletian and his implementation of reforms in 284 CE. See my story “Minnesota Moore and the Emperors’ Treasure” - https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resou...mperors-treasure-by-praefectus-praetorio.710/.
 
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Praefectus Praetorio said:
Another actor, Mogurix, steps to center stage. Perhaps he will show poor Barbaria some mercy.

Turning to his Optio, Gaius said, “Mogure Acaunissa, flagrum assumeres (you may take up the scourge).” The large Gaul took the flagrum in his beefy hand and assumed his place.

Mogurix had been born in Elusa (modern Eauze), the capital of the Roman province of Novempopulania. The Acaunissas were descendants of a proud and noble family of the Ausci tribe part of what the Romans called Aquitaniae. The Ausci spoke a dialect of the Aquitanian language which was a precursor of the Basque language. By the mid 4th century, any illustrious origin of Morgurix’s family has long since lost any value. However, that didn’t prevent the persistence of strong family pride. Mogurix had been raised to remember his brave and warlike ancestors. As the boy grew to be a giant of a young man, he commanded respect from all around him.
After four hundred years, resentment against Caesar’s conquests had faded into distant memory, but the ever pugnacious Ausci had suffered new insults and found a new enemy - Germans. Barbarian tribespeople who first arrived, raping and pillaging, during the Crisis of the Third Century. More recently, scatterings of germanic Goths came, mostly peacefully, but, nevertheless, competing with the Ausci for precious land and resources. These newcomers reawakened the visceral hatred from the native Celts for anything Germanic.

When the conquisitor came to Elusa recruiting, he, of course, wanted the Gallic giant for the Roman Army. At first, Mogurix had little interest in working for the Romans. So, the recruiter took the lad ad tabernam (to a tavern) for wine and pumped him to find what his interests were. Soon the taste of the grape loosened his tongue and the Gaul had let slip his family’s hatred of Germani. Mogurix railed against the scum, who he said were destroying Ausci lives and meriting extermination. The conquisitor happily pointed out the role of the legions in defending the Rhine border and even conducting punitive expeditions into Germania proper. Mogurix was instantly convinced. He enlisted and was assigned to Legio I Flavia Martis (the Flavian legion, dedicated to Mars) serving as a field army near the Rhine border. There, Acaunissa quickly gained a reputation for his bloodthirsty hatred of the Germanorum.
Mogurix spent eight years fighting on the Rhine, rising to the rank of Tesserarius. Then, three years ago, his century had been detached from border duty to garrison Narbo.

During those last three years, Acaunissa had continued to excel and had risen to be made Optio and a respected leader of the troops. But he never lost his disappointment at not having Germans to fight. Yesterday, he had been overjoyed to supervise Barbaria’s torment in the sack. It had been very rewarding, but he was frustrated at being told not to cause any severe wounds. He would have loved having her, bound and naked in the open, going after her cum fustes (with a cudgel) and beating her to death as in a decimatio (decimation, an extreme Roman military punishment). Now, this giant Ausci Gaul was being asked to punish the german Goth girl cum flagrum. He had been almost drooling in anticipation.
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"He had been almost drooling in anticipation ..." - As indeed are we all!
 
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