The Dancing Dove of Judaea

[Blue]

The rattling sound of chains being closed around delicate wrists and ankles served to confirm what Livina already knew- there would be no mercy for this piteous slave now, or ever again.
The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part eleven

The second slave’s whipping began slowly, as if to allow the condemned time to beg for mercy and recover just a bit between lashes. It also created a sense of anticipation in the onlookers, or dread for the condemned, of when the next lash would strike. Livina found the anticipation equally or, perhaps, even more erotic than the actual punishment of the condemned. Nipples rock-hard, pussy juices freely flowing, Livina could hardly wait to begin her contribution to the debauchery of the evening.

Around the tenth lash the Prefect’s wife checked in on Livina. “Excellent, it looks like you are ready and... my oh my... you are as beautiful as your reputation says you are.” Livina bowed her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.

“Remember, dear, you are to give your best show to my beloved: he deserves the entirety of your repertoire and complete submission of your body. Don’t fear for your safety as he’s not as virile as he once was, but he will surely rally as much as he can for a beauty such as you!” Livina again bowed her head in acknowledgment, wishing the wife would shut-the-fuck-up so she could get out there and dance off the enormous pent-up sexual energy she felt.

A guard interrupted their conversation: “Madam Prefect, we just served lash number 22.”

“Ahhhhhhhhh........!!!!!!!”

“Err...23....” “It is time for the dancer to get in place”

“Thank you, you are relieved of duty: I want my husband to enjoy our guest in private.”

“As you wish, Madam Prefect.”

“Hmmmm... a charming young centurion, don’t you think so?” The Prefect’s wife nearly purred while saying it. Livina thought it odd but quickly forced it from her mind. She had a dance to perform, a man to please and a sexual fire raging inside her. “I will see you after your performance” said the Prefect’s wife, stepping aside and motioning Livina to enter.

Livina’s feet slid across the floor the few steps it took to enter the room. Immediately to her right was the first slave. She was hanging limply by the wrists and sobbing quietly, her back and ass covered in glistening red welts from her punishment.

Across the room and to her left were both the lictor and the second slave, also hanging by the wrists. It appeared the lictor was holding a flagurum instead of the bullwhip she had seen previously, which accounted for the rather grim damage to the second slave’s back. In between them, and forming an equilateral triangle of sorts was the Prefect. The very flower of Roman nobility reclining on a half-dozen pillows enjoying his birthday party. He was a stocky, largely unattractive man with greasy grey hair brushed over a significant bald spot. He saw Livina and clapped his hands like a young school boy, giddy in anticipation of what was to come.

The whipping had stopped for a moment in order for the lictor to turn the condemned around so as to expose her tits, tummy and sex to the flagurum. It was obvious she was on her way to dying well before the fiftieth lash, though her agony would surely be prolonged as possible.

And with that, Livina started her dance of erotic entertainment for the Roman Prefect of Judaea while a mere 10 steps away from her the very life was being whipped out of an innocent young woman.

 

[Blue]

And with that, Livina started her dance of erotic entertainment for the Roman Prefect of Judaea while a mere 10 steps away from her the very life was being whipped out of an innocent young woman.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part twelve

The dance began slowly. With no musicians to accompany her Livina began to sing for herself while the second slave sang her own plaintive song of suffering as lash number 26 found her tits.

The lictor took his cues from Livina’s motions, thereby prolonging the life, and utter agony, of the condemned. Arms gently swaying, hips gradually increasing tempo, hair billowing behind her she was quickly able to drown out the cries of the condemned slave and loose herself in her dance: feeling the enormous sexual power she was radiating, feeling her body burn with passion and desire.

She locked eyes with the Prefect. By this time in her life she could size up a man with one glance in her heightened state of arousal. She looked inside him while languidly moving her hips and saw.... nothing... not a damn thing. He was obviously some son of a wealthy so-and-so and rose to his position through pure nepotism. How he attracted a fine lay such as his wife, particularly in his paunchy condition, was beyond her desire to comprehend.

Livina tossed off her skirt and removed her veil: the Prefect literally squealed! Gods... what an idiot, she thought... the linked coins of her belt barely covered her prize: revealing it ever so sublimely depending on her motions. The jingling of the coins only added to the macabre sonic mix of Livina’s song and the screaming of the condemned.

The prefect reached into his tunic and pulled out his semi-flaccid cock. It seemed average enough in size and she figured she could make quick work out of him and end this evening quickly. She swayed over to him, turned around and shock her ass seductively before returning to the center of the floor. She heard two quick lashes of the flagurum then was shocked by what she didn’t hear: instead of crying for help or mercy the slave seemed to be moaning in some state of arousal.

Livina was back in the center of the floor working her routine to a medium boil. She moved her arms quickly above her head, locked fingers and slowly brought her hands down behind her back putting her magnificent tits, barely covered with the linked coin top, on full display. She danced around a little circle like this for a few moments as the lictor paused as well. The condemned slave was moaning more loudly now, almost as if she was regaining strength.

Locking eyes with the Prefect, she moved towards him hands still behind her back. She stopped just in front of him and stared without blinking. Suddenly, she bent over and seductively kissed his cock on the tip, then slowly ran down to its base with her tongue.

A lash rang out, followed quickly by another just as Livina disengaged from his dick. The slave whimpered on the first blow then moaned loudly on the second. Livina took 3 steps back away from the Prefect, lifted her arms up high, twirled around 360 degrees and came at the Prefect once again bending over his cock but this time deepthroating him.

A lash rang rang out, the condemned slave shrieked and Livina slowly pulled her mouth all the back towards the tip of his cock, slurping the juices created by her suction. She went towards the base again and heard the lash: the condemned slave and the Prefect both moaned. She slowly pulled her head up again then bobbed her head twice on the Prefect’s cock; each movement accompanied by the sound of the lash and the condemned slave’s half-cries/half-moans.

Sensing the lictor’s attention to her motions Livina stepped away from the Prefect and back towards the center of her makeshift stage. Her arms seemed to float up and down effortlessly in the air while her hips wiggled back and forth, slowly at first then gradually picking up speed. She suddenly thrust her hips forward while sliding her head backwards: a lash rang out and the condemned slave moaned loudly. She snapped herself back to a neutral position and spun around once, then repeated her arched back display but this time with her hands fondly her tits through the linked-coin top. The lictor responded with two rapid strokes, then paused, then a third stroke.

The condemned slave’s body quivered uncontrollably and she let out a long, languid moan. Livina was in the midst of a spin when she saw the slave’s eyes open for the first time. As she rotated around again Livina discreetly look at the tortured soul of a person chained to a pole and moments away from death. Their eyes met and, for what seemed like an eternity but was really only a moment, they stared at each other. Unbelievably, the slave smiled. Smiled at Livina. Smiled at her dance. Smiled at her song. Smiled at her outfit. Smiled into Livina’s very soul!

 

[Whippingginga]

And with that, Livina started her dance of erotic entertainment for the Roman Prefect of Judaea while a mere 10 steps away from her the very life was being whipped out of an innocent young woman.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part twelve

The dance began slowly. With no musicians to accompany her Livina began to sing for herself while the second slave sang her own plaintive song of suffering as lash number 26 found her tits.

The lictor took his cues from Livina’s motions, thereby prolonging the life, and utter agony, of the condemned. Arms gently swaying, hips gradually increasing tempo, hair billowing behind her she was quickly able to drown out the cries of the condemned slave and loose herself in her dance: feeling the enormous sexual power she was radiating, feeling her body burn with passion and desire.

She locked eyes with the Prefect. By this time in her life she could size up a man with one glance in her heightened state of arousal. She looked inside him while languidly moving her hips and saw.... nothing... not a damn thing. He was obviously some son of a wealthy so-and-so and rose to his position through pure nepotism. How he attracted a fine lay such as his wife, particularly in his paunchy condition, was beyond her desire to comprehend.

Livina tossed off her skirt and removed her veil: the Prefect literally squealed! Gods... what an idiot, she thought... the linked coins of her belt barely covered her prize: revealing it ever so sublimely depending on her motions. The jingling of the coins only added to the macabre sonic mix of Livina’s song and the screaming of the condemned.

The prefect reached into his tunic and pulled out his semi-flaccid cock. It seemed average enough in size and she figured she could make quick work out of him and end this evening quickly. She swayed over to him, turned around and shock her ass seductively before returning to the center of the floor. She heard two quick lashes of the flagurum then was shocked by what she didn’t hear: instead of crying for help or mercy the slave seemed to be moaning in some state of arousal.

Livina was back in the center of the floor working her routine to a medium boil. She moved her arms quickly above her head, locked fingers and slowly brought her hands down behind her back putting her magnificent tits, barely covered with the linked coin top, on full display. She danced around a little circle like this for a few moments as the lictor paused as well. The condemned slave was moaning more loudly now, almost as if she was regaining strength.

Locking eyes with the Prefect, she moved towards him hands still behind her back. She stopped just in front of him and stared without blinking. Suddenly, she bent over and seductively kissed his cock on the tip, then slowly ran down to its base with her tongue.

A lash rang out, followed quickly by another just as Livina disengaged from his dick. The slave whimpered on the first blow then moaned loudly on the second. Livina took 3 steps back away from the Prefect, lifted her arms up high, twirled around 360 degrees and came at the Prefect once again bending over his cock but this time deepthroating him.

A lash rang rang out, the condemned slave shrieked and Livina slowly pulled her mouth all the back towards the tip of his cock, slurping the juices created by her suction. She went towards the base again and heard the lash: the condemned slave and the Prefect both moaned. She slowly pulled her head up again then bobbed her head twice on the Prefect’s cock; each movement accompanied by the sound of the lash and the condemned slave’s half-cries/half-moans.

Sensing the lictor’s attention to her motions Livina stepped away from the Prefect and back towards the center of her makeshift stage. Her arms seemed to float up and down effortlessly in the air while her hips wiggled back and forth, slowly at first then gradually picking up speed. She suddenly thrust her hips forward while sliding her head backwards: a lash rang out and the condemned slave moaned loudly. She snapped herself back to a neutral position and spun around once, then repeated her arched back display but this time with her hands fondly her tits through the linked-coin top. The lictor responded with two rapid strokes, then paused, then a third stroke.

The condemned slave’s body quivered uncontrollably and she let out a long, languid moan. Livina was in the midst of a spin when she saw the slave’s eyes open for the first time. As she rotated around again Livina discreetly look at the tortured soul of a person chained to a pole and moments away from death. Their eyes met and, for what seemed like an eternity but was really only a moment, they stared at each other. Unbelievably, the slave smiled. Smiled at Livina. Smiled at her dance. Smiled at her song. Smiled at her outfit. Smiled into Livina’s very soul!

Wow!

 

[Blue]

Curious about something and looking for feedback.

Part 17 of Dancing Dove was finished last night and I still have more to write...

Livina has gotten in my head and I feel her becoming more and more alive rather than remaining as a purely fictional character. I’ve been reading the juan1234 compilation and really admire the unresolved endings in his work often leaving out “the usual stuff found in many places here on the forum.” There’s a part of me that wants to end the story at this point and let the reader’s imagination carry the load

But I feel the character needs to go through that process in her own, hopefully, unique way. Reading it all the way through part 17: it just doesn’t feel right to leave it where it is.

My question is timing: do I continue grinding ahead given my connection to the character or would it be best to step back, take a break and reassess her journey thus far before continuing?

I know the answer is ultimately mine to decide it I’m curious to hear what other writers think. Thanks in advance-Blue

 

[Davec5299]

My question is timing: do I continue grinding ahead given my connection to the character or would it be best to step back, take a break and reassess her journey thus far before continuing?

My opinion is that if you have already written through to part 17, please continue and post the remaining parts. I'm really enjoying the story and want to see how you progress it. It's quite difficult to think up original (and plausible) plots with so many great stories already written and I'm intrigued as to how yours will pan out.

Besides, I like the style of your writing, giving lots of detail where appropriate while leaving some interesting elements to the reader's imagination. Good stuff!

 

[nicole]

My opinion is that if you have already written through to part 17, please continue and post the remaining parts. I'm really enjoying the story and want to see how you progress it. It's quite difficult to think up original (and plausible) plots with so many great stories already written and I'm intrigued as to how yours will pan out.

Besides, I like the style of your writing, giving lots of detail where appropriate while leaving some interesting elements to the reader's imagination. Good stuff!

I agree with Davec5299, we must continue the story.

 

[Blue]

The condemned slave’s body quivered uncontrollably and she let out a long, languid moan. Livina was in the midst of a spin when she saw the slave’s eyes open for the first time. As she rotated around again Livina discreetly look at the tortured soul of a person chained to a pole and moments away from death. Their eyes met and, for what seemed like an eternity but was really only a moment, they stared at each other. Unbelievably, the slave smiled. Smiled at Livina. Smiled at her dance. Smiled at her song. Smiled at her outfit. Smiled into Livina’s very soul!

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part thirteen

Livina couldn’t acknowledge the condemned slave’s smile, nor did she want to. She thrust her hands behind her head and started shaking her hips side-to-side then front to back in a grinding motion. She lowered her hands to the sides her tits and pressed them together, slipping her hands beneath the linked coin top and then lifting it over her head. Her magnificent tits were now free and exposed, bouncing along with her every step.

Livina was on fire from the depths of her being: a supercharged woman of lust and desire. Her dance moves became more erotic as the lictor began to whip the very soul out of the condemned slave. Livina grabbed her nipples and pulled them roughly, taking a quick glance at the condemned slave. She was gone now, mouth gaping open in an eternal scream and eyes open but with a vacant death-stare: her pretty face a grim contrast to her wretched and ruined body.

“Lord Prefect, I believe the slave is dead” intoned the lector, dryly.

“Are you sure? She could be faking it.”

“She breaths no more and when I strike her she neither moves nor cries out. She is most certainly dead.”

“Very well, leave her here but take the other one to a cell and, you might enjoy the opportunity of playing with her yourself for a while. Leave me alone with my entertainment for the evening.”

The lictor unshackled the wounded slave-thief, picked her up and threw her over his massive left shoulder. She offered only token resistance weakly flailing her arms and legs; he easily carried her out the room.

“Well, well, alone at last, aren’t we?” The Prefect sat up on his collection of pillows and stroked his cock lightly. “My wife told it would be a special birthday for me, she is a woman of her word as you, my beautiful dancer, are proof. Please, continue.”

Livina glanced at the dead slave for a moment: finally at peace and free from her master. The image of the crucified daughter from a year ago crept into her mind as well. She had now watched two people die in horrific fashion yet they both went out in a state of sexual bliss....How on earth could that be?

She was facing the Prefect, clad only in her linked-coin belt. She began humming her tune and moved her arm out in front of her, nearly fully extended. Her delicate wrists floated in nearly the opposite direction of her arms, fingers stretching then contracting. She brought her arms close and, with her supple wrists, grazed each cheek with the back of her fingers, first one, then the other.

Her arms floated downwards just a bit and her wrists guided her fingers over the sides of her tits, then gradually flicking them over her rock-hard nipples.

The Prefect squealed again like a child... clutching his cock with one hand and drinking from a golden goblet with the other. His sloppy tunic a disheveled mess and loosely hanging off one shoulder.

Livina moved her hands to her hips and began moving them in a circular motion, gradually spreading her legs further and further apart to accentuate the movement of her core. Stomach muscles undulating relentlessly, she suddenly threw her arms up; simultaneously throwing her head backwards and made her tits bounce wildly on her sweaty chest.

The Prefect squealed again, but somehow different this time, a bit strained.... His tunic fell off completely and his pale body was there for her to see. Yes, at one time this body may have possessed some degree of strength and virility but that time was obviously passed. Even with hardly moving at all he seemed to be somewhat short of breath and a bit ashen in the face.

All of which was too bad as Livina, driven wild by the whippings that accompanied her performance and the dying orgasm of the second slave, was giving the performance of her lifetime: all wasted on this sad excuse for a man.

She moved in close, stretching her arms until her delicate wrists were on his shoulders and her fingers spread out on his back. She was breathing heavy from the dance; he was just plain breathing heavy, probably from the wine he was drinking and all the excitement, she thought to herself.

Staring him in the eyes she took her right hand off his back and traced her way down his chest to his cock. As she began stroking it his eyes became glassy and his knees weakened. He guided himself back down to his pillows and seemed to regain some strength, grabbing her by the throat and saying “Take off that damnable belt, get on top of me, spread your legs and ride my cock you filthy whore!”

Livina slipped her thumbs in the waistband of her belt, searching for the clasp while locking eyes with the Prefect. Quickly, she found her quarry and the belt slid all the way to the floor, landing in a bunch around her ankles. She stepped out of the belt and put her left leg on the other side of the reclining Prefect.

She elevated herself on her knees and was now straddling him. She reached down between her legs and stroked his cock. “Oooooohhhhhh.....” moaned the prefect before having a brief coughing spasm. Something about the Prefect’s face didn’t look right but the Prefect’s wife specifically asked for a intense experience and even reassured Livina that he would rally.

“Shall I impale myself on your lovely, massive cock Lord Prefect? Would you like to feel my tight pussy sliding up and down your thick shaft as you roughly grab my tits?” Livina rarely spoke with her ‘partners’ but she had orders to go all the way with this one. She grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down her sweet sex, dripping with arousal. Though she found the Prefect wholly unattractive and uninspiring the smiling images of the dead whipped slave and the crucified daughter were vividly in her imagination and driving her wild with lust and desire.

With one quick motion she sank her pussy down to the base of his shaft and immediately started grinding her hips trying to massage her clit on one of the excess folds of his stomach. The Prefect let out a brief little yelp and then seemed to freeze in time, his body trembling. Livina reached out and grabbed both his hands, putting them directly on her tits. Instantly the Prefect grabbed them, hard. Very hard. So hard that Livina began to believe what the wife said about him: that he was once a strong and virile man and could channel that energy if motivated sufficiently.

Livina put her hands behind her head and presented her tits to the Prefect. Eyes closed, long legs, hair tossing behind her head and body moving quickly up and down; she was truly a bitch in heat and lost in her sexual fantasy world, even with the Prefect squeezing her tits so hard he seemed to be trying to rip them off her chest.

Suddenly, the Prefect let out a hissing, guttural sound and his hands limply slid off her tits and on to the pillows. Eyes still closed, she continued humping him like this for a while waiting to feel his seed come sliding down her thighs.

It never came.

Fearing something might be wrong, Livina stopped humping the Prefect and opened her eyes. The Prefect’s eyes and mouth were gaping open and his face was completely ashen. There was no rise and fall to his chest to indicate he was breathing and no resistance in his limbs when she tried to move them.

The Roman Prefect of Judaea was dead. Dead of a heart attack while being entertained by a dancing whore sent by an Arab sheikh.

“Noooooooo....!!!!!” Livina screamed. “Noooooooo.... Help!!!! Help!!! The Prefect neither moves nor breathes...Help us, please help us!!!”

 

[Wragg]

The Prefect neither moves nor breathes...Help us, please help us!!!”

Oooh dear.... that sounds like trouble...

 

[Blue]

The Roman Prefect of Judaea was dead. Dead of a heart attack while being entertained by a dancing whore sent by an Arab sheikh.

“Noooooooo....!!!!!” Livina screamed. “Noooooooo.... Help!!!! Help!!! The Prefect neither moves nor breathes...Help us, please help us!!!”

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part fourteen

Almost as if she was expecting this to happen and waiting for the proper cue the Prefect’s wife came rushing in asking what was wrong? “My husband, Lord Prefect, what is going on? Why is our guest shouting so? Speak to me, my love, my rock.”

Livina pointed to the pile of pillows: the Prefect’s naked and lifeless body splayed on top. She was crying now, standing there naked as all sorts of attendants, guards and slaves came rushing in the room. “I do not know what happened, one moment he was enjoying my body and the next he was gone...took a deep breath and the life just went out of him...”

The Prefect’s wife was now cradling her husband’s head in her lap, gently stroking his forehead. “My Husband, my beloved: time to wake up from your sleep, you’ve given us quite the scare. Time to rise and resume your celebration!” She continued to minister to the Prefect but gradually slowed down her strokes: gazing at her spouse.

Livina stared at the two of them: husband and wife in a final embrace. She was close to them, standing there trying to cover her breasts with one hand and her pubic mound with another. The room was silent, not wanting to disturb the tender final moments between the couple: every one stood behind them except Livina who was frozen in place out of respect for the dead Prefect.

It was in that moment that Livina could see the outline of a wicked smile come over the wife’s face. She could also see a white glob of something sticky on the wife’s check; she even made a grand gesture of wiping it off her face but so as to seem as if she was wiping away a tear.

Livina had been acting nearly her entire life and she now realized she was in the presence of another actress, a suddenly very powerful and now wealthy actress. A pit formed in Livina’s stomach. She knew what was coming.

 

[Blue]

Oooh dear.... that sounds like trouble...

@Wragg Trouble is most definitely on the horizon..!

 

[Blue]

Livina had been acting nearly her entire life and she now realized she was in the presence of another actress, a suddenly very powerful and now wealthy actress. A pit formed in Livina’s stomach. She knew what was coming.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part fifteen

Suddenly, the wife’s body language changed and Livina could see a scowl appear on her face. “You. You......” The wife slowly rose and began turning towards Livina. “You filthy slut whore from this cursed land! You!!!!! You did this to him! You killed my love! You killed my husband! You killed the Roman Prefect of Judaea you filthy bitch!”

The wife lunged at Livina and the two traded quick blows to the face before centurions separated the two: one holding Livina in place and the other releasing the wife who was now trying to recover from being smacked in the jaw. “You dirty whore! You killed the Prefect with your filthy dance and slutty entertainment. Murderess!!! Did your treasonous sheikh put you up to this? Did he tell you to murder my husband or was that your own idea, you filthy murdering whore???!!!!!”

“Lies! All lies!” Livina tried to respond, shouting. “YOU asked my sheikh if I would come here. YOU asked me to entertain your husband with ‘my best show to your beloved, did you not? YOU told me he deserved the entirety of my repertoire and complete submission of my body, did you not? YOU told me not to fear for my safety as he’s not as virile as he once was, but he will surely rally, did you not say all those things?” Livina was nearly out of breath for how hard she was shouting.

The Prefect’s wife took three steps towards Livina and slapped her face, hard. “You do not talk to me like that you murdering filthy slut. You are a lying whore. A dirty murdering, lying little whore.” She slapped Livina again. “I said none of those things. Yes, I requested you to dance tonight for my beloved’s birthday. However I gave you strict instructions to go easy in your work as the Prefect is known to be having heart troubles. I specifically told you to give him just a tease, a very slight tease: that would be enough excitement for him as I would then take care of his arousal later.”

The wife was shouting, hands on hips and pacing around the room. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“No!”

“Didn’t you!!!!???” She stopped in place at pointed at Livina, who was now starting to struggle out of the iron grip of the centurion.

“No! I am innocent!!!” Shouted Livina.

“You and that grotesque sheikh, you planned this as an attack on Rome. You planned this, this assault on Rome through my husband, to consolidate power in your savage little fiefdom.”

“No! No! Lies, all lies. I care not for power or wealth.”

“Filthy slut murderess!”

“I merely did exactly what you asked, what you asked of my master and what you asked of me.” Livina was really struggling against the centurion now, her sweaty breasts bounced up and down and side to side as she fought to free herself from his grasp. “Let me go, let me go, LET ME GOOOOOO...! I have done nothing wrong, only exactly what you asked of me....!

“Silence, whore!” The wife stared directly into Livina’s eyes. Livina stared back and saw only blackness, devoid of color and emotion. The Prefect’s wife was playing a role all right, and was doing a very good job of it! She had all the power, she had the pristine reputation, she had a captive audience largely beholden to her in one way or another and, most importantly, she had the Roman legal system on her side. Who would believe the word of a naked-slut-harem dancer over the word of a grieving wife of a Roman Prefect?

After pacing around in a small circle for a few moments the wife turned to the lead centurion: “Go now, to the sheikh’s compound. Arrest all his guards and offer them a place in my detail. If they decline kill them on the spot. Bring me all the slaves and harem girls: we will see what use we can get out of them in the coming days. We can keep or sell as many as we see fit.”

Continuing to pace she again she said out loud to both everyone at once and also at Livina in particular: “I want the sheikh’s head delivered to me on a platter before 08:00 am. Make sure he suffers before losing his head; I want to hear he begged for the mercy of the blade.”

The room was silent. Livina knew her fate was sealed as soon as this act began. She had been set up, the sheikh as well. His infinite greed and thirst for power ended his life, though he had yet to find out. Livina was also going to pay for the price of his vanity with her own life. She stopped struggling now, even more firmly held by the centurion. Head still high, she waited for the ‘actress’ to speak out loud what she had, seemingly, been planning for days.

“And what about this one Lady Prefect?” Asked the centurion while pointing to Livina. “Are we selling her with the others?”

“This one...” The wife’s voice slowly trailed off. She stared at Livina, paused for what seemed like an eternity and took two steps towards her, standing right in Livina’s face and scowling: “I want the famous ‘Dancing Dove-Slut-Whore of Judea’ squirming her life away on a cross before mid day. Let her know the agony, humiliation and perfect torture of crucifixion firsthand.” Their eyes locked but only Livina’s showed signs of tears.

The centurion broke the silence: “Ummmm, errrrrr.... Preceded by a whipping, Madam Prefect?”

“Yes, of course. There’s always time for a good whipping... always!” She smirked, adding “I will personally oversee it.”

 

[Blue]

The centurion broke the silence: “Ummmm, errrrrr.... Preceded by a whipping, Madam Prefect?”

“Yes, of course. There’s always time for a good whipping... always!” She smirked, adding “I will personally oversee it.”

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part sixteen

“Take her away and put her in the locked cell. You are not to mark her or violate her in any way: I want her to look her best chained to the whipping post then nailed to the cross... Go! Oh: and give her a loincloth and peplos so we can strip her before the crowd!”

Livina did not resist, nor could she as a second centurion had her in his grasp. Half-pushing/half walking they brought her to her cell: the last place she could move about before becoming one with her wicked wooden bed of suffering and death. Before the door clanged shut a slave appeared and threw the clothing requested by the Prefect’s wife at Livina. The door slammed shut and Livina was alone, illuminated only by the single torchlight on the other side of the iron bars.

The cell was fairly large, probably used to hold more prisoners captured in a military victory, she assumed. There was a windowless stone wall in the back with the other 3 sides made of iron bars. Straw covered the ground and there were 2 buckets in the corner: one empty so she could relieve herself and one with water and a rag so she could clean herself for her final “performance,” or so she assumed.

It all happened so fast... but now the gravity of her situation began sinking in. In a few short hours she would be publicly stripped, whipped and crucified - condemned to the horrific death of a slave, a slow, agonizing death that will take both her body and spirit. Livina was overcome with emotions and began sobbing, softly at first then gradually more loudly. She curled up in a ball, ignoring the clothing she was offered and openly wept, her body trembling in fear of what was to come.

As she grieved her situation images of her past came flooding in: the sheikh and her sisters of the harem were first as they were the most recent and with whom she had spent the majority of her life. She wondered if the Romans had taken them yet, or if they were still sleeping unaware their fate had already been decided. Though he used her terribly and was, in fact, her owner she still had feelings for him as he never abused her and, in an unusual way, treated her well.

She thought back to her original family, vague memories of innocent childhood playing with siblings and parents. She was never afforded the opportunity to grieve her separation from them: she did so now. These memories calmed her a little and gave her some distraction from the coming storm.

Other visions crept in as well. Visions of the countless women she had seen whipped to death and crucified. She saw her mentor in the harem whipped then lose her head; she saw the mother and daughter thieves crucified, on her command! She saw the blasphemous slave brutally whipped to death. To think she was about to join them in agony and shame... be made a spectacle of for the amusement of others while suffering the most fiendish punishment imaginable.... to think this was her fate, her destiny, her duty to die miserably on the cross...

The sound of a distant rodent broke her from her trance. She hadn’t even realized it but as she recalled the tortures she had witnessed one of her hands had wandered between her lags and was lightly rubbing her sex. She always had a sexual response to the harsh punishment of others and even now, when it was her turn to feel the pain, the thought of the whip thrashing her smooth skin and the nails piercing her wrists and feet turned her on: perhaps even more so as it was actually going to happen to her!

She imagined the whip: she was convinced they would use the bull whip instead of the flagurum so as to prolong her agony on the cross. She imagined herself chained to the whipping post, arms high above her head forcing her to stand on the tips of her toes. She imagined the breathless anticipation and dread of the first lash as the lictor sized her up. She had heard from others the whip stung at first then burned with more and more intensity as the lashes mounted. She pictured her back crisscrossed with welts, her tits equally treated and nipples hard but sore from the pain.

She masturbated furiously now and brought herself to a nice, gentle orgasm. She sat there for precious moments basking in the glow of her release. Then her mind turned towards her imminent crucifixion; the thought of which simultaneously horrified and excited Livina.

She looked down at her right hand and moved it gracefully through the air, her delicate wrist moving the palm and fingers up and down as if they were all feathers falling gently in the breeze. Soon that wrist will be grotesquely punctured by an iron spike and her bloodied hand frozen like a claw, forever attached to the rough wood of her cross.

She looked down at her feet, rubbing them, feeling their softness and strength. She wondered how they would be nailed tomorrow: on opposite sides of the stipes with the nail through the heels? One foot on top of the other with a single nail? Side-by-side on the front of the stipes?

She wondered how it would feel to be raised up, nailed to the wood that would hold her in its death grip for days until her body expired. Hanging there, naked, exposed, completely vulnerable and humiliated.

She reached for the peplos. Rather than put it on she spread it out on the floor so she could lay on it instead of the rough straw. As she lay there she stretched her arms out on either side, just like they will do tomorrow. She imagined two big, strong men holding her arms in place while a third straddles her tummy so as to immobilize her. She imagined feeling the point of the nail in her right wrist probing for the perfect spot.. she imagined the lifting of the hammer followed by the swift crash downwards. She knew it would hurt, but how much? She tried different positions for her feet: legs slightly bent for a beautiful stretched look or legs severely bent with feet just below her ass, causing her to hang from the wrists in tremendous pain.

All this made her pussy wet again and reinvigorated her aching nipples. Again, she brought herself to orgasm, this time more intense, as she pinched her nipple hard with one hand and shoved two fingers in and out of her sopping-wet cunt with the other, all the while wickedly fantasizing about how she would be put to death.

As her body began to come down from its sexual heights another feeling came over her: the need to dance!

 

[Blue]

As her body began to come down from its sexual heights another feeling came over her: the need to dance!

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part seventeen

She rose from the floor and stood up straight. Tall and proud: she pictured a loud audience in hushed silence, breathlessly waiting for her to begin.

She lifted one arm above her head, then the other. Her sensuous motions made them appear to float in space, hands and fingers delicately turning....

She began to move her hips and turn around and around, pausing to wiggle her tummy every once in a while. She quickly forgot all that was around her, becoming one with her body. It felt as if she wasn’t even controlling it anymore: it moved of it’s own volition and she was merely a spectator to its will. She was lost in her dancing in the most beautiful way imaginable and gave in to it, wholly, completely.

The more she danced the more she felt free. Free from the shackles of her existence as a harem girl... Free from the irrelevant cast of characters the sheikh whored her out to.. Free from the sheikh himself and his both unwanted and lazy touch that never pleased her... Free from her insipid sisters in the harem and their jealous actions as she danced for the sheikh while he punished them. Free from the Romans and their incessant trail of lies, deceptions and abject cruelty. Yes she had to pay with her life for this freedom but it would be worth it knowing she would never be used again.

She was exhausted from her feverish and intense dance. Finally, she felt empowered to sleep; the last true sleep she would ever get as a human being.

The sound of her iron door creaking open awakened Livina some hours later. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she could make out the Prefect’s wife. “Ahhh... she rises, the ‘Dancing Dove’... sleep well, did you?” The wife’s words were drenched in sarcasm. “Are you ready to dance under the whip and on your cross? Are you ready to beg for my mercy you filthy whore slut?” The Prefect’s wife spoke with well-rehearsed disdain... Livina would find her overacting comical if it wasn’t so deadly serious for her.

“Oh!” The wife continued: “I nearly forgot...there’s a visitor for you today.” Reaching behind her back the Prefect’s wife presented Livina the sheikh’s severed head, its eyes popped out and hair matted in blood. She threw it at Livina’s feet, laughing.

Livina’s long journey to death had just begun.

 

[Jackie1111]

“I do not know what happened, one moment he was enjoying my body and the next he was gone...."

How unfortunate!

I can confirm that this is an occasional occupational hazard for us beautiful dancing whores. Sometimes our sexual power proves to be too much for a man.

 

[Blue]

How unfortunate!

I can confirm that this is an occasional occupational hazard for us beautiful dancing whores. Sometimes our sexual power proves to be too much for a man.

Ouch! Sorry to hear this.... sounds like a defibrillator should be part of every erotic dancer’s tool kit!

 

[Blue]

Oh!” The wife continued: “I nearly forgot...there’s a visitor for you today.” Reaching behind her back the Prefect’s wife presented Livina the sheikh’s severed head, its eyes popped out and hair matted in blood. She threw it at Livina’s feet, laughing.

Livina’s long journey to death had just begun.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part eighteen

Livina recoiled at the sight of her former master’s disembodied head come rolling towards her. She stared at it for some moments trying to see if it was really her former master: it was too disfigured to be certain.

“He asked for you in his final moments, and claimed he truly loved you and regretted whoring you out for his personal benefit... such a shame he lost his head before he could rape-fuck you one last time!” The wife chuckled and motioned 3 centurions to enter the cell. One centurion had a flagurum, one had a bullwhip and wooden plaque; the final centurion had iron shackles.

“We’ve assembled quite an audience for your performance this morning and for the next few days...” A shiver ran down Livina’s spine at the thought of her lengthy execution. “All of the sheik’s harem sluts will be there, as will his slaves. Even some of the guards, the smart ones at least, will watch your punishment for murdering my beloved husband.”

“Beloved husband...?” Livina shot back. “You mean the man you used me to kill so you could assume his wealth? That beloved husband? Or, perhaps, that good looking centurion you mentioned yesterday? You remember: the centurion you were on your knees in front of, sucking his cock and swallowing most of his cum but leaving some on your cheek, just before you rushed into the the room? Do you mean that beloved... can’t say husband... perhaps stud for a lying bitch in heat?”

Livina stood defiantly, scrutinizing every move of the wife, who in her turn was unfazed by Livina’s accusation. The wife motioned the centurions towards Livina: two stood on opposite sides of her and grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back. The third centurion shackled her hands together and the used longer shackles for her ankles. Livina braced herself for the inevitable rape she knew was coming.

The wife approached Livina and stood face to face with her captive. She raised a hand and Livina braced herself for a slap in the face or punch in the gut from the wife. Instead, the wife’s hand gently caressed Livina’s forehead and ran her fingers through her hair: stopping at the shoulder only to rise again and trace Livina’s right check with the back of her hand.

The wife spoke softly: “You can make up as many scenarios as you like while you squirm on your cross, Livina. It will surely help you pass the time as the life slowly ebbs from your body but the agony of the nails remains constant.” She was now caressing Livina’s face with both hands, her gentle touch catching Livina off guard.

They locked eyes: even in the relative darkness of the cell there was no mistaking the exotic green eyes of the Prefect’s wife. The look between the two women quickly progressed from antagonistic to something else... not sympathy; not respect; not neediness; perhaps hunger or desire?

The wife spoke even more softly: “We both know I am going to execute you in a little while... but such a waste as you are a truly beautiful woman! In some ways, I envy your fate, your destiny, your suffering...” her hands found Livina’s tits and stroked them lightly, brushing over her erect nipples. Livina’s body trembled slightly.

Speaking now in hushed tones and continuing to stare deeply into Livina’s eyes: “Are you ready to be stripped in front of a crowd rooting for your punishment and death? Are you ready for the kiss of the flagurum on your soft back, ass and legs? The sting of the bullwhip on these beautiful tits? The bite of the nails in your wrists and ankles as you are raised on your throne of unimaginable agony and endless suffering?”

Livina was caught up in the moment: completely immobilized by the soft voice of the wife and her soft touch on Livina’s body. She could feel her nipples harden even more and her pussy becoming moist. An odd combination of arousal and shame enveloped her: how could she let her executioner turn her on so?!?

The wife leaned in close, her tongue finding Livina’s right ear, gently tracing the outside rim with occasional soft bites; her breath heavy on Livina’s neck. Her hands slowly wandered down Livina’s chest and tummy, one hand slowly massaging Livina’s clit while the other hand gently cupped her ass.

Livina was frozen: an insect caught in a spider’s web of passion. Body on fire and ashamedly so... she had execution fantasies when dancing before but this was not how she expected it. Her mind said no but her body didn’t agree, she listened to her body...

The wife whispered “Does my captive beauty want to cum before I slowly kill her?” She rubbed Livina’s clit faster.

Livina let out a soft moan.

“Mmmm... yes... Cum on my hands as I fantasize how beautiful you will look crying in exquisite pain bound to the whipping post as the flagurum rips open your back.” The wife ran her fingers up and down the folds of Livina’s pussy, then returned to her now-engorged clit.

“Ohhhh, gods....” Livina sighed, shocked at her sudden submission to the wife’s touch but unable, and perhaps, unwilling, to resist.

“That’s a good slut.... yes... you like what I’m doing to you now... don’t you? Just like you will secretly love screaming in pain as they pound the nails into you..body writhing in both agony and ecstasy..” The wife’s two fingers were pistoning in and out of Livina’s sopping wet cunt, the sounds of her excitement filling the room.

“It.. is..my...destiny....” Livina’s knees began to buckle. She could feel her release building up inside her.

“Mmmm, that’s it...let your body go...you are a such a slut...enjoying your executioner’s touch...remember this moment while you’re squirming and dancing on your cross... cum for me, cum for me Livina...cum for me nowwwwwwww....” The wife bent down and flicked her tongue over Livina’s nipple, continuing to fuck her with her fingers.

“OHHHHHHHHH....YYYYYYYEEESSSSS!!!! YESSSSSSSS.....” The intensity of her orgasm surprised Livina and her legs gave out, supported only by the grip of the two centurions. She was panting, breathing hard and completely reliant upon the centurions for support.

The wife took two steps back and let out a long, evil laugh. “I’d say she’s ready, hmmm? Get her dressed and out into the courtyard.” She turned and headed out the door, pausing for a moment to pick something up off the floor in the hallway.

“Yes, Madam Prefect” the lead centurion said. Turning to Livina he said: “Looks like you’ve got a lovely loincloth and peplos to wear for your execution; consider it a gift from the people of Rome.”

“Wait!” The wife exclaimed. “Have her put these on.” The wife returned and handed the centurion something that crushed Livina’s soul instantly: her veil, linked coin belt and her skirt: nearly her entire bedlah from the previous night. She cried out “Nooooo!!!!” as the guards removed the ankle shackles and forced the now-struggling dancer into her costume one last time.

Dancing had always been the one aspect of Livina’s life separate from the degradation of her general existence. She felt free while dancing. Even under the most horrific circumstances dancing was Livina’s escape from her miserable reality. To think that she would be executed in her dancing persona, rather than her slave persona, was a harsh reminder of her fate: her identity as a dancer was going to be executed along with her physical body. This was not part of the fantasy, this was not what she expected, this was not how she wanted to die...

 

[nicole]

brrrrr , I have chills imagining myself in her place

 

[Blue]

Brrrrr, I have chills imagining YOU imagining yourself in her place! (;

 

[Blue]

Dancing had always been the one aspect of Livina’s life separate from the degradation of her general existence. She felt free while dancing. Even under the most horrific circumstances dancing was Livina’s escape from her miserable reality. To think that she would be executed in her dancing persona, rather than her slave persona, was a harsh reminder of her fate: her identity as a dancer was going to be executed along with her physical body. This was not part of the fantasy, this was not what she expected, this was not how she wanted to die...

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part nineteen

Livina was tormented by the wife’s uncanny ability for cruelty. She was being put to death not as Livina the slave but as the Dancing Dove of Judaea: how could the wife know this was the one way to break her...?

The centurions had little trouble getting the struggling Livina into her bedlah. Her wrists were now shackled in front of her and the shackles around her ankles were adjusted to allow about two of Livina’s shoulder lengths apart for movement. Both sets of shackles were connected by a length of chain, making any walking motion very challenging. One centurion stood behind and lifted her up by her armpits while a second centurion lifted her up by her ankles: together they carried her like a sack of potatoes to the courtyard entrance, setting her down just outside the view of the spectators.

The Prefect’s wife was there waiting for her. “My, my, my.... don’t you look sooo nice in your bedlah and chains... Tell me: will it be difficult to perform your typical dance with those things attached to you? Will the extra weight slow you done at all? We wouldn’t want to spoil your final earth-bound dance now, would we?”

Livina was powerless to defend herself from the insults. She had just been humiliated by her submission to a sexual encounter with her executioner and now her most prized possession, her identity as The Dancing Dove of Judaea, was going to be murdered by the state for a crime she did not really commit; a crime which her executioner was guilty of!

The Perfect’s wife casually strode into the courtyard towards the center. She bellowed: ”Bring out the Dancing Whore-Slut Dove of Judaea.”

With centurions flanking her on either side she began to walk slowly out into the July sun, carefully stepping so as not to trip over her ankle shackles. Even chained as she was her hips gently swayed as she moved: the coins on her belt that once rattled the sounds of a joyful human expression now served as the prelude to impending doom. She emerged into the courtyard a vision of vulnerable beauty: as beautiful as she had ever been but, very soon, will never be again.

Looking to her right she saw the sheikh’s entire stable of harem girls looking forlorn and frightened. Each one with a collar around her neck and each one with wrists tied by heavy rope in front of them: they were all kneeling with legs spread.

Looking to her left Livina saw the the sheikh’s slaves bound and positioned as the harem girls were but looking more resigned than forlorn, as if they had already accepted whatever fate was to befall them. Both contingents of those formerly beholden to the sheikh were shocked to see their favored member bound and humbled so. Though there were, at times, resentments felt towards Livina all realized that she had a special talent and was worthy of special treatment. Seeing her in costume humiliated like this and facing certain death did not sit well with this group.

Between the gauntlet of former slaves and harem girls stood a single whipping post, perhaps 50 paces away. A large crowd had gathered around the post to watch Livinia’s punishment and they began cursing her and taunting her; calling her the ‘Chained Dove of Judaea’.

The Prefect’s wife quieted the crowd: “Condemned prisoner of Rome, formerly known as the Dancing Dove Slut-Whore of Judaea, you are sentenced to be put to death by crucifixion for the murder of my beloved husband: the very noble Roman Prefect of Judaea. Your crucifixion will be preceded by 39 lashes of the flagurum and bullwhip. Your execution begins now as you will make your way, on your own, to the whipping post.”

Livina just stood there, partly in defiance but also partly in a state of shock at her situation and surroundings. True, she had fantasized about being whipped, fantasized about being nailed and fantasized about being crucified but this scene was not at all what she imagined. She always thought she would be executed as a slave, as virtually all she saw executed were. She never mixed her death fantasy with her dancer persona and the reality of this gave her a pit in her stomach, immobilizing her in fear and regret.

“The condemned will begin her death-march immediately and assume her place at the post!!!!” The Prefect’s wife repeated with a threatening tone.

The shouting of the Prefect’s wife snapped Livina from her trance. Still, she did not move. She continued to survey the scene around her and compare it to scenes she had been a part of in the past. It did, after all, have a familiar look but her perspective had most certainly changed.

“Centurion: grab that first harem girl and tie her to the post. If our prisoner does not move on her own whip the girl until she’s dead, then get the next girl in line and do the same.”

A cry rose up from the harem girls, snapping Livina from her trance. She recognized the young girl Cassia, just turned 18, being dragged by 2 centurions to the post. Cassia was wailing, screaming “Noooo... Noooo... I have done nothing....” then quietly sob as her body was turned to face the post and her wrists were attached to the pole.

Livina was closest with Cassia, a relative newcomer to the harem the sheikh purchased from a passing caravan some months ago. She found Cassia to be a witty and clever character, and good company when she was not being whored out by the sheikh. Of course, thought Livina, the wife would pick the one member of the harem Livina would likely protect... she probably got the sheikh to divulge this information before he lost his head.

Livina shouted “Stop!!!” and began walking to the post, the ankle restraints limiting her step and making her journey a long and humiliating experience for one whose movement is typically so graceful.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea’s lengthy and horrible execution had officially begun.

 

[Blue]

Livina shouted “Stop!!!” and began walking to the post, the ankle restraints limiting her step and making her journey a long and humiliating experience for one whose movement is typically so graceful.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea’s lengthy and horrible execution had officially begun.

The Dancing Dove of Judaea
Part twenty

Livina’s progress was slow yet, at least she thought, steady; but apparently not steady enough for the lictor with the bullwhip. A brief pause by Livina was met with a sharp strike of the whip that landed exactly on her back. The blow shocked Livina as she didn’t even know the lictor trailed her; the catcalls of the onlookers drowning out the sound of the whip flying through the air. She shrieked at both the surprise of the strike and its inherent sting. “Move faster you condemned dancing whore or your young friend will receive 2 tastes of the flagrum for every 1 lash I give you of the bull!” The lictor made his point very clear and Cassia began pleading again for her release.

Livina had seen enough violence inflicted on innocent young women in her lifetime and was determined to not to see anymore if she could help it. She put her head down and carefully moved to her whipping post, now about 20 paces away. The iron shackles around her ankles dug into the tops of her feet and shins. Soon, these talented feet would know a pain exponentially more sharp but for now this hurt enough to slow her down... again without warning two lashes crisscrossed her back “uhhh... uhhh... “ she half-groaned and half cried, head bowed in shame.

CRACK! “Nooooo!!!” CRACK! “Nooooooooo!!!!!!” CRACK! “AHHHHHHHHHH.......” CRACK! “AYYYYYYYY.....NOOOOOOO....AHHHHHHH”

Livina didn’t need to lift her head to know those were Cassia’s screams at getting two lashes for every one given to Livina. When Livina finally did lift her head she saw the young woman resting her head against the post, openly sobbing and back bleeding. The taunting from the crowd of onlookers was right in Livina’s face now: “Good job getting your friend’s back ripped open” said one. “Come on Dove, dance for us in those shackles!” “Can’t wait to see your tits bounce as you squirm in agony on your cross!!!”

Livina did her best to ignore it all until an immature onlooker decided to take a swipe at stealing Livina’s veil. Livina stopped for just a moment to sneer at the would-be thief and was instantly punished with 2 more crisscrossing lashes from the bullwhip. Though she was at most 5 paces from the post the lictor made good on his promise: promptly giving Cassia 4 more wicked kisses of the flagrum.

Cassia’s cries were horrific: high-pitched, anguished wails with each strike. After the fourth strike, and the lictor stepping aside, Livina moved right up to her wounded harem sister. Livina softly spoke: “Cassia, I am so sorry.....” Cassia turned her head to look at Livina but did not speak: instead, her eyes rolled back into her head and her body went limp, passed out from the vicious flogging.

“No talking!” shouted the centurion as he loosened Cassia’s wrists and let her body unceremoniously sag to the ground. Grabbing the diminutive young woman by the armpits he flopped her around and dragged her back to the other harem girls, her heels digging two adjacent tracks in the dirt. Cassia seemed to still be breathing... at least, for now.

“Your turn” the centurion said to Livina, in a rather matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to first release the chain that connected her wrists to her ankles, and then freed her ankles from the restraints completely. He adjusted the height of the hook for the wrists to account for Livina’s taller frame than Cassia’s. He grabbed Livina’s wrist shackles and secured them to the now-taller hook, stretching her torso out fully so the lictor could do his work.

“Madam Prefect: the condemned prisoner is prepared for her punishment.”

“Very well, centurion, step aside.” The wife admired her captive prey: arms up high, long dark hair extending down her spine, bare back stretched and already wet with sweat from fear, ass jutting out and barely covered by her linked-coin belt and deep-blue skirt, and legs spread hoping to withstand the onslaught that was coming and keep her from collapsing. Livina looked beautiful.

The wife stepped right next to Livina, staring at her with her brilliant green eyes... Just as in the cell she lifted a hand to Livina’s face, stroking it gently before moving to the back of her head to untie Livina’s veil. The soft fabric fell off Livina’s face, onto her shoulders then brushed her left breast before landing at Livina’s feet.

The wife’s hands returned to Livina’s face, then up to her forehead, then ran her fingers several times through Livina’s dark brown hair. “Normally we would cut this to further your humiliation but I’m imagining how wonderful you will look hanging from your cross with your face down and head moving from side to side: you might even be able to massage your nipples with your hair! Can’t miss a moment like that.....no? Centurion- give me that length of leather I asked you to keep a while ago.”

The wife used the leather to tie up Livina’s hair and keep it away from the lash. She ran her hand up and down Livina’s now completely exposed back several times saying “Beautiful, so, so beautiful....enjoy your last caress before we begin your execution.”

With that the wife then turned to the crowd: “Fair Citizens and Guests of Rome, today we punish this slut-whore dancer for the murder of my beloved husband. Let her agony and suffering serve as an example of Roman Justice and the power of Rome.”

She stepped aside: “Begin her punishment!”

The Iictor stepped forward: “get ready, bitch! Time to lose your clothes...” He put his hand in the waist of her skirt and began tugging it down but was stopped by the voice of the Prefect’s wife.

“No! Stop! Don’t do that!” The wife shouted. “Keep the skirt on. I want you to tear it, and her back and her legs, to shreds with your whip... but avoid the belt, for now.”

Livina’s heart sank even further, if that was possible... her body and her dreams were about to be forever destroyed. She braced herself for the first blow, wondering where it would land.