It is the year 50 AD; Roman invaders had set up enclaves throughout the southern lands of Briton. They had met with fierce Pagan Kings who fought bitterly against them and also showed the same aggression toward their neighbouring counterparts.

 

One of these Kings was Alfred who had spawned two children, a boy and a girl. His son who was every bit as fierce as his father perished at the hands of the Romans in one of the bloodiest of battles ever to have raged on the south coast of Briton. The experienced Romans quickly took control of the southern lands, sacking villages and exterminating all resistance that stood in their way. Soon many of the communities found themselves devoid of their young men who had perished at Roman hands.

 

Alfred’s grief knew no bounds as he looked upon his remaining offspring, his daughter Melissia. At this time she was just 18 years old, she was a tall slim girl with deep red chestnut hair and large brown eyes. Eyes that could melt a man from twenty paces and what is more had inherited her mother’s beauty. He watched her as she hacked at a sack that she had strung from a tree.

 

“What game are you playing daughter,” he said wearily but with an amused smile.

 

“I am killing those people that took my brothers life,” she replied puffing out her chest pretending to be a warrior.

 

“What you do Melissia is commendable but you are no match for those invaders from Rome, now put down your sword and help your mother prepare supper.”

 

“Bah! All I ever do is woman’s work, I want to fight father, to kill Romans.” She gave a mock frown and squared her jaw.

 

Alfred put his hand on his daughters shoulder.

 

“Melissia your bravery knows no bounds but you know little of these people that you hate so much. They fight differently from us, they speak a language that is unknown to us, what can you hope to do against them?”

 

“Father I want to learn how to fight them, I want to learn their language, I want to know everything about them and most importantly of all I want to avenge your son, my brother.”

 

Alfred’s eyes moistened as he gazed at the determination of his daughter.

 

“I do not want you to become a warrior my little princess but by all means learn their language. I know of a learned man that can teach you but he lives far from here, are you prepared to go to this man for the knowledge you require?” He gazed into her doe like eyes hoping that leaving home would dissuade her.

 

“Yes I want to learn all there is about Romans, how they think, how they fight, everything.” There was an immense eagerness in her eyes that disturbed the old King.

 

“Melissia please, first things first, I will arrange for you to go to the man Arnold who speaks Latin the Roman tongue. It is a difficult language but your mind is quick, I think you will learn fast.”

 

She hugged her father and ran off to tell the good news to her frail mother. Alfred bowed his head in thought and wondered what he had started.

 

The man Arnold was not only a wise scholar but also an accomplished swordsman and he felt sure his daughter would flash those wondrous eyes at him to extract this skill from him. No one could resist Melissia’s pleading look, she could twist a man around her little finger.

 

Oh! Thought Alfred, what have I inflicted on poor Arnold? The old King turned and slowly walked back to his fortress bracing himself for the tongue lashing that would surely come from Melissia’s mother.

 

Nearly two years had passed and Melissia was returning to her father’s fortress in South Downland, she reflected on her past years under Arnold’s tuition.

 

Arnolds home was an old monastery that was very befitting for the scholar he was. Alfred had warned him in a letter about his daughter and of her ambitions for revenge on the Romans. In it he wrote, “Teach her Latin and any other tongues she wishes to learn but please omit the sword play she will surely crave.” The Kings words had a pleading note to them and Arnold resolved himself to obey them.

 

When Melissia arrived at his door Arnold was totally smitten by her. She moved with the grace of a gazelle and had the dark soft brown eyes of a baby deer. Her body was almost fully developed and it was obvious to him that she kept herself exceedingly fit. She had strong firm breasts leading down to a flat muscular stomach; her legs were lean with a well-defined muscle structure, peculiar to those of an athlete. When she smiled she revealed a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “By the gods!” thought Arnold “I have a goddess in my house.”

 

As time passed at the monastery Melissia soaked up knowledge like a sponge, Latin became a second language to her, she also became fluent in French and German. Arnold found it increasingly difficult to keep up with her thirst for learning. Soon the dreaded question arose.

 

“Dear Arnold, will you teach me how to use a sword?” She said it with that look that made him melt on the spot.

 

“I…I…” Arnold stammered, taken aback by the directness of her question.

 

“Well Arnold, will you?” She went on, cupping her delightful chin in her hands and flashing those eyes.

 

“Oh Princess, I promised your father that I would not teach you such things.” He replied with a look that said, “Please don’t ask me again.”

 

Over the next few weeks, having used her charisma and charms to their maximum, Melissia had made Arnold relent and so began her training, which she took too with an even greater relish than that for language. Arnold also taught her good manners, etiquette, and civility and over the following months Melissia’s hatred for the Romans began to mellow. Even so, she still managed to glean every tiny bit of Arnold’s fighting knowledge from him. As the months wore on he felt deeply guilty as to what he was teaching Alfred’s daughter. He had broken every promise he had made to his King and he was truly ashamed of himself. Melissia had charmed him like no other could; he could not resist the power she had over him, he was like soft clay in her hands and his love for her knew no bounds

 

Melissia snapped herself out of her reminiscences as she neared her father’s fortress. She pulled her horse up at the top of the downs and looked down into the valley. Her heart froze as she surveyed the smouldering ruins that were once her home. In a terrible frenzy she rode full gallop toward the ruined fortress, as she rode she could see many mounds of freshly dug earth. An old man was tending two of the mounds as Melissia pulled up her mount beside him.

 

“What has happened here, tell me old man?” she screamed stricken with panic.

 

“It was the Romans little lady, they came on yesterday’s dawn and murdered everyone.” He bowed his head in tearful grief, pushing at the fresh earth.

 

“My Father my Mother what news of them?” She looked at him utter dread filling her eyes.

 

“And who may they be?” Asked the old man wearily.

 

“Why Alfred and Serena, the King & Queen of South Downland, I am Melissia their daughter have you forgotten me already?”

 

He looked up at the flame haired woman who addressed him. “Melissia is it really you? May the gods be praised, you have returned.” The old man was truly pleased to see her.

 

Then his smile faded, “Melissia the news is as grave as it can be, the Romans have been systematically killing our leaders. Your Mother and Father were put to the sword, their bodies lie under these very mounds I tend.” With that he bowed his head and sobbed.

 

Melissia dismounted and flew to his side. “Dead!” My parents are Dead?”

 

She grabbed some of the soil and held it to her chest.

 

“Old man tell me all you know of these vile killers, I had forgiveness in my heart but now I see nothing but blood and hate. MY HATE, THEIR BLOOD!”

 

******

 

Melissia rode deep into the forest her emotions filled with both grief and anger. Coming upon a clearing next to a babbling stream she dismounted from her horse and knelt down to take a drink from the cold clear water. Having drank she sat back on her haunches and surveyed the surrounding forest, everything seemed so very quiet, there was just the faintest sound of the wind rustling the trees.

 

Unknown to Melissia eyes were upon her, the eyes belonged to a girl named Helena. She was about the same age as Melissia with thick brunette coloured hair and olive skin. She too had a lithe healthy body thanks to healthy eating and clean living. Helena’s eyes drank in the sight of the woman in the clearing; she noted the deep redness of her hair, the regal look, and she seemed to have all the prowess of a hunter. The scantiness of her attire stirred her, the soft leather loincloth around her nether regions and the small piece of material that covered her breasts. She wondered at the girls golden skin colour that she showed so much of. In addition she appeared to be some kind of warrior, for she carried a great sword and other some fearsome looking weapons.

 

Helena’s eagerness to see more of her quarry caused her to tread on some twigs that alerted Melissia who unsheathed the deadly looking sword she kept at her side.

 

“Who’s there show yourself?" Melissia shouted through clenched teeth

 

Helena stepped out of h.

 

“My name is Helena daughter of Seth and Mary.” Replied the quivering girl.

 

Melissia lowered her sword realising the girl was a Briton and of no threat to her.

 

“What is it you seek Helena?” Asked Melissia as she sheathed her sword.

 

“Oh I was here in the clearing and I saw you arrive, clearly you are not from here and your weapons intimidated me.” Said Helena hoping that the warrior woman’s sword would remain where it was.

 

“Please don’t be afraid of me Helena, I am just passing through, here, come sit with me.” Melissia sat down and patted the grass beside her.

 

An hour passed while Melissia gave the girl a brief resume of her life story, she told her of her tuition under Arnold and the death of her parents and brother. Helena’s story was much the same regarding her parents; they too had died at the hands of the Romans, she too was very bitter toward the invaders.

 

“Then like me you have no family to speak of, would you like to join me?” Melissia put a pleading hand on Helena’s shoulder.

She went on, “I seek like minded women to join my band, I will hone them into fearsome warriors have no doubt about that, are you with me girl?”

 

Helena had been mesmerised by Melissia’s eyes, the sheer look of determination in them was incredible and she knew the answer had to be yes. To be just a small part of Melissia’s army would indeed be a great honour, even then Helena felt she could lay down her life for her and her cause.

 

“Then come Helena, from this very day you will be my first lieutenant, let us seek out others who have suffered the same fate. We will become a great thorn in the side of Rome.”

 

        

 

With that the two women mounted Melissia’s horse and rode ever deeper into the forest to seek out what would be the most formidable guerrilla army ever to have roamed Britons lands.

 

For the next six months Melissia and Helena visited all the towns and villages gathering recruits as they went. Finally they had amassed an army of would be warrior women. Melissia trained five of the toughest women personally, then sent those out to train another fifty each in the art of combat and swordsmanship. The women learned quickly for they all had a consuming hatred of the Romans.

 

Helena had introduced Melissia to Rebecca daughter of the late blacksmith of Storrings Town. The Romans too had murdered him but before his untimely death his daughter had acquired her late fathers skills at the forge. It was Rebecca’s task to forge the initial crude weapons the women would need. Melissia insisted that the armour should be minimal, just enough to cover vital organs, shoulders, forearms, and thighs. This attire would not be appropriate she said but it would give them the utmost agility.

 

Rebecca had expressed her concerns to Melissia regarding the amount of weapons needed plus all the horses and body armour required. Melissia allayed her fears by describing how she would systematically relieve the Roman patrols of theirs.

 

And so the slaughter started, the Roman invaders were spread very thin in southern Briton and were easy pickings for the marauding women. Indeed the invaders had thought they had contained any would be threat by either killing or enslaving all the young men from the towns and villages. They had not made any allowances regarding an uprising by mere women.

 

Soon Melissia and her army of warrior women had all the weapons, horses and armour they needed. They had attacked food supply columns, this helped boost their own supplies meted out by loyal towns folk and villagers. Within a year the women had slaughtered every patrol they had encountered and had set up strongholds in all the villages in South Downland. In all that time not one Roman soldier had been spared, the women had vowed to take no prisoners.

 

Meanwhile back at the old forge in Storrings Town Melissia and Helena reflected on the past months. Melissia was removing her body armour by the fireside; Helena was seated at a nearby trestle table.

 

“We have done well thanks to you Melissia.” Helena gazed at Melissia as she removed her breastplate.

 

“Yes, I am extremely pleased at our success so far, you and the other women have excelled yourselves.” Melissia removed the final piece of thigh armour from her legs. Then in all innocence removed the rest of her scant clothing.

 

Helena stared transfixed at the scene before her; Melissia’s body was illuminated from behind by the flickering fire. The sheen of her skin glowed in the golden light; Helena was totally smitten by her leaders beauty.

 

“Why do you stare so?” inquired Melissia as she wiped the skin that had captivated Helena so much.

 

“Oh I…I’m sorry.” stammered the brunette, “I didn’t realise I was staring.” Helena looked down at her feet stunned at her leader’s perception.

 

“Don’t worry Helena, I myself have those feelings from time to time, none of us have known any kind of love for many a year.” Melissia went over to Helena and cupped her face in her hands. “I too have tried to hide my feelings from you Helena and now I guess the killings have stirred deep passions within us. We have no men to quell those passions, so what else is there?” With that Melissia gave the brunette the gentlest of kisses.

 

“Let us go outside Helena, we shall vent some of those feelings tonight, tomorrow we both could be dead!” Melissia took Helena’s hand and lead her into the forest.

 

Helena melted at the thought of being made love to by this flame haired temptress. Her loins burned and flooded at the thought. She followed Melissia into a forest glade.

 

“I would gladly die a thousand times for just this one night with you Melissia.” Said Helena as her leader peeled away her garments.

 

              

 

“And I too.” Replied Melissia. “Pleasure me lieutenant, pleasure me and believe me, I will pleasure you like no other person on this earth can!” With that the two girls locked themselves into a violent embrace.

 

********

 

At his palace in Nova Magus the Roman Consul Petronius Arius gazed toward the estuary far down in the valley of the Ems River. Petronius was a hawkish man some thirty-eight years old; he was tired of this barbaric land with its heinous Anglo Saxon’s and marauding pirates from Germany and France. He lorded over some 200.000 soldiers of the Roman Empire who had been spread thinly all over the south coast of Briton. To him Briton was the most inhospitable place on Earth with its cold wet winters and temperate summers. This summer however, was exceedingly hot and humid even by Britons standards.

 

To add to his discomfort he had been receiving reports that food convoys and patrols were being systematically wiped out. Not one of the soldiers had lived to tell who the perpetrators were. He sent for his General Honorius Plexus who controlled all his troops south of Londinium. The General was also a battle weary soldier who longed to return to Rome. He stood before the Consul and saluted.

 

“Honorius, I thought we had eradicated all opposition to our troops in South Downland, by the gods man we even disposed of its errant king!” The Consul turned from the window and faced his General, a quizzical expression on his face.

 

“Consul I am sure we had but it seems we have a new enemy on our hands. Yet another enemy to add to the ever growing numbers.” Replied the General wearily.

 

“This one is different Honorius, they have acquired horses, horses from our own men. Up to now Britons had little knowledge of horses and indeed little knowledge of fighting on horseback, so who are they?” The Consul slammed his fist down on the marble table in front of him.

 

“At this moment I have no idea, release some more troops to me Consul and I will appoint an appropriate Commander to seek them out and destroy them, whoever they are!” Replied the General sternly.

 

“Yes, yes Honorius, I will give orders for a legion to be released from our border with Caledonia. Things are a little quieter there now since the wall was built marking our territory but you must not fail me General, if this news gets back to Rome we will both be banished to the Siberian wastes!” Petronius sat down and unfolded a map of South Downland.

 

“Get your men to start their search here.” The Consul tapped the map with his finger. “And General.” He went on. “If it is at all possible bring the leader of this uprising to me personally.” An example must be made; it must be understood that anyone leading an uprising against Rome will meet with a long lingering and terrible death!”

 

Honorius saluted his Consul and left to organise his counter offensive in South Downland. At his headquarters in Nova Magus he sat down and thought about whom he would appoint to lead the first sweep. The name that came to mind was Antoninus Maximus, a bright young centurion that had excelled in the destruction and capture of would be guerrilla’s forces. He was a powerful young man and extremely battle hardy, the General felt he would be the man to bring these rebels to account.

 

During the next few weeks a legion of three thousand men arrived just south of Londinium. Honorius Plexus was there to meet them together with Antoninus Maximus. The men were tired from their long march from the north. Honorius told the captains to let their men rest and then select a cohort of three hundred men to carry on to South Downland.

 

Antoninus was duly promoted to Tribune and was to lead this first cohort and seek out the guerrillas, he wanted dearly to kill them all but he was ordered to bring back a special prisoner. This prisoner was to be made a supreme example of, so Rome could be appeased, so the Britons would think twice before challenging the might of Rome again!

 

*******

 

Melissia and Helena continued to seek sexual pleasure from each other over the next few weeks. Every time they killed Romans they sort refuge in each other’s arms. Killing and lovemaking became entwined, they were insatiable together.

 

Meanwhile just to the north in a village called Middle Hurst Antoninus Maximus arrived with his cohort of soldiers. It was his intention to question the villagers as to the possible whereabouts of the guerrilla army he sort. The villagers froze as the Romans marched into their haven, they wanted to run but there was nowhere for them to go. All the young men and boys of the village had been killed or taken to the Roman galleys for a lifetime in slavery. All that remained were a handful of young girls and a smattering of very elderly men and women.

 

Antoninus dismounted from his horse and accompanied by three centurions walked from one hut to another. In the darkness of one of the huts they came upon a young girl cowering in the corner, she was clearly afraid of the invaders. The girl was in her early 20’s and was called Meena, she was a small lean girl, with a pretty round face and light straw coloured hair. She was barefoot and wore a rough dress made of sackcloth.

 

Antoninus who spoke the Saxon Language addressed the girl. “Come outside, we wish to ask you some questions.” He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out of the hut. He liked it when they were afraid, the frightened ones always proved very helpful.

 

“You can start by telling us your name girl!” Yelled the first centurion as he towered over her.

 

“M.m.my…n.n..name..is..Meena.” She stammered, hardly able to speak.

 

The villagers looked on, they were all truly terrified by this unwelcome intrusion by so many Romans. They all knew why they had come it was only a matter of time, now here they were in terrifying numbers surrounding the village.

 

Antoninus put his hand on the centurions shoulder and moved him to one side; he then gripped Meena’s shoulders. “What can you tell me about the attacks on our patrols Meena?” His fierce eyes burned into her.

 

“I..I...know nothing of what you ask sir.” She whimpered, terrified of the large Roman.

 

Antoninus turned to one of his centurions. “Did you bring your whip Drachius? I think Meena’s memory is somewhat lacking.” He continued to gaze into the girls eyes, looking for tell tale signs that she knew more then she let on.

 

Drachius nodded and fetched a fearsome looking whip from his saddlebag, in full view of Meena and the villagers he uncoiled it.

 

Antoninus turned to the villagers. “I have no stomach for putting young women under the lash, so if anyone would like to give me the information I seek then we can put an end to all this unpleasantness!”

 

There was just a murmured shuffling amongst the villagers but no one spoke up.

 

“Very well then, the lash it will be, seize her up!”

 

Three soldiers stepped forward and dragged Meena to a nearby post. They stripped her naked and tied her hands above her head. The girl stood trembling and braced herself for the ordeal that was to come.

 

Antoninus address the assembled villagers once more. “There is no reason for this girl to receive a single lash if I receive the information I need!” He waited for an answer but none came, the villagers just stared down at their feet.

 

“Very well Drachius lay it on!” Antoninus stepped back

 

Drachius was a well-muscled man with immensely powerful arms; he drew the whip back and laid the first lash squarely across Meena’s shoulder blades. The blow completely knocked all breath out of the young girl and drew a shrill scream from her which was followed by loud sobs. A large red weal quickly formed on her soft skin.

 

Antoninus addressed the villagers again. “As you can see I am not bluffing, he turned to the girl. “Meena, there is no need for you to suffer this torture, tell me what I want to know and I will have you cut down!”

 

Meena spoke through continuous sobs. “P..P..Please s..s..sir..I cannot help you with the information you seek, d…d…don’t hurt me anymore, this is so terrible for me!” She sobbed even more.

 

Antoninus countered, “That is not the right answer, Meena, Drachius, lay it on until I tell you to stop!” He stepped away once more.

 

Drachius drew back his mighty whip arm and struck the girl firmly across the shoulders once more, her whole body shook and another ugly weal criss-crossed the first. Meena screamed so loudly her voice became hoarse. The soldier struck again, this time the lash landed across the young girls backside, her buttocks trembled under the blow. Meena struggled wildly in a vane effort to avoid the punishing strokes; her body glistened in the sunlight as the pain from the welts burned into her skin. This was a pain like no other she had ever experienced in her young life, she hoped beyond all hope that her suffering would be worthwhile for she did not want to betray Melissia or her army.

 

Drachius continued to lay stroke after stroke across Meena’s back, buttocks and thighs. She had now lost her ability to scream, her vocal chords were damaged and she was loosing control of her bladder.

 

Antoninus ordered the soldier to stop; he turned once more to the villagers. “I am going to ask one last time for the information I seek, if it is not forthcoming I will have this girl lashed to death!” He paused to wait for an answer that did not come. He spoke to the two soldiers that were standing each side of the suspended girl.

 

“Very well, turn her around to face us, we will see how her breasts and stomach fare under the lash!”

 

Meena could not believe what she had heard; having lacerated her back they were now going to do the same to her front. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth.

 

“Proceed!” Antoninus turned to the crowd once again. “ I mean what I say, please understand she will be whipped to death!” 

 

The two flanking soldiers turned Meena’s body around for her to receive lashes to the front of her body. As Drachius drew his arm back to continue his onslaught one of the village elders stepped forward.

 

“STOP!” he shouted, “I will give you the information you require, I cannot standby and watch you murder this young girl!”” A murmur went through the assembled crowd.

&nbsd. “What is your name old man?”

 

“I go by the name of Frederick” He replied

 

The Tribune rose from his crude wooden chair. “Well Frederick you have given us much to ponder and I thank you for your candour regarding these serious matters, you may leave us now.”

 

As soon as Frederick left the hut anger erupted from the three centurions.

 

Antoninus held up his hand to silence them. “Gentlemen, calm down, we must approach this problem calmly and logically. An army has been constructed from the very persons we overlooked, the women. Therefore we must take steps to see that this cannot happen ever again. So centurions, instruct your men to round up all the capable women and little girls and have them ferried to the galleys. We must let this Pagan Princess know that her people are once again under our total control. Also let it be known that we are retaining a small proportion of children as hostages. She must be advised that if she does not surrender herself to me personally within the month the hostages will be put to death. So let it be written, so let it be done!”

 

Shouts and screams came from the villagers as the Roman soldiers rounded up the women and children. They were put into crude wooden cages that had been commandeered from the village. The cages containing the captives were then loaded onto wooden carts to begin their arduous journey to the south coast of Briton. The Tribune left word that he would receive Melissia’s surrender at the very town she called home, Storrings Town.

 

Thanks to Frederick Antoninus had been furnished with all the information he needed regarding the errant Princess. He knew she would surrender herself once the plight of the hostages reached her. Already in his mind he planned her punishment. It also crossed his mind what the Consul would have to say when he heard that his troops had been dieing at the hands of a young woman and her female friends. He also remembered the Consuls last words to his General; ‘I want the transgressor brought to me alive!’

 

‘Ah yes.’ Thought the Tribune. ‘I will save enough of her for the Consul to set his example to the people. In the mean time I will make her scream for mercy, to beg for death, the road to Nova Magus is a long one.’ He smiled to himself. ‘Soon Melissia, soon your skin will be mine.’

 

It only took a few days for the news as to what happened in Middle Hurst to reach Melissia. She was mortified at what the Roman heathens had done to the women and children. She called a meeting of her commanders.

 

Helena was the first to speak. “NO Melissia! We cannot condone you surrendering to that man, he is a monster.” She said tearfully.

 

The other commanders suggested that they “all surrender, no one woman should receive Roman punishment on her own.” Melissia however, had other ideas.

 

Helena and Melissia had a farewell night of unbridled passion; tongues and fingers worked their magic in the most delicate of places. The two girls brought each other into the erotic world of multiple orgasm, they writhed simultaneously in each other’s arms for most of the night. Their exertions caused their golden skin to glisten in the moonlight. Totally exhausted and sexually sated Helena relaxed in Melissia’s arms.

 

Helena sighed deeply and whispered to her lover, “Melissia, please change your mind about surrendering to those Roman murderers.”

 

Toying with a strand of Helena’s blond hair Melissia replied, “This is the only way, my surrender will save the children.”

 

“But Melissia,” Helena countered, “What if that cruel Tribune is not a man of his word?”

 

“Then you my dear lieutenant you will have to take my stead and wipe him and his murdering soldiers from the face of this earth!” Melissia gripped Helena’s shoulder and shuddered at the thought of leaving her, she whispered under her breath in Latin. “Nil illigitimus carborundum.”

 

Helena looked puzzled, “What does that mean?”

 

Melissia laughed, “It means, don’t let the bastards grind you down!” Giving Helena a hug she went on. “It will take more than one Roman Tribune and his cohorts to snuff the life out the Saxon women of this land. Come Helena, the dawn comes we must put our plans into action, do not fear, the gods are with us.” With that Melissia and her lieutenant dressed and summoned the leaders of their army.

 

*********

 

 

 

Some days later Antoninus lay in his tent unable to sleep, he tossed and turned on his makeshift cot. The deadline for that woman to surrender herself was almost up and he really did not want to kill the hostages. Perhaps he had misjudged her? Perhaps she really would let them die rather than surrender to him? He drifted off into a fitful sleep, his throat irritated him, the constant prickle at his neck, and a musky smell of a sexually charged woman permeated his nostrils. It all seemed so real, even the soft whispering voice in his ear telling him to wake up. He opened his eyes, the tickle at his throat was real, the smell of a woman was real, and here she was in his tent with a fiendish looking sword at his neck.

 

“Ah he wakes.” Whispered Melissia. “Just stay where you are Tribune, else I cut you a new mouth!”

 

        

 

“By the gods, how did you slip by my sentries?” he snarled, pulling himself up on his elbows.

 

“Move not one more inch Roman, I want to look at the man who has been sent to capture me!” Melissia dug the point of her sword harder into the Tribune’s neck. She ran her eyes over her quarry; his physique was outstanding, as were his powerful arms and chest muscles. She marvelled at his incredibly muscular thighs and the magnificent phallus that lay between them, Melissia salivated.

 

“So Melissia.” He had used her name for the first time, for he too wondered at the exquisite creature that stood before him. “Are you going to surrender to me, or kill me?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

 

Melissia having devoured the Adonis before her lowered her sword. “Yes I have come to surrender myself to you and your empire, so take me in return for your captives, do with me what you will but spare the children.”

 

Antoninus took the sword from her. “This is all very noble of you Melissia but my duties regarding you are quite clear. I will keep my word and release the hostages and you young lady have an appointment with the lash. My centurion Drachius is a master of it; you will be whipped all the way to Nova Magus. Then I am to save a small piece of you for the Consul!”

 

Melissia folded her arms across her chest, “And here’s me thinking that it might have been something I said!”

 

That remark earned Melissia a slap across her face; the powerful blow sent her sprawling across the floor. Melissia wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, she went to get up but the Tribune stopped her by putting his foot on her chest.

 

“Not so fast princess, I am not done with you yet!” Antoninus grabbed her by the leather halter she was wearing and pulled her roughly to her feet.

 

“Ever since that old man in Middle Hurst described you I have dreamt of the day I would possess you, now that moment has come!”

 

With that he grabbed Melissia’s flimsy leather top and ripped it from her chest.

 

“By the gods, Frederick was right, your beauty surpasses you.” He stared at Melissia’s firm breasts, his hand moved down to the chamois leather loincloth she was wearing and tore at it eager to get to the honeyed treasure beneath. She said nothing to him, she knew that this would happen and she wanted it to happen ever since she laid eyes on him. His hand found her vagina and parted the soft fleshy lips, he plunged a finger into her and then withdrew it to examine the wetness he found there.

 

“Ah my presence is expected, so let’s not disappoint you Melissia!” He said in a heavily whispered voice as he pinned her down on his map table.

 

Melissia felt him prise her legs apart and then felt his phallus enter her. With one very hard thrust Antoninus burst through her hymen. She cried out more in ecstasy than pain, for his delightful meaty rod filled her to the very limits.

 

“Ah the rumours were true, you were a virgin princess!” Said the Tribune as he continued to pound into her.

 

Melissia spoke for the first time since her rape began, she looked deeply into her assailants eyes.

 

“Yes what a pity it has to be with a pig from Rome!” She gasped as Antoninus’ thrusts gathered momentum.

 

“Well spoken young lady that will earn you extra time on the whipping frame.” He panted as his tongue raped her mouth.

 

“Better to spend more time on the whipping frame then having to endure you between my thighs you Roman dog!” She gasped as she tried to avoid his probing tongue then she felt the Roman reach a thundering climax.

 

Antoninus did not reply to her derogatory comments as he was busy emptying his seed into her. Her pelvic grip was intense, she was able to wring every last drop from him, he had never known anyone who could do this before.

 

“Have you quite finished?” Melissia exclaimed as the Tribune withdrew from her.

 

“I shall never be finished with you young woman!” Replied Antoninus as he poured some water into a bowl to wash the virgin blood from his loins.

 

“Each night when Drachius has finished flaying your body, I shall satisfy my lust on your body. That Melissia is my promise to you!”

 

Melissia’s eyes flashed. “As I said before you spawn of Rome, do with me what you will, all I ask is that you keep your promise and release the hostages!” She stooped to retrieve the remnants of her garments.

 

The Tribune started to dress himself. “To you I may represent all that is evil Melissia but I am a man of my word.” Antoninus buckled up his beautifully tooled leather breastplate. “Then after their release, your punishment will begin.”

 

“Very well Tribune, I thank you for that, I will gladly die for what I believe in!” She said as she bathed her bloodied thighs.

 

Antoninus countered. “Oh no, I will not be granting you a swift death Melissia, you will beg me for it but I shall deny it to you. Believe me I shall keep my word on that too!”

 

Antoninus had his personal guards arrested and put in irons; he was incensed that the girl had entered his command tent undetected. Their punishment was to be a severe flogging, castration and then returned on the galleys to Rome to serve as eunuchs.

 

Melissia was taken to a makeshift prison cell in the town. The sheer numbers of soldiers that were assigned as her guard flattered her. She had been stripped naked and suspended by her wrists to a beam in the ceiling. As the joints in her shoulders burned she reflected on the fate that awaited her. Nova Magus and the Roman Consul were three days march away. That meant at least three sessions under Drachius’ whip plus whatever they were going to do to her this day. Her loins still ached from the Tribune’s violent administrations and with the promise of more to come caused her flush.

 

Melissia was paid a visit by the centurions Drachius, Marcellus and Drusus. The three men were equally as powerful in physique as Antoninus.

 

Drachius spoke first. “So this little girl is the one that has been causing so much trouble?” He stood squarely in front of Melissia and unleashed an incredibly hard slap to her face. Her head snapped back from the force of it and blood flowed freely from her nose and mouth.

 

“And that little girl is just my hand, imagine if you will what my lash will do to you.” He stood back awaiting her response.

 

"Ah yes….Roman rhetoric. I've studied Greek, and recall that this was the classic Roman response to Philosophy. You are a strong man Drachius but your blows lack the force of logic".

 

Livid, Drachius held Melissa by the hair and pulled back his massive fist. Antoninus had entered the cell unseen and gripped the centurion’s arm.

 

"That will do for now - we want her to feel your expert attentions. And I will visit you later Melissia, to give you my attentions…."

 

"I notice you didn't say 'expert' attentions.” Melissa added, audibly, under her breath.

 

He turned and went outside to breath in the air of the fresh dawn; the girl troubled him as he reflected.

 

He must faithfully discharge his commission to punish her, taking her before the Consul humble and powerless. This could be done; it would be like overcoming the natural fear all men felt before battle. The witch had undoubted power but she would be no match for a Roman Officer.

 

When their eyes had met he was, despite all this, unprepared for the force of it. He felt almost dizzy. Her taste was in his mouth; her intoxicating scent in his nostrils - the sound of her voice flogged him: "You are wrong again Roman. I am willing to die but will never beg you for it. Torture is the only example of Roman artistic originality so I expect to be tortured. But remember well the circumstances of our meeting. And know that on the next occasion I will not restrain my blade".

 

Oh yes she troubled him immensely, maybe he would snap out of it when her punishment began. Antoninus ordered that all available soldiers be assembled in the town square. The carpenter knocked together a formidable whipping frame that would stretch the girl to her very limits. It was designed so that she would not be able to flinch from the lash. Having caught a brief glimpse of her it had become a labour of love to build such a fiendish device.

 

When all were assembled Melissia was brought out into the strong morning sunlight. Her naked body glistened as the sun bounced off her delectable skin.

 

She walked with the grace of a young gazelle to the foreboding frame. “Please don’t let them see you tremble.” She had thought to herself.

 

On her arrival at the frame two soldiers stepped forward and manhandled Melissia into position. Leather straps were tightened about her wrists and ankles. The wrist straps were attached to an overhead beam on the frame; this beam could then be raised and lowered according to how much the occupant of the frame needed to be stretched. The straps about her ankles were fastened to the upright posts either side of her body. Now in this position she formed a perfect X. The beam was raised by a winding mechanism and stretched Melissia so tightly that her joints in her arms, legs and back screamed out in protest.

 

Drachius stepped out from the front ranks of the assembled soldiers carrying one of his many assorted whips. He was stripped to the waist and Melissia could see every detail of his well-formed muscle structure. The man was a superb athletic specimen.

 

“At the behest of my commanding officer I am to use a light weight whip on you little girl. You see the Tribune wants to deliver you to the Consul in one piece. This situation will enable me to whip you for a very long time without killing you. I can tell you now that all this makes me very happy and of course light whips cause so much more pain and agony than the heavy ones!” Drachius cracked the whip right under Melissia’s nose to gain a reaction from her.

 

“Well,” she replied, “if I can bring a little happiness into your pathetic life then so be it, I do hope it doesn’t tickle, I would really hate that!” She looked straight into the centurion’s cruel eyes to gauge his reaction to her remark.

 

“Goad me all you want little girl, for you will dance for me this very day and your screams will be music to my ears!”

 

Drachius put his hand between Melissia’s legs and fingered her vagina.

 

“Ah so you think being flogged will give you a sexual thrill do you?” Continued the centurion as he examined the moisture on his fingers.

 

“Better your whip centurion than a ministering from your phallus!” She held his gaze and could see her remark incensed him.

 

Drachius had enough of these verbal jousts and turned to his Tribune for the signal to commence this sharp-tongued vixens punishment.

 

“Lay it on Drachius, I will tell you when to stop!” Antoninus waved his hand as a signal to start.

 

Drachius looked at her superbly well-muscled back and decided to start carving a criss-cross of welts on what was to him a blank canvas. His first lash landed squarely across her shoulders and drew a sharp intake of breath from her; he felt a surge of passion as her muscles started to spasm under the shock of the impact.

 

To Melissia the pain was more intense than she could have possibly imagined.

 

Before she could draw breath the next blow landed in the small of her back, this produced a small stifled sob from her. After the next six she felt that her skin was on fire, the tightness of her restraints increased her agony even more. Sweat started to run down her outstretched body, she bit into her lower lip in an effort to try and not scream.

 

Drachius was indeed a very accomplished master of the whip as after 18 strokes most of Melissia’s back, buttocks and legs were covered in angry red welts. Antoninus noted that her bladder had emptied as a result of the intense pain and fear she was feeling at this dreadful moment in time. He admired her spirit; her efforts not to cry out were commendable but as the blows continued Drachius had started to extract shrill screams and sobs from her. The Tribune saw how she curled up her toes and balled her fists in a vain effort to gain some sort of control over herself.

 

Melissia inwardly prayed for the blessed relief of unconsciousness as the incessant blows continued to flay her body. After Drachius had delivered his 30th lash a black veil drew across her eyes, Melissia fell into the arms of Morpheus.

 

“That’s enough for now Drachius, anymore will not be felt!” The Tribune stepped forward and drew a halt to the proceedings. “Take her down and return her to her cell!” he shouted to the two guards that were stationed each side of the frame. Antoninus watched as his men carried Melissia’s unconscious body back to her confinement. He thought how well she had taken her punishment, Melissia never failed to amaze him. That night he decided to tend to her wounds personally.

 

The soldiers carried Melissia’s limp body back to her cell. There they placed her face down on a makeshift wooden rack, securing her arms and feet to the four corners. They examined their centurion’s handy work with pride, running their hands over her back and buttocks and legs, feeling and stroking the inflamed patchwork of raised red welts on her skin.

 

“I must give Drachius credit for his expertise.” Said the first soldier. “These patterns are superb, he made her scream so much I very nearly ejaculated”.

 

“Me to,” replied the second soldier. “What a superb body this girl has, do you think we could take her, right here, right now? I am so aroused.” He then started to massage his swollen phallus.

 

“I think not, she belongs to the Tribune, we would take her place on that whipping frame if he found out we had ravaged her!” Replied the first soldier. “We had best leave her untouched!” With that the two soldiers went and stood guard outside dreaming of what might have been.

 

 

As he stood over her she began to stir. “Melissia it’s me, Antoninus!” He could not believe how softly he was speaking to her; she truly had a remarkable affect on him.

 

Melissia groaned, her voice cracked and broken from screaming so much. “Forgive me if I don’t stand.”

 

As full consciousness returned to her she became aware of the intense pain she was feeling all over her back, buttocks and thighs.

 

“Your centurion truly does enjoy his work Tribune, does my skin glow to your satisfaction?”

 

Antoninus knelt down beside her and removed the lid on the jar of balm he had brought with him and replied in a whispered voice.

 

“I have something that will sooth your pain Melissia.”

 

Melissia said nothing as she felt the first cold administration of the creamy unguent that the Tribune applied to a large welt that snaked diagonally from her right shoulder to the small of her back. The balm brought blessed relief to her suffering as Antoninus continued to apply it to her tortured body. For a big man he had a gentle touch and Melissia relished it. She felt his hand move in between her buttocks and felt his finger as it probed her petal like entrance. The balm tingled as he massaged it into her anus; the Tribune noted her audible gasp as he fingered her.

 

“What are you doing?” She sighed unable to resist the sensation she was feeling. Melissia was totally at the mercy of the Tribune’s administrations.

 

“I am now going to give you my ‘expert attention’ Melissia!” He said as he released his ample phallus from his loincloth.

 

“I will take you the Roman way!”

 

With that he entered her anus, Melissia tried to let out a howl of protest but her voice and sexual cravings dampened her will to scream and resist this strange assault. She clenched her fists and curled her toes as she felt the Tribunes fleshy manhood slide into her most forbidden place. It was an exquisite pain she felt as he continued to ravage her. The feeling of his phallus inside her plus the incredible sensation of the magic balm brought her to an incredibly powerful orgasm. To add to her raptures the Tribune had reached under her abdomen and sort out the engorged bud at the entrance to her vagina. As soon as Melissia felt his touch on that erotically charged nub multiple orgasmic waves shot up from between her legs and exploded through her breasts, only ceasing their rippling journey at the tips of her hardened nipples.

 

At that very moment she felt the Tribune convulse and empty his seed inside her. She found herself whispering. “Et tu Antoninus?”

 

The next morning Melissia awoke to noise and activity outside her cell. As she slowly came round her guards came in, released her from the rack and dragged her outside. She could see columns of soldiers preparing to leave the town.

 

Drachius approached her. “Ah I see you have recovered from our last encounter?”

 

“Yes!” Replied Melissia, “It is very difficult to keep a good woman down!” She held her head aloof and looked down her nose at him.

 

Drachius scoffed at her and ordered that she be tethered behind the leading cart.

 

“You will walk to Nova Magus as naked as the day you were born little girl and if you trip and fall then we will drag you there!” He laughed as he turned to mount his horse.

 

Just as the column was about to set off a lone rider appeared riding at great speed. Melissia watched as he dismounted and approached the Tribune. She saw Antoninus summon his centurions and after some discussion noted the growing agitation in them. Antoninus broke away from the group and came over to her.

 

He towered over her and shouted at her. “It would appear that the women and children I sent to the galleys have disappeared along with my soldiers, would this have anything to do with your army?”

 

Melissia glared into his blazing eyes and replied. “I am no longer in command of my army, they will have a new leader by now and it would appear they are making a very good job of it!” She flared her nostrils at him and held his gaze.

 

The Tribune gave Melissia a heavy slap across the face that sent her sprawling on the ground. She pulled herself up onto one elbow and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

 

“I take it you are not too happy about that then?”

 

Antoninus pulled her roughly to her feet. “I’ll show you how happy I am girl!” he bellowed as he beckoned to three nearby soldiers. “Take her to the ironmongers shop now!” he continued.

 

The soldiers dragged Melissia into an opened sided building at the end of the street. The building contained a hot ironmongers forge, she felt the heat from it as she was pushed inside.

 

“Secure her to that beam!” Shouted the Tribune.

 

Very quickly Melissia found herself with her hands and arms tied above her head and with her feet and ankles spread and securely bound to beams either side of her.

 

 

This turn of events disturbed her very much, staring at the burning forge she knew she was in for even more serious torture. Sweat ran down her gleaming torso, more from fear than anything else.

 

The three centurions seething with anger joined Antoninus at the forge.

 

“I need to know what your army plans to do next Melissia? Speak now and avoid this interrogation by branding!” He pushed a long bladed knife into the hot coals and pumped the bellows several times.

 

Trying to hide her nervousness Melissia replied. “As I said earlier, I am no longer their leader, branding me will not change anything!”

 

“We shall see, Melissia, we shall see!” The Tribune withdrew the knife from the forge and examined the glowing blade as he approached the woman spread before him.

 

He held the burning hot blade in front of Melissia’s face; she just stared at it transfixed. She closed her eyes tightly to protect her eyes from the searing heat. Without any further hesitation Antoninus applied the glowing blade to the soft skin on the inside of her left thigh and held it there. Her soft sweat soaked skin made a sizzling sound and Melissia’s piercing screams could be heard throughout the town.

 

“Yes Melissia the pain is beyond belief is it not and I will not be done with you until you tell me what I want to know!” The Tribune put the knife back into the forge. Preparing it for the next kiss on her writhing body.

 

The Tribune placed the red-hot blade against the inside of Melissia’s right thigh producing another even shriller scream of agony from her. He held the blade against her tortured thigh for several seconds and watched her buck and writhe desperately in a futile effort to avoid the hideous burning pain between her legs.

 

Antoninus had to shout to make himself heard above Melissia’s uncontrollable sobbing.

 

“Ah little princess this is so much more painful than the lash is it not? Please, tell me what I want to know and I will end your torment!” The Tribune noted a pleading look in the girl’s eyes. “Yes you really do want to tell me something don’t you?” He went on.

 

Melissia spoke through agonised sobs. “ Li….li…listen to me you Roman filth, it would not have been difficult to predict your movements once I was in your custody. My lieutenants have been trained well in Roman tactics and are correctly guessing your every move. They do not need me to tell them how to do that!”

 

“And may I assume we may be visited by them between here and Nova Magus?” He replied quizzically.

 

 

 

 

Melissia’s courage returned. “You can assume what you will Tribune, I am dispensable, they will attack you when and wherever necessary, my being your prisoner will not deter them. The destruction of you and your cohort is inevitable.” She held is gaze delighting in his quandary.

 

“Then we will proceed by another route, thank you Melissia for making it so obvious to me. What a pity I had to mark those wonderful thighs. I will get the apothecary to make up a lotion for you.” With that he plunged the hot blade into a nearby bucket of water, Melissia breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The Tribune and his three centurions left Melissia with her guards and went to make alternative arrangements for their journey to Nova Magua. The guards released her from the beams and pinned her down on some nearby straw bales. They brutally spread her legs, groped her at her breasts and plunged their fingers into her vaginal folds.

 

“You seem to have lost our Tribune’s favour girl, seeing you branded like that has made me very excited indeed.” Scowled the first soldier.

 

With that he withdrew his swollen member from his tunic and started to pleasure himself. His two colleagues continued to grope Melissia’s tortured body. In what seemed like seconds he emptied his semen all over her abdomen.

 

“Thank the gods you are not my lover!” Croaked Melissia wearily. The remark earned her another slap to her face.

 

“Oh please wash your hands before you do that again!” She continued deridingly.

 

In a few short minutes the remaining two guards emptied their scrotal contents onto her face and breasts.

 

“Well, you pagan whore all your skin is worthy of is to be a receptacle for our ejaculate!” Exclaimed the second guard as he slapped her face again. “I sincerely hope I will be your guard when you are dragged before the Consul!”

 

“Yes of course.” Replied Melissia. “All friends should stick together should they not? And talking about sticking I would like to wash your filth from my body!” She continued haughtily.

 

The first guard was about to slap her again when Antoninus walked in. “That will do! Let her up and get out! He bellowed at his three soldiers as they hurriedly left the forge.

 

The pain was so intense between Melissia’s thighs she could not stand. The Tribune walked over to her prone body and stood over her.

 

“Well now, I leave you alone for just a few minutes and as soon as my back is turned I find you titillating my men, shame on you.” Antoninus’ humour had returned; he felt he was in control of the situation once more.

 

“Yes, that was some party, what a shame you missed it!” Agonised Melissia trying to get to her feet.

 

The Tribune noted the ejaculate covering her belly and breasts.

 

“Did they penetrate you?” He asked looking on with some concern.

 

Melissia scoffed at him. “Huh! Why should you care? They were just playing follow my leader!” She finally managed to stand up.

 

Antoninus examined her bruised face. “That insolent tongue of yours will be torn out one of these days believe me! Now go wash yourself and apply some of this to your burns.”

 

He handed her a small earthenware jar and pointed to a large water trough in the corner of the shop. Melissia snatched it from him and went to attend her burnt and bruised body.

 

While Melissia attended to her wounds and washed herself another messenger arrived outside. This time it was good news for the Tribune. Two more cohorts were approaching from the north, these would swell his army to 900 men, he was jubilant.

 

‘Let them try and rescue her now’ he thought to himself.

 

While Antoninus waited for the reinforcements to arrive new men were posted to guard Melissia. They were warned not to violate her in any way and to do so would bring swift retribution from the Tribune.

 

The moment the reinforcements arrived Antoninus called a war council with the nine centurions who were now under his command. He informed them that he expected Melissia’s warrior army to ambush them somewhere between here and Nova Magus. Therefore, he wanted the extra troops to perform a sweep to the south and north of the road all the way to the city. Antoninus was confident that with three cohorts he could repel any form of attack or rescue attempt from the pagan women. He advised his new officers how the prisoner had told him she was dispensable and how he himself thought very differently.

 

So the advanced reconnaissance force was sent out, the remaining forces were to proceed with all speed to Nova Magus. Drachius was informed that the first stop would be short and subsequently there would be no time to put Melissia to the lash for a second time. The centurion could barely hide his anger, he felt sure his commanding officer was softening toward the girl. With that in mind he decided that the quicker she was taken before the Consul the better.

 

Melissia hardly noticed the general noise from the gathering troops outside her cell. She busily applied the lotion that the apothecary had mixed for her.

 

On first application it seemed to cause her even more pain but after an hour it brought here blessed relief. She silently thanked the unknown person who concocted this magical balm.

 

The guard that was stationed at the end of her cot spoke out. “You will need a lot of that unguent when the Consul has done with you girl!” He said, laughing at his own jocularity.

The guard remembering his Tribune’s warning, suppressed his urge to slap her but retorted. “Curse me all you want for now little girl but heed this. It is we who will break you and your kin and it is you who will dance to the tune of the Consul’s painful torture and it is I who will be the first in line to nail you to the cross when he is done with you!”

 

Melissia finished tending her wounds and looked up at her tormentor. “And I promise you soldier that it will be you and your kind who will dance on the end of a pagan sword, that is my solemn promise to you and the rest of your murdering kinsmen!”

 

Before the guard could make a further reply a sentry came in and gave an order for Melissia to be taken outside. She was astounded when she saw how many Roman soldiers had arrived. Drachius appeared from one of the nearby groups, he grabbed her tightly by the arm and lead her to his horse.

 

Melissia was intrigued. “Am I not to be dragged to Nova Magus then?” she said haughtily trying to break away from the centurions vice like grip.

 

Drachius gave her a cuff to the head. “I have no more time for your verbal jousts woman, we are to proceed with all speed, your dalliances will not be tolerated at this time!” With that he threw her over his horse.

 

The centurion then climbed up behind her and joined the column with Melissia protesting vehemently about her exposed position across Drachius’ saddle. She looked around for Antoninus but he was far away at the head of the line of troops.

 

“Any more noise from you little girl and I will punish these resplendent buttocks that rise up so nicely before me!” Melissia’s anger worsened as she heard Drachius laughing at her predicament.

 

They rode hard all day and well into the night, finally just before midnight they made camp. Melissia’s head spun from the buffeting she received whilst laying across Drachius’ saddle. Her chest and ribs ached unbearably and she had no doubt that was the centurion’s intention. He pulled her off his horse took out some leather twine, strapped her arms behind her back and tied her ankles together. Four soldiers were assigned to guard her while he went to see his Tribune.

 

Antoninus saw him coming and noted the anger in the Drachius’ face.

 

“What is it Drachius?” He asked, wondering what had angered his favourite centurion and friend so much.

 

Drachius looked at his leader squarely in the eyes.

 

“Tell me Tribune, are you in love with her, has she managed to dazzle you with those doe eyes of hers?” He searched Antoninus’ face for an answer to his question.

 

“By the gods no Drachius, she has stirred my loins on occasion but no she has not captivated me.” He went to dismiss his centurion.

 

“Prove it!” Replied Drachius, “Prove to me that there is not more to this situation!” Still continuing to search his leaders face.

 

“And how should I do that Drachius?” This questioning from his subordinate troubled him.

 

“You promised I could put her under the lash each and every night on our way to the city!” The centurion held his stare.

 

“Yes, Drachius I did but……”

 

The centurion interrupted him.

 

“You can prove to me there is nothing between the two of you Tribune, let me put her to the lash tonight. Then tomorrow we can present her to the Consul with a beautiful set of fresh stripes!” Drachius waited for the compromise.

 

Antoninus did feel he was compromised and searched his thoughts for a solution that would spare Melissia this extra punishment before her arrival at Nova Magus. Drachius’ argument was strong and before he could stop himself the Tribune heard himself giving the order for the girl to be lashed immediately.

 

Melissia was lying uncomfortably on some leafy ground under a large oak tree and her four guards were staring at her nakedness. She was in too much pain to goad them this night and simply glared back at them. She had been denied the lotion given to her earlier and now the burns to her inner thighs began to cause her more distress.

 

She heard Drachius approach and give orders for her to be strung up to a branch above her head.

 

“What are you doing?” She protested vehemently, trying in vain to struggle against the strength of the four soldiers as they manhandled her.

 

“The Tribune said I was not to be whipped this night!” She went on.

 

Drachius gripped her throat.

 

“That is where you are wrong little girl!” Tonight will be just for you, me, these four soldiers and this!” The centurion held out a whip in front of Melissia’s face and laughed, as did the four guards.

 

The branch of the tree had been pulled down to meet Melissia’s outstretch arms. Each of her ankles were secured to a stake in the ground. Then the branch was released stretching her body taut. Melissia made a delightful spectacle, the sheen of her light brown body, her distended ribs topped off by her exquisite breasts. This vision had caused delirious swellings in the groins of her tormentors.

 

The guards drew back to give Drachius space to weald his whip. Melissia’s eyes flashed defiance at the whipmaster daring him to do his worst.

 

“Tonight is your punishment for all the insults you have hurled at my men and myself these past few days you little heathen. And do not look to your Tribune to rescue you from this one, he himself ordered this!” The centurion uncoiled the whip.

 

Melissia’s mind was in turmoil, she had not expected any more whippings before the ordeal she would surely endure at Nova Magus. What had changed the Tribune’s mind since yesterday? Her body was already racked with pain and now she was to suffer even more. Melissia snapped out of her thoughts as Drachius landed the first lash squarely across both her breasts catching the tip of one nipple. Breath flew out of her and she gave a stifled sob, the pain radiated down from her chest and into her abdomen. She struggled against her bonds to no avail; she was totally at the mercy of the powerful centurion who was relishing every moment of her anguish.

 

As she was getting her breath back from the first lash another landed across her abdomen, this blow produced an even louder sob from her. The tip of the whip had snaked around her hip and raised a painful welt to the top of her left buttock joining the other marks from her previous encounter with Drachius and his dreaded whip. Melissia tried in vain to ride the torturous blows of the lash but she was suspended so tightly all her efforts were futile. Lash after lash rained down on her writhing body, producing tormented screams from Melissia, her breasts, ribs, abdomen and thighs now bore a criss-cross of painful welts, she prayed for unconsciousness.

 

Antoninus lay on his cot trying to shut out Melissia’s screams of agony. His mind was in torment, Drachius’ words went round and round in his head. Was he right? Has this Pagan Princess captivated him? Again Melissia’s shrill screams tortured his ears, the incessant crack of Drachius’ whip as it found the girls soft flesh caused him to wince. After what seemed like an eternity Melissia’s screams ceased but the whipping continued.

 

Drachius goaded by the four guards continued to flog Melissia’s unconscious body. She just hung from the tightly sprung tree branch, her body bathed in sweat and bearing a patchwork of welts from her neck down to her ankles. Her head hung to one side clearly not feeling anything now.

 

“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” The Tribune bellowed at his centurion, grabbing the trailing whip and pulling it from Drachius’ grip. “Can you not see she is no longer feeling your blows Drachius?”

 

 

The centurion was incensed by his leaders interference and replied through gritted teeth.

 

“As I said before Tribune, we would do well to present her to the Consul with a fine set of crimson welts!”

 

Antoninus replied angrily. “And would you care to experience the Consul’s wrath if we presented him with a dead body?” The Tribune raised a quizzical eyebrow to his centurion.

 

Drachius conceded that maybe his leader was correct and ordered for Melissia to be taken down. “Yes Tribune you a right, I think she has learned an important lesson today and that is she cannot insult my men and myself and not receive retribution!”

 

Antoninus put his hand on his centurion’s shoulder. “Drachius she will receive all the retribution Rome can offer once she is put before the Consul, mark my words well.”

 

Drachius headed his words. “Then let us proceed with all speed when day breaks Tribune, I feel her army may not be far away, we could do well without their interference!”

 

Later that night Melissia awoke in a delirium, she drifted in and out of consciousness and her head swam as she felt constant rising nausea. This latest session under the lash had been brutal, she felt close to death. Every part of her body cried out in stinging pain, the burns to the insides of her thighs gave out agonising pulses of heat. Rivulets of perspiration ran off her skin as she thrashed about in agony.

 

The Tribune had given orders for her to be placed inside one of his command tents and had doubled the guard on her. He was troubled by the deterioration in her health, troubled by his feelings for her and most of all, troubled that she seemed to be dieing. It did not bother him now what the Consul would think if presented with a dead prisoner, now he was bothered about Melissia. His mind was in turmoil, he felt like a traitor to Rome allowing this woman to take over his very being; he felt she had possessed him.

 

Antoninus sent for his personal physician to attend Melissia. The physician wondered how anyone could inflict these terrible things to such a beautiful creature as the one laid out before him. Lovingly he covered her body with cold damp compresses in an effort to bring down the consuming fever that was burning within her. The physician informed the Tribune what he did not want to hear, that the girl was near death.

 

“She is in deep shock Tribune.” Said the physician, looking genuinely concerned for his patient. “I will give her a potion that will put her into a deep sleep, her body needs to recover and must not be troubled by consciousness. Her survival will rest upon her own will to live.”

 

“Thank you.” Said Antoninus “I value your skill, I think this woman’s will to live will surpass all our expectations, I have no doubt about that. It is a pity however, that our efforts may be in vain as the Consul has plans to torture her to death should she survive this trauma!” The Tribune watched as his physician administered his potion and then dismissed him.

 

Antoninus mopped Melissia’s fevered brow, his heart sank to see her like this and he felt he had been instrumental in destroying a thing of beauty. Even near death she brought out intense desire and lust in him.

 

“May the gods strike me down if you die Melissia.” He whispered under his breath.

 

Melissia opened her eyes and tried to focus through the red mist.

 

In a broken voice she said. “G..gi..give me your sword Tribune and I will spare your gods that task.” With that she drifted into total unconsciousness.

 

Antoninus’ heart seemed to leap from his chest when she spoke. He replied to the sleeping enchantress before him.

 

“You brave brave young woman, it seems nothing can dampen your spirit. If you survive this I will gladly give you my sword so that you may extinguish the life from me.” His words fell on deaf ears as Melissia slid into the darkest of voids.

 

The Tribune stayed with her the entire night, lovingly mopping her body, applying lotion to her welts and burns totally transfixed by her beauty.

 

The next morning Antoninus awoke to loud trumpeting sounds coming from the edge of the camp. Bleary-eyed he went outside and was met by his general Honorius Plexus complete with fifty men of the Consul’s personal guard. He saluted his general and took him inside the command tent to see his captive.

 

The general gazed at the unconscious girl. “It would seem you have done the Consul’s work for him Antoninus?”

 

The Tribune shuffled uncomfortably. “She was impudent and loose tongued, she goaded my men with derisory remarks. I felt certain punishments were in order General.”

 

“Quite so Antoninus, in your position I would have done the same.”

 

Honorius looked more closely at Melissia. “She looks so innocent like this, hard to imagine this little girl leading an army of savage warrior women, why there is nothing of her.”

 

Antoninus’ confidence grew. “She has been trained well Honorius, she and her army have learned our battle tactics and she speaks several tongues fluently, including our own.”

 

The general raised his eyebrows and ran his fingers over the girl’s skin feeling the array of raised welts on her abdomen. Honorius salivated. “Magnificent specimen of womanhood Tribune, if she lives we must quiz her as to who her teacher was. Whomever it is they are a danger to Rome and must be brought to task as quickly as possible.”

 

Eager to please his general Antoninus replied. “Then we must hope the girl lives so that we may question her more thoroughly.”

 

“Yes indeed Tribune!” The general nodded enthusiastically.

 

“I will arrange for her to be transferred by litter for the remainder of the journey to Nova Magus. Then whilst there she will be nursed back to health so that she can face an inquisition.”

 

*******

 

Petronius Arius looked down on the prisoner who had just arrived and was lost in his thoughts.

 

‘How could this whelp of a girl have caused so much grief? Here before him was the torn and bloodied body of a pagan girl born of a Saxon King and Queen. Because of her injuries he failed to see the former beauty of the girl. He dearly wanted to know how she acquired her fighting and strategy skills and how it came about that she knew so much of Roman battle tactics?’ So many questions remained unanswered.

 

He wanted to know the name of her tutor, for this tutor was initially responsible for all the carnage that had ensued to this very day. He vowed in his mind that he would extract this information by every means possible from this flayed and bloodied pup that lay before him.

 

The Consul sent for his personal physician and ordered that he attend to this very ‘special’ prisoner. “I want her brought back to the very pinnacle of health!” He ordered. “I cannot have her expiring on me at the very first question.”

 

The Consuls physician surveyed his task, laying before him on a crude cot in the cell assigned to her was the bruised and torn body of Melissia. The physician looked upon the handiwork of Drachius with utter dismay. For he was a man who liked to heal people and he could not comprehend how one human being could inflict such suffering on another. Now here he was, ordered to heal this bruised, bloodied and battered creature. So once again they could torture and mutilate her. He felt like administering a poison so she would be spared the ordeal that lay ahead of her. Then again it would be he who would take her place if she should die in his keeping, he thought better of it.

 

As the days passed Melissia started to come out of her delirium, her head still swam and she felt for one fleeting moment that the handmaiden swabbing her fevered brow was her lieutenant, Helena.

 

For the physician, healing Melissia had become a labour of love as the true beauty of his patient began to blossom once more. He dismissed the handmaiden and carried on with the mopping of Melissia’s brow.

 

“That girl.” Whispered Melissia in a trembled voice. “Who is she, I know her do I not?”

 

The physician put a finger to his lips and urged her not to speak.

 

“Rest little lady, do not worry yourself with the identity of handmaidens, they are of no importance.”

 

“But, but……I know her.” She insisted.

 

“You cannot know her Melissia, how could you? She is nothing but a palace slave.”

 

Melissia lay back and cooed at the delicate touch of this wonderfully kind and gentle man. “You have tended me for days now and I do not even know your name, what is it?”

 

“It is of no consequence Melissia but if you must know it is Ithicus.”

 

“So Ithicus…..” Trilled Melissia. “What is to become of me? Shall I make a guess?”

 

The physician’s brow furled.  “Let us not speak of it now little lady, we must make you well.”

 

“For what?” Countered Melissia. “So that I can be put to the question, so once again I will be the cruel sport of those cruel centurions. So my flesh can be torn from my bones, is that your desire?”

 

Melissia’s questions were relentless and Ithicus had no answer for her. “Worry not Ithicus, I do not hold you responsible for my current predicament. If it were not for my desire for vengeance neither of us would be in this position now, I do not place any blame on you.”

 

“Oh what a noble creature you are Melissia, indeed you are the Princess of all Princesses and I feel nothing but utter contempt for myself for being the coward that I am.” A tear trickled down from the corner of Ithicus’ eye.

 

Melissia reached up and wiped the tear away. “You are no coward Ithicus, you are simply a man doing his duty, nothing more nothing less.” With that Melissia drifted back into a fitful sleep.

 

Melissia finally screamed. It was different from the sound torn from her under torture -- deep, throaty, insistently alive. On her third scream a name was almost torn from her. She began to cry out Helena's name, for it had only been from her beloved that she had felt such transcendent pleasure. Melissia stifled the cry, instantly perceiving the risk. Through the miasma of her rapture, she dimly perceived a foreshadowing. They would spare no effort to force her to scream out names under much different circumstances.

She chuckled to herself; Ithicus had given her practice at being tight-lipped under such circumstances.

 

She thought of Helena. Her body and soul shook simultaneously, in perfect rhythm. She kept the vision of Helena before her. She wondered, for a split instant whether that vision would sustain her under the torture to come. Then her universe split; only impossibly intense pleasure remained. She had experienced so much sensation since presenting herself at the camp, but she had not imagined this sensation. She screamed one, final, endless time as Ithicus' expertise in her intimate geography fiendishly prolonged her now convulsive pleasure. She swooned - not in and out of consciousness, but in and out of an enhanced consciousness a higher place of purpose clarity certainty. In the final seconds, he tested her capacity for pleasure and she passed the test -- almost killing him in the process as she bucked and writhed, and wrapped her powerfully athletic legs around him. Then -- perfect peace; the convulsions becoming delicious shudders; the ecstasy coming back unexpectedly in waves and then even more delightful ripples, long after she thought it should have passed.

 

Ithicus lingered in her most private place, relishing it as the supreme goal of manhood to explore and service those incomparable inches. In the course of perfecting his craft he had visited inhospitable regions. Melissia was paradise. Defying his physician's craft, he had long since learned that every inch of her invited, seduced, and rewarded the explorer. He slowly disengaged; kissing his way to her mouth; inhaling her musk and flicking off her sweet sweat with his still dexterous tongue. As he approached her mouth, Melissia roughly took hold of his face with strong fingers and kissed him deeply, urgently. Now it was her turn to put her tongue to work and she did so with superhuman skill.

 

Several minutes later Melissia sighed with perfect contentment, she smiled and pointed to Ithicus' throbbing -- flopping might have been the better term -- phallus.

 

"I can help you with that thing. He needs some attention".

 

"I am the physician here Melissia. You will take my prescriptions.”

 

"And so you have healed me". She stretched. The blanket fell from her. He gasped at her perfect beauty; rippling muscles; taut abdomen. With her eyes, she invited him to devour her with his. She flicked his leg playfully with one curled foot. Some scars remained visible, but Melissia had somehow appropriated them to enhance her beauty. The traces of torture only underscored her strength; the lines decorating and not vandalizing her unique architecture. She continued:

 

"I am perfectly healthy now, protected from their inquisition only by your lies." She laughed affectionately. "You are a fraud, Ithicus". A frown crossed her brow. "I will not have you risking yourself like that dear friend".

 

He fought back a sob. "How can I hand such perfection," he gestured helplessly at the body that had so exceeded his most outrageous expectations of the human form -- "over to their torturers. Unless --"

 

Melissia cut him off. "We've had this discussion before."

 

"But wait -- Antoninus has been working on the Proconsul. This would not be the first time a foreign foe had been turned to their use. There is opposition to be sure -- you killed many Romans. But if you give them their names; sign what they want you to sign; it could be months before they decide what to do with you. I want to pleasure you. I want to capture your form in my sculpture. I want --"

 

"Sweet Ithicus, if I do what they want then my form is hollow. Do not disappoint me -- you of all people. I love my body too, but it is a shell. You love my will and my choices and if I choose as you say, my beauty will fade whatever use is made of that shell."

 

He averted his eyes. He knew she was right. Was she too good for this world? He shuddered for her. He would die for her.

 

She read his thoughts. "No, my loving little man. I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me. But now -- let's put this body to good use, while we still have it to play with". She smiled mischievously. She nudged at his phallus with her toe. It came to life instantaneously. She stared at it for a moment, then her eyes met his, her eyebrow arched suggestively. "Let's see what tricks we can teach this beast". He surrendered to her.

 

Drachius and Honorius conferred not far from Melissia's quarters.

 

"She is too dangerous. She belongs on the cross. I have sworn to pound in the nails myself". Drachius forgot about rank in his orgasm of hate. Honorius considered.

 

"The Proconsul wants names. Then he wants to see how we may use this woman. She may be politically valuable." He spoke the next sentence through clenched teeth. "He thinks she may be useful in training our troops -- my troops!! Anyway, Antoninus has him convinced to crucify her conspirators but use her as a figurehead in our re-pacification".

 

"Antoninus was once a good man -- she's bewitched him. She'll bewitch the Proconsul! I've never seen a woman stiffen so many pricks. But it's worse. She gets to them above the belt".

 

Honorius regarded him thoughtfully. "She has got to you as well Drachius. Do you seek to punish the woman or possess her?"

 

Drachius was momentarily speechless. He proceeded slowly, remembering that Honorius could put him on the cross next to Melissia for an ill-considered remark.

 

"I seek to avenge your men, General. Fallen in battle. Murdered by a treacherous little girl."

 

"So the question is this: will she cooperate?"

 

"Not this one. I've flayed her alive and she screamed prettily enough. But I never broke her. The problem is she may break any man sent to interrogate her".

 

"I don't trust that worm of a physician -- she looks fit enough for another session under the lash."

 

"Hmmm -- you're lucky the Proconsul didn't crucify you for overdoing it the last time. You can understand why he would be risk-averse with this girl's life. I think I have the answer. Your whip will draw Melissia's blood again". At that, Drachius tensed. He felt his penis hardening and hoped it was not obvious to his General. Honorius was inwardly amused but pretended not to notice.

 

"I know a woman who can supervise her interrogation. The woman, Fulvia, is cousin of Messalina who was banished to the provinces for exceeding her in beauty, cunning and ruthlessness. She is the Proconsul's lover; ambitious and sadistic. If she gets us our names --- all to the good, the Proconsul will be pleased. We will have time enough to plot Melissia's downfall with her help. If the wench is stubborn -- she will expire under your tender caresses. I will plant the idea with Fulvia and she will advance our agenda in the Proconsul's bed-chamber."

 

"Excellent battle-plan General. What do we do about Ithicus?"

 

"We rack him until he signs a clean bill of health for this girl. Then, my passionate friend…" (he permitted himself an ironic glance at Drachius' bulging, throbbing member) "our stubborn disobedient Melissia will be entirely yours. Except I caution you -- Fulvia is more than your match in her love of inflicting pain".

 

"General! I look forward to the challenge…." 

 

They came for him in the early hours, Ithicus was dragged protesting vehemently all the way to the palace dungeons. They wasted no time, he was stripped naked and placed on the rack.

 

He trembled as Drachius stood over is prone and vulnerable body.

 

“I have just one question for you Ithicus, is the girl well enough to be put to the question?”

 

“In my opinion she is not Centurion.” Said the physician dreading what was coming next.

 

“The last time I set eyes on her she looked well enough.” Countered Drachius.

 

“Looks can be deceiving sir, she has some way to go yet.”

 

“Ithicus, spare yourself from this unpleasantness, tell me the girl is now in full health, give me a document confirming it and you will receive just a few lashes for your deception.”

 

“I reiterate sir that in my expert opinion she is far from well.” Ithicus new full well that this was not the answer they wanted and hoped he would be strong enough to withstand their tortures.

 

“I have no time for your games Ithicus, I want you to release Melissia for questioning, I feel you and she are playing us for fools and you both will pay dearly for it.”

 

With that the Centurion nodded to the dungeon master who in turn gave the signal for his men to turn the wheel that tightened the rack chains. Ithicus quickly felt the wrist and ankle cuffs tighten.

 

“Stop this infamy at once!” Yelled Ithicus. “You will surely answer to the proconsul for harming his physician!” The physician felt the first burning pains in his joints as the wheel continued to turn.

 

“The proconsul will not come to your aid Ithicus, he wants information from Melissia without further delay, there is no more time for niceties.”

 

The wheel continued to click wrenching a piercing scream from the physician. The pain from his tearing cartilages plus having hot irons run up and down his body quickly broke his resolve. Having been broken he was dragged over to a nearby table and made to sign a parchment giving Melissia a clean bill of health.

 

Drachius picked up the freshly signed parchment. “If only we could break that Pagan bitch as quickly as you physician but I fear she will lead us a merry chase.” Drachius made to leave, turning to the master of the dungeon he left orders for Ithicus to be lashed for his deception towards the Empire.

 

Petronius Arius studied the document releasing Melissia for torture. Fulvia his beautiful mistress stood by his side. She was just 25 years old and had the most perfect body which was topped off with a mane of beautiful jet black hair. Her skin bore the natural olive colour that was common in Romans. Fulvia was totally bored with this Saxon Isle, were it not for the proconsuls attentions she would have returned to Rome a long time ago. She hated its climate and its savage people. Her forte was pain and suffering followed closely by a veracious need for sex in any shape or form. She relished in the torment she inflicted on any that dared to stand up to her or resist her in any way. Now something else of interest was afoot, a new challenge, this infamous pagan girl that caused such a stir to all that came into contact with her.

 

She looked on with interest as Petronius studied the parchment in his hands. “What is she like this girl, this Melissia?”

 

Petronius looked up. “She is very much like you Fulvia, strong in body and spirit, she captivates all with her gaze, she can melt a man with those eyes of hers. My centurions have all denied it but I can see it in their faces. Especially Antoninus, he thinks we can turn her to our side. I cannot blame him for I have seen her since her recovery and I too have felt myself being drawn in by those eyes.”

 

Fulvia felt a pang of jealousy. “Then we had better pluck them out my lord before she can do any more harm with them.”

 

“Yes that is one answer to the problem Fulvia but I fear it will not solve what she has inflicted upon the empire. She has been trained most cleverly and has passed on this knowledge to all her subordinates. They still roam this Isle even as we speak inflicting heavy losses on our armies.”

 

Fulvia looked deep into the proconsuls eyes. “Let me have her Petronius, I will make the little wretch tell all.”

 

This is a delicate matter Fulvia, my soldiers want to see her suffering for themselves and I feel I owe it to them for what she has done to their pride.”

 

“So she is to be questioned before an assembly my lord, is that your final word on the matter?” Fulvia looked disappointed.

 

Petronius thought for a moment then looked at Fulvia. “By all means go and see the creature and sow the seeds in her mind of what is about to happen to her, the more fear she holds in her heart at the beginning of all this the better, what do not think?”

 

Fulvia felt her heart leap with excitement, for she truly enjoyed the suffering of fellow beings. Especially when it was she who administered it. She had been reminded many times that this was abnormal in a woman but she dismissed their ramblings. “Ah yes Petronius let me prepare her for what is to come, I will make her tremble with fear, it will make the inquisitors task a little easier.”

 

Fulvia gathered up two of her loyal bodyguards and bade them take up position outside Melissia’s quarters. As she turned the key in the heavy door she turned to the guards.

 

“Only enter if I call for you, is that understood.”

 

The two men nodded and watched the proconsul’s mistress enter the pagan girls quarters.

 

Melissia was worried for she had not heard from Ithicus for some hours. He had never left her for so long in the past, her feelings told her something was wrong. She tried to ease her fears by taking a bath in scented oils. On exiting her bath she tied a silk loincloth about her waist and covered her chest with a light halter necked top. She heard the door of her quarters open and her heart leapt with relief, as she believed her beloved Ithicus had returned at last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Melissia stared at the voluptuous woman standing before her; Fulvia’s body stirred something inside her.

 

“Who are you and what has happened to Ithicus?”

 

Fulvia delighted in Melissia’s obvious discomfort on seeing her. “Worry not about your physician my girl, he is the least of your worries at this time.”

 

“Ah your very demeanour tells me something has happened to him.” Melissia took a step towards Fulvia fists clenched.

 

“Take not a step further Melissia it will not ease the situation you find yourself in here.”

 

“I presume you have not come here alone lady, someone like you would never dare do that.” Melissia did not want to antagonise this woman until she had knowledge of who she was and what she wanted.

 

“It is true what they say about you Melissia, you must learn to control your aggression for it does not become you.” Fulvia was happy that she did not have to call the guards just yet.

 

Melissia calmed herself. “So are you going to at least tell me your name before you have me dragged off to face my fate?” Melissia’s in-built haughtiness had returned once more.

 

“My sweet girl, there are so many questions written on that pretty face of yours. My name is Fulvia, I am a close friend and associate of the proconsul here on this dreadful rock you call Briton.”

 

Melissia began to feel contempt for this woman. “Well it’s not much but we like to call it home, and by the way it is our home and not yours, but then again I suppose you have noticed that? Tell that to your precious Arius next time you straddle him.” Melissia enjoyed her dig at Fulvia and relished scoring the first verbal blow.

 

Fulvia relished the girl’s obvious fire at first hand and knew that this was going to be a battle of wills between them. “I shall be telling him a lot more by the time I am finished with you Melissia believe me.”

 

“Now I get it,” retorted Melissia. “You are going to be the one who butters me up before they hand me over for crucifixion.”

 

“Dear Melissia I shall be doing more than buttering you up as you call it, I shall be doing some roasting as well. When I warm up that delightful backside of yours you will wish you had never been born with it!” Fulvia delighted at the reaction in Melissia’s face.

 

“Well while you are attending to it you can kiss it because that is all you will get from me lady.”

 

“I have never failed to get the guests in my chambers to sing their hearts out my dear and you shall be no exception.”

 

“Then let us not dally any more with mindless banter, do with me what you will, you are boring me.”

 

“Very well Melissia you quite obviously have very little survival skills and are quite suicidal, I expected more from you. Drachius will be attending to you this evening; I will attend to you tomorrow. Personally I would not like to be in your skin these next few days. Your punishment will not be quick Melissia, it is all going to be long and painful, I pity you.”

 

Melissia tried to suppress a shiver at Fulvia’s words. She had not reckoned for another session with Drachius just yet. Then to be quickly followed by a session of god knows what from Fulvia did not bare thinking about.

 

She snapped out of her negative thoughts. “Ah dear sweet Drachius how is he these days? I have missed him so much.”

 

“You do not fool me with your false bravado Melissia, enjoy your evening I shall expect you in the morning, a little worse for wear I should imagine.” With that Fulvia left the room.

 

Outside Fulvia instructed the guards to give Melissia a few minutes to reflect on what had been said then they were to deliver her to Drachius.

 

Melissia pined for Ithicus; she just knew something had happened to him, she just prayed he was still alive. As for her? Well she knew full well that they wanted to give her a slow lingering and painful death. ‘I just need to hold out for just a little longer.’ She thought to herself.

 

“We meet again pagan bitch.”

 

“Well hello to you too Drachius, how is the world treating you these days? I personally have been having a ball.”

 

Drachius could hardly contain himself with her sarcasm; he fought inwardly not to let this girl get the better of him. He knew deep down he was no match for her verbal skills; after all he was just a simple soldier.

 

“I will ignore your flippancy Melissia for it will be I who will win out in the end. The road before you is going to be a long and painful one and I shall be there to watch you take every step of it.”

 

“Fine with me muscle head but watch out for diversions, things are not all they seem.”

 

Drachius could not help but admire the audacity of this brazen girl, what on earth was she on about now?

 

“Enough pleasantries Melissia, you are here to answer a few nagging questions.”

 

With that the centurion pulled Melissia over to a crude looking wooded contraption in the middle of the room. She stared at it wondering what on earth it was.

 

“I cannot offer you a seat girl but I can offer you a ride on my horse, it is like no other horse you will ever see.” Drachius laughed at his own joke

 

He is right thought Melissia she had not seen anything like it before but as it was blood stained she knew full well that it was an instrument of torture.

 

Drachius grabbed her and tore off the flimsy clothes she had been wearing leaving her totally naked.

 

“Oh Drachius I thought you might have learned some lessons by now on how to treat a lady, you are so informal.”

 

Drachius gave her a mighty slap across her face for her ever-increasing insolence. He was annoyed with himself once again for his loss of self-control. Melissia picked herself up off the floor wiping the blood away from her mouth. This time she said nothing.

 

While she was still dazed Drachius pulled her hands behind her and tied her wrists tightly with a strong piece of leather thong. He then lifted Melissia up and put her astride the wooded horse. The sharp pinnacle of the horse bit deeply into the folds of her vagina causing her to gasp. He then pulled her arms up behind her and attached the long strand of leather to a beam above Melissia’s shoulders.

 

Drachius took a step back to admire his handy work. “What, nothing to say girl? Do you not like my horse?” He was laughing quite loudly now.

 

He was right Melissia was quite speechless at the predicament she now found herself in. Her own body weight was pulling her down hard onto her pelvic mound, it was a pain she had never experienced before and she found it to be excruciating in the extreme. She could hardly draw breath it was so bad, the more she struggled the more it hurt.

 

“You will find if you keep still it will be less painful Melissia but I have no intention of letting you keep still on my horse.” He then produced his beloved whip much to Melissia’s horror.

 

“I want to hear your pretty screams now girl and if in the mean time you would like to answer a few questions then please feel free to do so.”

 

Melissia was too preoccupied with the fiery pain emanating from between her legs to hear anything that was being said to her.

 

Drachius stripped off his tunic exposing his well-muscled torso, he stood before her in his breeches pulling the wicked looking whip through his hands.

Melissia admired his physique but it was a fleeting admiration as the first blow of his fearsome whip struck her soundly across her stomach. The pain it caused was two fold, for it caused her to violently move her body thus she experienced the ever-increasing burn from her vagina and the sharp severe pain from the lash.

 

Just as Melissia was about to add to the sarcasm another blow from the whip caught her squarely across her chest. Drachius was clearly enjoying his work. A large red wheal formed across her breasts, the double pains she was experiencing literally took her breath away. ‘What kind of man gets his rocks off doing such things to a woman.’ She thought to herself. She did not know what pain to concentrate on first, the one between her legs or her chest.

 

Several more blows reigned down on her and her body began the process of shutting down. Her head began to spin and she felt herself drifting into unconsciousness, to her it was a blessed relief.

 

Drachius could not help but notice she was losing consciousness. ‘She has grown soft since being with Ithicus.’ He thought to himself as he admired the criss-cross of welts he had left on her skin. He knew deep down he would get nothing out of her accept a tirade of caustic remarks. So he decided he would leave her over night sat on the wooden horse. It would be interesting to witness her reaction to the pain from it in the morning.

 

                                         

 

As dawn broke over the Roman Palace Melissia stirred from her fitful sleep. Her groin and legs felt numb; in fact she could not feel them at all. Her arms were still pulled high up her back and she was still sat astride Drachius’ infernal contraption he called a ‘horse.’ The welts across her breasts and abdomen burned like hell, she had not been spared that pain.

 

She heard the turning of keys in a door lock, the door creaked loudly as it opened, then two guards walked in.

 

“The bitch is awake,” she heard one guard say.

 

“Get her down,” said the second one, “The Lady Fulvia awaits her company.”

 

The leather was loosened and they lifted her roughly off the horse. As soon as the pressure was taken off her crotch the numbness disappeared. When the feeling to the area returned Melissia was subjected to the most excruciating pain imaginable. She could not help but let out a shrill scream, her agony excited the guards.

 

“This is nothing to what the Lady Fulvia has in store for you bitch, if I did not hate you so much I would pity you.” Said the first guard.

 

Melissia sucked in some air. “Let’s cut the small talk please Fulvia is expecting me to have breakfast with her, it would be rude to keep her waiting.”

 

The second guard punched her squarely in the abdomen and Melissia fell heavily at the feet of the first who then kicked her in the ribs.

 

“Will this bitch ever learn to keep her mouth shut?” Said the first guard.

 

With that they dragged Melissia’s limp body to Fulvia’s quarters.

 

Fulvia was angry with the two guards. “It is I who will be inflicting the pain here not you two meat heads.” She screamed.

 

Fulvia examined Drachius’ handy work. ‘Hmmm..’ she thought to herself. ‘He has made clever use of the horse, how admirable.’

 

She guessed the girl had given them all a fair amount of lip judging from the bruising about her body.

 

Sitting in the middle of the room were two large wooden wheels coupled together with wooden slats. Imbedded in the slats were pointed metal studs. It stood the height of two people. Next to it stood a glowing brazier with hot irons sticking out from the top of it. The very sight of it made the guards shudder. Melissia was too dazed to take any of her surroundings in.

 

“Seize her up,” commanded Fulvia.

 

With that the two guards placed Melissia’s limp body on the wheel. Her ankles were shackled to chains at the base that in turn were imbedded in the ground. Her wrists were shackled and chained high above her head further up the wheel.

 

Melissia tried to take in what was happening to her, she looked anxiously around her and realised with abject horror that she was being racked. As soon as the wheel turned her body would go up around the wheel but as her feet were shackled at the base she would in fact be stretched between the two sets of shackles. This to her was the worst fate imaginable, being torn limb from limb did not appeal to her one little bit. She tried to struggle then felt the sharp pain of the metal studs in her back.

 

“You unspeakable bastards!” she yelled.

 

Fulvia smiled. “Now you realise that all this is not a joke little lady, we want answers from you and we intend to get them.” Fulvia salivated at the sight of Melissia’s pert breasts with their hard nipples. She noticed the shiver in her body. ‘Now she is afraid,’ she thought to herself.

 

“I would imagine just being up on my wheel is painful enough, just imagine what the pain will be like when it is turned?”

 

Melissia looked down at Fulvia who was literally salivating at the sight before her. “You truly are one monster of a woman but do you not think my death will be swift when you tear me limb from limb?”

 

“My dear girl I have no intention of doing that, I just want you stretched tight before me then I am free to use my other friends on you.”

 

With that Fulvia pulled one of the glowing red-hot irons from the brazier. “These are the items that will have you singing like a song bird.”

 

Melissia’s mind raced back to the time in the stable when Antoninus had used them on her. The pain had been so appalling she did not have the words to describe it. Now here she was about to suffer it once more. She wondered to herself what she had done to deserve such a fate.

 

She was aroused from her thoughts by the loud clanking of machinery, suddenly the shackles tightened and her body was stretched taught the metal studs bit into her back. The sinews in her arms and legs began to feel like they were on fire, her spinal chord sent out the most excruciating signals of pain. She felt she was entering hell.

 

Melissia’s screams could be heard throughout the building, the soldiers smiled. Soon she will be ours they thought. They had planned her fate right down to the last detail. They were going to rape her to within an inch of her life then she would be nailed to a cross at the gates of the city. Some wanted to impale her but had second thoughts because her death would be too quick.

 

“You scream so prettily Melissia and I have not even started yet.” Torturing this girl was going to be even more pleasurable than she had imagined, thought Fulvia.

 

Melissia’s body was bathed in sweat; she was stretched so tightly she could hardly breath. She saw Fulvia remove one of the hot irons from the brazier once more, she clenched her teeth, and her head was filled with shear terror. ‘Brace yourself for the most terrible pain imaginable,’ she thought to herself.

 

“I am going to be very nice to you Melissia, just give me the name of your tutor and all this will stop. I shall be dreadfully disappointed but a name is more important to me at this time. Quickly now before this iron cools too much.”

 

Melissia looked down, and then spat at Fulvia.

 

“How very very silly of you girl. Then so be it, I will not stop until you give me a name.”

 

Fulvia placed the hot iron just under Melissia’s left breast and drew it slowly down her body and across her abdomen stopping just short of her pubic mound. Melissia screamed so loudly she almost ruptured her vocal chords. Fulvia did not want her to faint so she lifted the iron off her body and stood back to admire her handy work.

 

                   

“Try not to faint dear girl, you obviously want this to last a long time, I cannot think why but who am I not to grant a pretty girl her dieing wish.”

 

Melissia’s eyes were clenched tight shut; she could barely hear what Fulvia was saying to her. Her main object was to somehow shut out the pain but it was proving impossible, she truly wanted to die. With that she felt the iron being raked once more across her torso. Fulvia was truly a master at this, she knew exactly when to lift the iron from her skin.

 

Fulvia passed the iron for the third time across Melissia’s quivering body, something exploded inside her head, she heard herself screaming the name “Arnold! His name is Arnold, in the name of all that is holy lift that iron from my body!”

 

Her voice had been reduced to a croak with too much screaming. Her whole body shook and was racked with pain. Fulvia had broken her she could take no more.

 

**************

 

“And she informed you where this Arnold can be found?” The proconsul was delighted with Fulvia’s efforts at interrogation.

 

“Yes she gave me exact details of his whereabouts, a troop of soldiers are on their way there now.” Cooed Fulvia.

 

“I thought this girl would be difficult to break, how was it done?”

 

“Well it was a dual effort between Drachius and myself, but she certainly has a serious aversion to branding irons.”

 

“Yes I heard tell that she has experienced them before at the hands of Antoninus. But well done Fulvia I will see that you are very well rewarded for this.”

 

“We must celebrate with good food and wine my Lord. You seem to have an abundance of serving wenches in the palace?”

 

“Very true, I do not know where the Master of Servants is getting them all from and how much it is costing me, but then again one cannot have too many slaves.”

 

Melissia lay in her cell in a state of delirium; she felt that her skin was on fire. She was aware of the presence of another person in the room. In fact it was another of the proconsuls physicians. He had been sent to attend to Melissia’s latest wounds in the absence of Ithicus who had been returned to Rome to ultimately face banishment. He was a kind man but he was no Ithicus.

 

Melissia stared at him through pain filled eyes. “Ah yet another sent to heal me and ready me for execution?”

 

“Please do not make this any harder for me than it already is my lady.” Like Ithicus this physician did not like what had been done to this splendid looking creature before him.

“Sorry I know this is not your doing but healing me seems all pretty pointless.”

 

Melissa never did find out the mans name but like Ithicus he did his work well and within a few days she felt a lot better. She knew that whoever was sent to capture Arnold would soon return empty handed for it was foreseen that she would break under the combined efforts of Drachius and Fulvia. Would she then be subjected to more brutality? It was more than likely.

 

As she was drifting off to sleep she heard a muffled cry from outside her door, then she heard the sound of keys. As the door creaked open she could see the shadowy figures of several women. “Where have you been I have been having so much fun while I was waiting for you?”

 

Helena stood before her beloved leader trying to suppress a tear at what they had done to her. “Those bastards will pay for this Melissia.”

 

“All in good time my dear friend, tell me is everything in place?”

 

“Yes, fires are being set in the north of the city as we speak, hopefully this will draw the soldiers away so we can attend to the task in question here.”

 

Melissia was impressed by how well the plan had been executed. “How many of us are present in the city?”

 

“Thanks to your delaying tactics over 2000 of our women have infiltrated the city over the last few weeks. They will take down the few remaining guards here and go for the proconsul.”

 

“Excellent! We may not be able to win this war but we can cause immense embarrassment to Rome. Any news of the whereabouts of Antoninus?”

 

“We managed to get word that he was sent up to Caledonia with a legion of troops.”

 

“Dam them, they have denied me my revenge on him.” Melissia angrily paced about the room. “Why did they send a whole legion away?”

 

“Because local hostilities had died down, little did they know we were up to something more cunning.” Helena suppressed a laugh.

 

“You do realise we will bring the might of Rome down on us Melissia.”

 

“Of course I do, but this is our moment, we will have embarrassed Caesar, I would love to be present in the senate when he tries to explain this one to them.”

 

Melissia was interrupted in mid flow by one of the women guerrillas entering the room.

 

“We have the proconsul and his woman.”

 

“Good, take me to them, this is going to be interesting!”

 

Melissia found herself staring at a very red faced proconsul and a seething Fulvia.

 

“You little bitch, you will die screaming in hell for what you have done this day.” Petronius Arius was mortified by the circumstances he now found himself in, as was Fulvia.

 

“Well considering that has been your intention all along Arius I do not think anything has changed much do you?”

 

The proconsul glared at her and detested her smugness. “So what is it you want from me now you have won the day with your bitch army? It will be very short lived I assure you.”

 

“I am not going to harm you as I respect your position, but what I will do is put you aboard a galley for Rome. I think your Caesar will decide your fate.”

 

“And what of Fulvia?”

 

“Now she is a different matter Arius.” Melissia spoke about her as if she were not in the room, for she knew this to be the ultimate insult. “I think a good and bloody flogging would be well deserved, then maybe a session on that beloved wheel of hers would be most befitting.”

 

Fulvia had a face like a wild cat, spitting and hissing hardly able to speak. “You despicable little mare, you will never get away with this.”

 

Melissia turned and faced her. “My dear Fulvia.” She cooed. “I think I already have.”

 

They were interrupted by a commotion outside in the corridor. On investigation Melissia was delighted to see Drachius who was chained head to foot and being dragged along by a posse of her women warriors. He was covered in blood.

 

“He put up one hell of a fight.” Said one of the warriors through blood stained teeth.

 

Melissia smiled. “I would have expected nothing less.” She placed her face just inches from his. “And just what shall we do with you dear Drachius?”

 

Drachius’ pride had been damaged beyond belief and he was passed caring at what was to become of him. He just stared at the gloating Melissia.

 

“I shall have you impaled, after all the idea of doing that to me did cross your mind did it not?”

 

Drachius’ face seemed to drain of all colour. It pleased Melissia that she had thought of something to put fear into this mindless and cruel man. “What a pity Antoninus is not here to witness this. I will just have to picture his face in my mind when he hears of all this. Maybe they will even send him after me, I would look forward to that very much.”

 

 

 

Epilogue.

 

And so it was, Melissia got her revenge. The proconsul Petronius Arius was sent back to Rome and was thrown to the lions in the Coliseum. Fulvia was lashed and racked to within an inch of her life. It had left her a ruined and broken woman. She was taken to an outlying village where she was made to work until she died a few months later from the severe trauma of her wounds.

 

As for Drachius, Melissia kept her promise and had him impaled in the city square of Nova Magus. It had been a gruesome spectacle with Melissia herself pushing a Roman pike into his anus. He was then raised high into the air where the pike penetrated up through his body and out through his shoulder blades. His screams could be heard right across the city. He died many hours later.

 

Many months later Antoninus was once again dispatched to seek out and capture Melissia and her rebel army but this time he did not succeed. They seemed to have melted away into the mist. By now the Romans had become tired of this land and he and the hearts of his men were not up to the task assigned to them. And secretly deep down he wanted this brave and stubborn girl to live out her life in peace for he had been truly smitten with her.

 

The Roman Emperor Nero became more and more insane and eventually stood back and idly watched his city burn.

 

In the far reaches of southern Briton two women lay in each other’s arms. One whispered to the other.

 

“Pleasure me lieutenant, pleasure me like only you can.” For just this brief moment in time Melissia was finally in heaven and in the arms of the woman she loved.

 

As for the future? Well that was in the lap of the gods.

 

 

 

The End