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From: "bad badbad" <badbadbad98@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Slavegirl of Rome (Everything but the kitchen sink)
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This is a story of a free and wicked imagination, not to read by anyone 
under whatever the age of adultery is in their locality.
If you do, you should know that slavery, and the sundry sexual 
activities described in the story, is nothing like it in reality. This 
is totally a product of the imagination, not to be imitated. Do not try 
this at home.
For the readers of mature years, who are too warped to be made any worse 
by the story, you will notice it is unfinished. If I get enough positive 
feedback, it continue.
BadBadBadBoy
badbadbad98@hotmail.com




A SLAVEGIRL OF ROME
Even in the heat of the midday of a roman summer day, she shivered under 
the awning. Dressed only in shift that barely covered her nubile body, 
the young girl knew that today, in just a few moments, she would be 
hauled up on the platform, to be offered for sale to the highest bidder, 
to be sold and bought and owned like any other commodity, like a bowl, 
like any kitchen utensil. And she knew enough of men to know that her 
chances of going to sleep as virgin tonight were slim or nonexistent, as 
any probable owner would claim her as his own, her body his sexual 
property, to use and abuse in any way he might possibly imagine. Or she, 
as the case well might be. And then she heard her name called, and two 
brawny handlers, slaves themselves, lumbering hulks of muscle and bone, 
dwarfing her between them, hauled her up on the platform, holding her by 
her arms. They had seen everything in the world, and done most that was 
bad in it .They had been the ones that had pulled her up from the 
dungeon she had spent the night in solitary confinement, groping her 
roughly in the dark passages, but careful not to touch her pussy, a 
virgin so seldom offered for sale they knew that their master would have 
their hide if they in any way imperilled his investment in her. And as 
they held her she gaped at the sea of faces in front of her, people 
covering the whole square, leering faces, stern faces, laughing faces, 
handsome faces, ugly faces , mostly male, a few females, all looking at 
her with undisguised lust and brute desire. And then her owner, the 
slavetrader, the dark saturnine man who had thoroughly and clinically 
felt every part of her, ascertained her virginity, fondled and molested 
her with all the emotion of a fishmonger with his wares, leaving her 
feeling not dirty, but beneath dirt,not a a victim but an object, lifted 
his arm, introducing her to the crowd, and crying out, without seeming 
to draw breath: "WHAT AM I BID FOR THIS EXQUISITE 17-YEAR OLD VIRGIN 
GIRL, THIS SWEET BARBARIAN FILLY ANY MAN WOULD BE PROUD TO OWN AND TAME 
AND TAKE INTO POSESSION, A DELIGHTFUL, DUTIFUL, DELICIOUS PIECE, FIT FOR 
ANY HOUSE ON THE MERE GROUNDS OF DECORATION, BUT FIT FOR SO MUCH MORE, 
GOOD FOR ANYTHING, AND BY THAT I MEAN ANYTHING, GENTLEMEN, AROUND THE 
HOUSEHOLD!!WHAT AM I BID?WHAT AM I BID? WHAT AM I BID FOR THIS LITTLE 
SWEET TREASURE, THIS LITTLE TASTY MORSEL, THIS SPICY LITTLE PACKAGE I 
WAS TEMPTED TO KEEP FOR MYSELF, BUT OFFER TO YOU AS AN UNIQUE OFFER! 
WHAT AM I BID?" And at this she lowers her head, and tries to hide her 
tears, and she fears they might not be hers last this day...At the edge 
of the crowd , close to the platform, so close he might almost look up 
her shift, stands a huge mauretanian merchant, dressed in a toga, a 
roman citizen and he raises an ebony hand. "10 sestercies!" he says, and 
she looks down on him, a tall man, a heavy man, sturdy as a baobab tree, 
and she wonders if he is going to be her new owner, is he the one who 
will bring her home and spread her, and ram his black cock into her 
virgin cunt, is he going to be the one? Or is he simply buying 
merchandise, selling her in the sub-saharan countries, in Kush or Nubia, 
to some noble or king for his harem or his household? "15 sestercies!" 
she hears from off to the side, and she looks and sees a trio of 
germanic mercenaries, pooling their money, veterans of many battles, 
their bodies as scarred as their minds, used to violence and rapine, 
looking to buy some R&R, some little sweetheart of the garrison, a girl 
they can pass from bed to bed in the barracks..."20 I bid!" cries a 
female voice. And almost in the middle of the crowd there is a older 
woman, her painted face proclaiming what she is, a madam from the 
waterfront at Ostia, looking for new talent for her brothel. And if the 
madam buys here, her virginity would be sold to the highest bidder, for 
the privilege of having the first night with her, and then she would be 
rented for the night to the officers of the ships, and later, when worn 
with her duties, she would be rented by the hour to the crew, and 
finally, when she is an old whore in her 20 īies, she would be good for 
nothing but to be tied up and lowered into the black hulls of the ship, 
and throughout the night satisfy whole ships lengths of galley slaves, 
every orifice, every part of her used. "25 sestercies" shouts an old 
lecher, wrinkled, bald, fat and singularly unappealing, trying to buy 
some young flesh to regain youth by fucking a young girl, and then to 
have her as a prize, to show her off and share her with fellow 
reprobates, to have her turn shows with male slaves bought solely for 
their extraordinary equipment, to perform with dogs and donkeys.....And 
she feels so faint, so lost, so helpless, held securely, knowing there 
is nothing she can do, that she sees her fate decided in front of 
her....But the slavetrader frowns, he scowls, he shouts with a scorn 
heard clearly at the back of the crowd: "PITIFUL BIDS! PITIFUL! 
ABSOLUTELY PITIFUL! I WOLD NOT SELL A THREE LEGGED DOG FOR THAT PRICE, I 
WOULD NOT SELL A ONE -LEGGED DOG FOR THAT PRICE! FAR LESS THIS DELICATE, 
SIMPLY SCRUMPTIOUS VIRGIN, THIS HONEY ON TWO LEGS! THE BEST BED 
COMFORTER MONEY CAN BUY! AND YOU EXPECT TO GET HER FOR A PITTANCE LIKE 
THIS?" Before she is aware what he has in mind, he reach out, grasp her 
shift, tears it, ripping it along the seams, tearing it off her, and she 
screams, squirms, completely naked on a platform with hundred of men 
looking at her naked body, and she know that there is not a man among 
them who do not at that moment want to throw her down on the ground and 
fuck her there and then. And she twists and turns, hard hands, strong 
arms holding her, trying to hide, and at the slavetraders bidding a 
third handler comes forward, kneeling down behind her, grasping  her 
kicking legs by the ankles, and she writhes in the grip of the three 
strong bullies, her body suspended between them, moving in desperation, 
her body like a captured eel. And as she is held like that, strong men 
grasping her, all of her bared, all of her exposed, feeling so 
vulnerable, so humiliated as never before in her life, the bidding start 
in earnest.........The men were grinning, three big hard men holding the 
wriggling naked girl between them, holding her arms and ankles, 
spreading her legs, her slim nubile body twisting like a fish out of 
water,as she hears the offers" 50 sestercies" cried the madam, her eyes 
cold as drowned gold coins  at the bottom of the sea, her mouth working. 
"75!" cried the mercenaries, enflamed by the sight of her, one of them 
fondling himself publicly as he watches her twisting helplessly on the 
platform. "I bid a 100 sestercies" cried a new voice, a tall dark 
egyptian, his face locked in a stern expression, as he fondled his 
hippotamus hide whip, sliding it slowly through his hands, obviously 
enjoying the touch of it, his eyes like glowing embers as he watches the 
girl, now giving in to the fear she had lived with since her capture, 
now desperately trying to escape, to run away, at least to pose a 
problem for her handlers. But she does not escape, she does not run 
away, and the three big hard men stretch her out between them, walking 
in a slow circle, as she is displayed to the prospective buyers with no 
respect for her dignity or modesty, her bitter tears falling on the 
scuffed platform, as the slavetrader grasps her hair and lifts her face, 
so she cannot even hide her shame...."100 SESTERCIES IS BID!" he cries, 
and harangues the crowd, who takes it in good humour, laughing at his 
jokes: "100 SESTERCIES! 100 SESTERCIES! IS THAT ALL I AM BID? IT WOULD 
BE A GOOD PRICE FOR A ONE LEGGED, BLIND MESSENGER SLAVE WITH PILES! BUT 
FOR THIS SWEET, EXQUISITE DELIGHT, THIS LITTLE CHERRY TO BE PICKED AND 
EATEN AND SWALLOWED AND ENJOYED.....I ASK YOU, GENTLEMEN, ARE YOU ALL 
MEN WHO PREFER BEARDLESS YOUTHS LOITERING AROUND THE BATHS HERE, SINCE 
YOU CANNOT COME UP WITH A DECENT BID?" And then, and only then, she 
becomes aware of the disturbance.. At first a mere change in the 
constant murmur, like a differing accent joining in the conversation, 
but then she hears the noise rising, the sound of trumpets, the rippling 
thunder of marching feet, voices raised in argument, in orders, in 
shouts of dismay. And like a ship cleaving the waves a covered 
palanquin, carried by eight big nubians, is carried into the square, 
surrounded by troops, proceeded by trumpeters, forcing its way through 
the crowd with no unnecessary kindness, more like an invading army than 
a friendly visit. And she hears the voices, from the brutes holding her, 
from the slack mouth of the slavetrader, from the crowd close to the 
platform, speaking in fear, in loathing, in envy, in worship, in wonder: 
"The emperor? The emperor! The emperor...."And she remembers what they 
say, what she has overheard, of the gossip even the lowest of slaves 
hear: "He is mad, he is bad, he is dangerous to know, he worships dark 
gods, he believes he is a god, he is a dark and evil god, he has wild, 
depraved and pervert orgies in the palace..."and she shivers at being so 
close to him, to be within reach of what must be a slavering beast in 
human flesh if half of what she has heard is within hailing distance of 
the truth. And the covers of the palanquin part, and a slim, pale hand 
beckons, and the slavetrader runs down and prostrates himself, the body 
guards of the emperor frisking him, and giving him a kick in the face on 
general principles for treating civilians.  And from behind the covers 
the emperor asks:  "What is bid for that naked girl, wriggling so 
enticingly on the platform......?""150 sestercies, your divine majesty" 
the slavetrader says, quietly and humbly upping the price 50 %.. There 
is a pause, and it lasts.Then the emperor asks: "How old is she? Is she 
a virgin?" "She is 17, your divine, august majesty, and a virgin. Most 
assuredly a virgin. I sell only the best of merchandise!"A pause. A long 
pause, and in the presence of the emperor and his bodyguards, any pause 
is too long a pause." I bid 300 sestercies" says the emperor "Does 
anyone bid against me?"No one in square felt suicidal enough to move a 
finger. "SOLD!" said the slavetrader "SOLD TO HIS DIVINITY, THE AUGUST 
BENEVOLENT IMPERIAL MAJESTY! And the slim hand reach out again, and 
point  at the girl: "Tonight We are having a small garden party, and We 
thought the forcible defloration of a virgin might make for some light 
entertainment. Bring the girl to the palace, and donīt bother to put on 
those rags again, have her bathed, perfumed, do something with that 
hair, get her dressed for her task and her fate, and bring her to the 
garden at dusk. Chop, chop, somebody, get going, you donīt want to get 
me mad, do you?" And she is passed from the handlers on the platform to 
the strong iron hands of imperial soldiers, walking her quickly naked 
through the streets of Rome, every man, every youth, every boy with his 
voice cracking calling out what he would like to do to her, with her, 
for her......But she is held at arms length, the soldiers suffering no 
interruption, no impingement on the piece of imperial property she has 
become. And in the eyes of these men, of men who have seen cities 
burning, tribes slaughtered, men, women and children killed in brutal 
border wars, who have taken part in the worst of atrocities during civil 
wars, rapists, killers all, they look at her, their charge, and she can 
see the pity in their eyes. For they know what the emperor likes for his 
amusement... And at the palace she sees the pity again, in the eyes of 
the slavegirls bathing her, lathering her with natural sponges and 
scented soaps , running their hands all over her, cleaning her body so 
exquisitely, so intimately she have never experienced anything like it 
before, so soft, so tingling, so disquietingly strange, but in their 
eyes she sees a pity , a fear so strong they seem on the verge of tears 
the whole while, so sad as they look at and feel her brittle innocent 
beauty.And she sees the pity in the eyes of the girl brushing her hair, 
cleaning it, setting it up as if she was a lady at the court. And she 
sees her face reflected in the features of the girl brushing her hair, 
beautiful, attractive, everywhere but in her broken, sad eyes.And she 
sees the pity in the eyes of the tall, bony seamstress dressing her in 
translucent linen, her guard watching her the whole while, at every 
intimate moment of cleaning, of preparing. And she feels the soft, light 
cloth caressing the naked body underneath, her body clean for once, the 
soles of her bare feel cold on the marble as she is rushed through the 
large sprawling palace by her guards.And suddenly she is out of the 
place,in a pleasant, green garden, flowers and  braziers lit with 
aromatic woods scenting the air, and a company of men and woman lies 
around on benches, the emperorīs cronies and parasites, freed slaves and 
senators, depraved youths and old lechers, kinky whores and nymphomaniac 
noble ladies, drinking ,talking, slightly tipsy, their minds set on the 
evenings pleasures of all and any kind. And on a marble throne, in the 
middle of it all, sits a non-descript, slightly puffy faced man, laurel 
wreath at an angle on his brow, his toga striped with imperial purple 
and spotted with falernian wine, and he lifts his head, and look at the 
girl, and his eyes are like reptiles stirring, they have the dull golden 
madness of the male lion, and the brazierīs fire is reflected in the 
unholy fires bleeding from them like venom from from a vipers fangs. And 
the emperor smiles, and claps his hand: "She is here! The new talent! 
Our entertainment!Look sharp, everybody, the evenings little clou is 
here." And he looks her deep into her eyes, and whisper for her ears 
only: "And do We have ideas for you, little one......!"The emperor claps 
his hands: "Put her in the stocks!" he cries. And now she sees the 
stocks, black, set on a low pole, and behind them a horizontal bar on 
two, all poles set deep in the ground. And she is bent over the 
horizontal bar, keeping her hips up, as her wrists and neck is placed in 
the stocks, and they are shut and closed, and as she kicks out at the 
guards, not thinking clearly, just reacting to the fears shivering 
through her, the emperor gives a new command, and plugs are pounded into 
the soil, and her legs spread and her ankles tied to the plugs, keeping 
her immobile, helpless, totally at the disposal of the emperor and his 
party, now growing rowdier as the wine flows. The emperor strokes her 
flanks, her shoulders, now her hips, he put his hands through the 
openings in the gown for her arms and absentmindedly fondles her 
breasts, weighing them in his palms, now twirling her nipples roughly, 
now pulping them, as he speaks: "Ladies and gentlemen, and all the rest 
of you as well, my friends, lend me your ears...I know you are men and 
women, or at least creatures, of wit and imagination. Now we have the 
honour and pleasure of having with us today a young, 17 year old virgin, 
unkissed, unfamiliar with love, a quivering, expectant virgin. She is 
with us, and we have in our power to make her first lovemaking, her 
first real experience of sex,  her first fuck, something special, 
something she will remember forever." He pauses, and she feels him 
remove his mauling hands from her breasts, grasping the hem of her gown, 
lifting it, pulling it upwards, baring her thighs..." So I pose you a 
contest, dear friends.."He pulls the material in her gown from between 
her hips and the bar she is bent forward over, baring her hips, her hard 
buttocks, standing behind her as she are naked below the waist, exposed, 
as he pulls the gown upwards, as she squirms in the stocks, helpless to 
resist..."Whoever can devise the nastiest and most humiliating way in 
which this young girl can experience her first sexual experience, her 
first fuck, does not only get second turn on her sweet, delicate body 
after whatever monstrosity she has undergone, but also a purse of 1000 
sestercies....So let me hear your proposals, dear friends!" As she 
listens in disbelief to his outrageous proposals, he pulls her gown all 
the way up, baring her breasts, draping the gown over the stocks, she 
held so securely, so undignifiedly, as she feels his hand now slowly 
seeking out the soft treasures between her naked, exposed, untouched 
thighs, stroking her, fondling her, molesting her......And from the 
unruly, rowdy crowd, their imagination inflamed by their debauched lives 
and the huge price, the suggestions start to flow: "Let her be brutally 
taken by two slavegirls" proposes one, a slack faced degenerate upper 
class youth with the eyes of an old man "An african and a germanic 
slave, an african woman with hard strong hips and big breasts, black as 
a hot night, and a tall, rangy germanic slavegirl, almost flat, so pale 
her skin is darker than her blonde hair, and let the dark girl wear an 
ivory strap on dildoe, as thick as her fist, and fuck the girl in her 
virgin cunt, and let the blonde girl put on an ebony strap on dildoe, as 
thick as her wrist, and fuck the girl her virgin ass, so we can enjoy a 
wide range of shades of pulchritude in an introduction to carnal delight 
the poor girl most assuredly never will forget" At this an elderly 
senator frowns: "The simplemindedness of youth one can bear, but their 
lack of esthetic appreciation is a daily source of irritation. This 
pimple faced boy does not understand the first and simple principle that 
to really appreciate beauty, you must see its opposite. So I propose as 
the first male to take and use and abuse your slavegirl none other than 
the slave that tends your garden, the hunchbacked, retarded, warty, 
hairy, wrinkled monster that drools and mumbles if you address him. Let 
him take her while we all watch. I saw him bathing in the river once, 
and nature has compensated him for all his other lacking qualities with 
the cock she gave him. To see him wreak his mindless lust on her sweet, 
helpless, beautiful body would most assuredly be a singular occurrence, 
because the contrast between them would be so evident, and a kinky 
experience none of us would see again."From a woman in the crowd there 
come a protest: "Men! Typically men! A complete lack of respect for 
women and their bodies and their lusts. No, what she would need, and 
what would be the best for us as an audience as well, would be....the 
eight nubians that carry your palanquin let loose on her, They are big, 
black men, strongly built, starved of sex, brutal and hard, and give the 
women among us, and also the men who appreciate prime male flesh, 
something to look at as well. And if seeing eight big black men taking 
their turn raping an helpless 18 year old white virgin, one by one or 
more at once, is not good entertainment,  I ask you, what is good 
entertainment?" At this a middle aged man man shakes his head:
"Slaves! She is to good for slaves! Let her be taken by soldiers 
instead! They have surprisingly inventive minds for plebeians, I can 
assure you. And the stories they tell...
(To be continued...)



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