The Senator got through a lot of slaves. He bought them in pairs and when he grew tired of them he sold them in pairs.
The Arab slave traders knew the Senator and his rituals well. The girls had to have different color hair. On this occasion, they had brought him a blonde and a redhead. They sent the redhead in naked and she squatted at his feet with her feet and wrists bound. The Senator grabbed her by the hair and waited for the blonde. If he liked her, he would pull the redhead onto his erect cock and let her suck him and pump him with both hands while he questioned the blonde.
The blonde came in shyly…
“Stand with your feet wide apart and hold your sex lips open!” the Senator ordered. The girl obeyed, pulling her lips apart. The Senator grunted his approval. She was wet. The Arabs had made sure of that by licking her cunt. They also rubbed her clitoris and put their fingers up her vagina to bring down more juice…
“Are you a virgin, slave?” the Senator asked.
“In my ass, Sir.” The Senator looked at the Arabs, who nodded.
The Senator pushed the redhead aside. “Take her away and flog her,” he said to his son, pointing to the redhead. The son led her to an adjacent room, where with the help of two slaves he suspended her upside down with her legs stretched apart, leaving her vagina wide open and defenseless. He flogged the girl brutally on her cunt and tits with a leather strap, and then fucked her mouth until he shot off and filled it with spunk.
In the early Second Century, the Emperor Hadrian passed laws which made it illegal to kill a slave or sell a slave as a prostitute without first going through the courts. Many people found this difficult to believe as there was no difference in their minds between slaves and other kinds of property.
In practice, the new law brought more work for magistrates, who already had the legal obligation to torture slaves because it was supposed that slaves would not testify against their Masters. They would be afraid of being flogged by them. Under torture, the law argued, slaves would tell the truth. Dura lex, sed lex. A hard law, but the law.
On this occasion the magistrates Pius Severus Varus and Gratianus Superbus were hearing the case of a rich woman named Antonia who claimed that the three girls were no use in the house and would be better in a brothel.
They could not cook or clean, she said, and since her husband’s death in Britannia they had become lazy and rebellious. The three of them had attacked her when they were cleaning her by scraping oil off her body. They had scratched her breasts, she said. She could not handle them alone and wanted to sell them to a friend who owned a brothel in Porta.
It was the kind of case that the magistrates and the clerks of court enjoyed. Antonia’s maid removed her Mistress’s robe and the men examined her breasts for signs of violence. They found only insignificant little scratches.
“They scratched the inside of my lips too,” she said. “The lips of my vagina,” she added, unnecessarily. The magistrates and the clerks all examined her cunt lips. They found no scratches, just a wet vagina. “Some of the oil got into your lips,” said the chief magistrate with a smile. Antonia smiled back. She sucked in air as the magistrate fingered her clitoris…
He then ordered the clerks of court to torture two of the three girls. The third, who he found exceptionally pretty, was ordered to strip off and stand near them.
The clerks flogged the two slaves with long leather straps, hitting them hard on the buttocks and breasts. Then they hit the soles of their feet with canes until the girls screamed for mercy.
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Roman Decadence. The Senator.
Women degraded by whips
Praetor Carvonus ran his fingers along the red welts blooming on his Dacian slave’s tiny tits, pinching and scratching them to make the girl’s tiny frame shudder on the cross. Decebalus’s Dacian army had been utterly crushed, and the fine women they had captured were now the spoils of war.
A few feet away a gorgeous blonde woman was struggling to walk as she was forced to hold the heavy wooden pole across her slender shoulders and two centurions whipped at her bare ass.
“Faster honey, I want you lathered up like a horse when I bust your cunt with my cock!” One of the centurions laughed.
“Please, let me fuck you now! I can’t hold this! PLEASE!” She whimpered.
Carvonus smiled, and forced two fingers into his slave’s dry cunt, brutally forcing open her reluctant hole.
“Ngggghhh!” She whined.
The Roman expertly struck her right across her puffy red nipples, driving them back into her chest like hammered nails and watching them rebound, swelling with welts.
“NOOOOOOO!”
The two Romans began alternating their strokes, first across her abused cunt, then across her tits and back and forth it went. Never giving her time to recover, striking her while she was still screaming from the earlier blow. Soon her tits and pussy were completely covered in welts.
“Open up whore, it’s time to swallow some Roman cock. My friend is going to keep whipping your filthy slit until I cum, and if you dare bite me, I’ll have him burn off your clit. Understand?”
The soldier didn’t even wait for her to reply, instead shoving himself balls deep in her throat and groaning with pleasure as she screamed around his cock…
She blinked, her deep eyes gleaming
The place was a simple two-story tract house with a finished basement on a normal suburban street that ran parallel to a main thoroughfare full of mini-malls, big-box stores, and chain restaurants. BDSM Art is here.
In fact, the first thing Claire saw, when her big, wide, eyes opened, was a home goods store in the late afternoon sun. That vision gave way to trees, then houses, and finally a two-car garage at the end of a driveway.
Claire’s popping brown eyes shot down to see that her breasts were barely contained by the way her torn shirt was knotted together, her chest flesh bulging out the top, sides, and bottom. What remained of her pleated skirt was pinned at her right hip, becoming little more than a plaid loincloth. Her leggings were m.i.a. but her high heel ankle boots were still tightly covering her feet. She saw the expertly secured straps at her ankles and knees. She could feel the cords at her wrists and elbows.
“You’re supple,” he giggled. “You can put your arms together behind your back as easy as pie. Can’t wait to try a reverse prayer on you….”
She tried to plead with her voice, hands, and body, but all she accomplished was making her tits protrude even more.
“Now, now, don’t beg,” he soothed. “I’ll fuck you again soon enough, I promise.”
Claire slammed back as far away from him as she could, screeching with all her might, tears all but exploding out of her eyes. He just laughed, pulling the van into the garage. He touched the button on the box clipped to the window-shade, and the garage door started lowering behind them. Suddenly Claire realized that she was well and truly trapped, but before the full import could sink in, he was gone, and the driver’s side door was slamming shut. 3D BDSM stories are here!
