104 AD Part 2
104 AD Part 2
The world seemed to slow down as Sister Margery slipped and tumbled towards the grimy street. She splashed into the puddle and felt cold slime and filth slosh against her naked body. With her restraints, Sister Margery was barely able to break her fall and, by the time she collected her bearings, she had two men in armor standing over her. They looked like guards.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kWymyJYD1b4kTGKQPOEh2T5p3lT-jVxJ/view?usp=drive_link
The first guard grunted, "Veni, servus, sta. Dominus tuus hic est."
Sister Margery opened her mouth to speak but, of course, only a high-pitched moan escaped her cum coated lips. She didn't even understand what he said anyway. A sticky drop slid down her gullet while she struggled to breathe in the muck.
The man in the red tunic emerged from the curious throng. He approached the guards and spoke to them courteously. They responded initially with suspicion, but their demeanor softened the longer he talked. Sister Margery couldn't understand what they were saying, but she kept hearing the man in the tunic saying, 'Servus meus' and 'Stultus meretrix'.
Sister Margery turned in the puddle and attempted to stand. It was difficult due to the slick mud and manure and...whatever else was floating around. It certainly didn't help that she had to contend with cumbersome restraints. She slipped and fell multiple times, much to the amusement of the growing crowd. She resigned herself to slither and roll towards dryer ground while the men continued their discussion. Her body was caked in grime, mud and filth while her hair was wet and matted against her sticky face. She crawled her way to solid dirt and rose onto her scuffed knees. She worked to catch her breath in the tight collar and steady herself. The guards had seemingly concluded their conversation with the man and approached her from behind. Each guard grabbed one of her arms and turned her around while keeping her on her knees. Sister Margery spit a piece of soggy straw from her mouth and coughed as she turned her head to look at the nearby stone staircase.
The guards held her down by the shoulders. Their sinewy arms felt like logs and their grip was like iron. She knew she would have no chance to resist the will of these men, even if she didn't have the heavy restraints attached to her. The guards looked down their noses at her with a mix of lust and disgust while asking her questions in their ancient language. Even if she understood them, she wouldn't have been able to respond so she sighed and stared straight ahead.
Through a cummy, grimy eye she saw a group of four slave girls standing together in front of a doorway. They were the first she had seen wearing any clothing, though their hands were bound, and they had crude signs tied around their necks. Sister Margery didn't even try to turn away as one of the girls looked up at her with a smirk.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XOCmtWVJqStjQCqVx8R5w4SF93NyLLIE/view?usp=drive_link
The smirking woman pulled down the 'underwear' of her clothing and Sister Margery saw a tattoo near her hip bone. It consisted of strange lettering that she couldn't read.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1q-Lbp5QVb3Emx1aBM5-53-GWOrTD8SdZ/view?usp=drive_link
She then turned her wrist and Sister Margery saw another tattoo written in an unknown script.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XB4xSKVVT2Y9wmLauLn9kGbZuJjO_PT8/view?usp=drive_link
A burning sensation began in Sister Margery's hip bone and wrist. She didn't need to look to see what was happening. She didn't wince, didn't react, and simply stared ahead. She was already hardwired to be submissive from multiple layers of historical female experience and identity. Now, her brain was simply taking it to the next level and learning to accept her new role as a slave. She felt as though she was on the same level as all the other slave girls. Her degrading sense of self-worth had accelerated through the ages and was finally catching up with her. With each passing second, Sister Margery considered herself more worthless, weaker, smaller, more dependent and more pathetic.
The guards began speaking a little more forcefully with Sister Margery and their volume and intensity increased. When they still didn't get a response, the guards probably figured Sister Margery simply didn't speak their language and pegged her for a foreign slave girl. The man in the red tunic had likely told them as much, and Sister Margery wasn't exactly convincing them otherwise.
One of the guards reached down and wiped a layer of muck from Sister Margery's hipbone and wrist. He examined her new tattoos and further confirmed what he already suspected. She couldn't read them, but Sister Margery was sure that her new ink designated her as a denizen of the lowest social caste. It let everybody know that she was property, that she had no freedom, that she did not deserve respect, and that she was a slave. She didn't even flinch or resist in any way when the guard slipped his calloused finger into her mouth. He probed around her gums for a few seconds before pulling back.
Sister Margery had every expected characteristic of a slave girl, and the guards appeared thoroughly convinced that she was exactly what she appeared to be. Her lack of teeth and obvious layer of dry semen coating her face gave the guards an even clearer impression as to the [i]KIND[/i] of slave girl she was. They had no doubt that she was a sex slave who had recently provided her toothless mouth to a man.
The guards kept her shoulders secured and pulled her hair back to forcefully lift her gaze. She saw the grinning man in the red tunic standing in front of her. Her chains rattled and her dirty breasts swayed. The guards had seemingly chosen their side!
One of the guards asked the man, "Quod servi nomen est?"
The man in the tunic responded gently, "Marcella nomen eius est."
Marcella waited submissively on her knees as the men discussed her. She could also feel a few dozen sets of eyes watching and judging her current predicament. The conversation between the men became increasingly friendly and the guards no longer seemed skeptical of the man in the red tunic. After a few minutes of discussion, one of the guards stepped away and began rifling through a pack on his back. The other guard took control of both of Marcella’s shoulders though his grip was loose and relaxed. She took the opportunity to bring her shackled hands up to her face to properly wipe the mud and cum from her eye. The heavy shackles jingled as if reminding her of her bondage.
The guard behind Marcella’s shoulders shouted down at her harshly when he heard the shackles and noticed she was moving, “Desine, dixi te non movere, puella!”
He grabbed a handful of Marcella’s dark hair and pulled her backwards. She yelped and winced as he then drove his hand forward and launched her towards the puddle. She landed face-first with a mucky splash and bounced off her tits. The crowd erupted in laughter as she struggled back onto her hands and knees while gasping for air. Her face and body now dripped with all manner of filth, her muddy tits hung beneath her like weighty pendulums and her exposed vagina and asshole were pointed towards the crowd. She felt extremely embarrassed beneath the mocking laughter of dozens of onlookers and the number of spectators only seemed to be growing.
She looked ahead and saw the stone staircase just a few meters away and begging to be climbed. She made a crawling dash for the staircase; hoping that reaching it would end the nightmare. The guard that pushed her quickly pursued her, however, and his heavy boots splashed in the puddle. Before Marcella could even make it out of the mud the guard had secured his fingers around her collar from behind. She instantly stopped fleeing and gagged and sputtered as intense pressure constricted her windpipe. He dragged her back towards the starting point. Marcella hurriedly got onto her hands and knees to crawl next to his leg as crawling in the mud was much less painful than being dragged and it lessened the pressure on her neck significantly. As they neared the starting point, Marcella felt and heard a solid swat on her ass which jiggled and reddened in response. She didn’t dare turn her head out of fear of the guard’s wrath, but she knew someone from the crowd must have been responsible as they erupted in laughter and cheers.
The guard released her collar and propped her back up onto her knees. She felt the dirty water dripping down her body and evaporating in the sun while staying completely still. The last thing she needed was to be thrown a second time- or worse…
The second guard was fiddling with a sheet of papyrus he had procured from his bag. He was standing with the man in the red tunic while scratching at the papyrus with a quill. The two men approached a kneeling Marcella who kept her head down. The guard wiped the new layer of filth away to expose her tattoos before scratching onto his papyrus. He then hefted her breast, tugged at her hair, and stuck his finger in her vagina, ass and mouth (in that order). Each time he examined one of her features he scratched onto his papyrus while under the scrutiny of the man in the red tunic. For her part, Marcella tried her best not to react to his touch. She couldn’t help but wince uncomfortably when he penetrated her most sensitive areas with his finger and forced her to taste it. When the evaluation was finished, both men read whatever had been written and shook hands. The guard then stamped the papyrus with a signet ring and handed the paper to Master.
Master examined the document and looked down at his newly registered sex slave as she kneeled, naked in the mud. He curled the paper up and offered something to the guards in a friendly tone. The guards seemed to agree with whatever he offered and began to disrobe. Marcella shivered on the ground as it became apparent what Master had offered to them.
Her.
Master turned his attention to the crowd and announced something loudly. He appeared to be riling them up and drawing more people in as they began cheering and screaming in anticipation. Marcella flashed a glance at the crowd while the guards were distracted with their clothing. There must have been a hundred people watching! They formed a big circle that was several bodies deep.
With the surrounding mob engaged and growing, Master approached Marcella and turned her head to the side. She saw the guards were naked and standing next to one another. One had a large cock and balls while the other had a micro penis with shriveled balls.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1a1l9u7k63wHjVEFrW_umOrQCAI2MEUh8/view?usp=drive_link
The guards were a little embarrassed with the spectators but, nonetheless, stepped forward. Their dangly bits immediately drew Marcella’s attention as they flopped around and grew erect. Her mouth watered and her pussy felt warm at the sight of male reproductive organs. Her eyes drank in their hard, masculine bodies while her feelings of embarrassment from the crowd and her misgivings about her new status as a slave seemed to fade into the background. Her slutty body was craving dick and nothing else mattered. Master grinned, seeing his property was ready to be used, and took a step back just as the guards descended.
The first guard, with the larger cock, approached Marcella from the front. His size had increased substantially with arousal, and he pointed his hard erection directly at her face. He was at least seven or eight girthy inches! It bobbed subtly in front of her inflated lips. Marcella squirmed with anticipation and leaned forward while opening her mouth submissively. He grunted and suddenly shoved her shoulders with both hands. She fell back into the dirt with a surprised yelp. Her dirty, shackled feet were facing him while her bound hands rested on her stomach. Before she could get her bearings, the second guard sat on her chest with his legs on either side of her head. The air was forced out of her lungs due to his weight and her hands were pinned beneath his ass. He parted her breasts and scooted himself forward while pushing out a disgusting, wet fart directly on her chest. Marcella cringed at the rotten stench while both the guard and the crowd laughed hysterically. His tiny penis had hardened and grown to around four inches. It advanced towards her mouth and bounced up and down. Marcella could feel his sweaty balls and hairy asshole drag between her tits while his shaft pressed towards her mouth, its head glistening with precum.
Marcella’s legs were suddenly lifted in the air by her ankle chain. The first guard was holding her legs straight up while the second guard kept her torso weighted down. She knew her pussy was being displayed like a prized farm animal as it elicited a round of applause from the crowd. She couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal and a gush of hot, feminine slickness as the first guard presented her to everybody. His hands transitioned to her ankles, and she trembled with excitement. She felt his thick cock head part her gooey lower lips just as the second guard thrust his hips forward and shoved his shaft down her empty throat.
Marcella’s vagina parted as the first guards penis penetrated her. He held her ankles in the air and slammed his hips into hers. The friction of each manly inch exploring deeper and deeper into her guts sent her toes curling and her legs shaking. Her ankle chain rattled and she moaned around the small cock thrusting between her inflated lips. Giving head with no teeth or a tongue felt very different to Marcella. She could tighten her gums around his manhood but otherwise had little control. Balls slapped against her chin and spit dribbled from both corners of her mouth as the second guard pistoned his shaft in and out while maintaining total control of her head. Meanwhile, her legs opened as much as the ankle chain would allow while the first guard’s dick plundered her mewling cunt. Every thrust felt divine, though the initial friction started to give way to overflowing natural lubrication. She tightened her vaginal walls as he bottomed out and punched against her cervix. Marcella’s eyes widened and she moaned once again around the cock sliding down her throat. The first guards testicles slapped against her asshole as pussy juice dripped down her perineum while the second guards testicles slapped against her chin as spit dripped everywhere.
Marcella’s body shook as the men used her like a sex doll. She had absolutely no power or means to resist or make herself more comfortable. She was completely at their mercy and under their control. The spectators seemed to be enjoying themselves as Marcella heard comments, probably lewd or degrading in nature, being launched in her direction among an avalanche of cheers. She couldn’t blame them! They saw a filthy, busty slave girl being spit-roasted in the town square; of course they were going to watch!
The second guard grabbed onto her collar and used it as leverage to properly begin fucking her face. Her pleasured moaning turned to pleasured gagging when the slave collar periodically restricted her breathing. She formed a tight, wet and warm ‘O’ with her gums and lips to give him maximum pleasure. Without a tongue or teeth she figured her mouth must have felt a lot like a second vagina.
It wasn’t long before Marcella felt an orgasm approaching. It was building and building with each and every inch of dick inserted into her body. The first guard's rhythmic pounding of her cervix supercharged her arousal and the choking from the rough handling of her collar strangely enhanced everything. She suddenly [i]loved[/i] to be choked! She curled her toes and gagged around the second guards penis as a simultaneous choke and cervix thump threw her over the edge. An orgasm wracked her quivering body and arced like lightning from her squirting cunt. She moaned deeply and her eyes rolled into the back of her head while waves of pleasure rolled over her. She convulsed on the ground while the men increased their pace.
The second guard shoved his hips forward, all the way down Marcella’s throat. She felt his balls contract on her chin and unload a warm load down her throat. He then pulled out and masturbated himself to blow a jet of semen onto her face. It added a fresh layer of cum over the crusty, dry one already present. She felt the ropes of sticky seed layering her face and tasted it in her throat; but she was too lost in orgasm to care. When he was finished, he squeezed the last few drops onto her glistening face and plopped between her lips one last time to clean himself. Marcella dutifully accepted his shaft and allowed herself to be used as a human cock cleaner.
The first guard let out a grunt and buried his thick, veiny dick all the way to the hilt. A powerful cumshot battered her cervix and Marcella felt his balls contracting against her lubricant coated taint. His hands tightened around her ankles and he gently thrusted in and out with a wet squelching sound while his seed was unloaded deep inside. She laid still like a good cum receptacle until both men were softening in her respective holes.
With a wet *pop* the second guard slipped his soft, clean prick from her mouth and stood. Marcella took a ragged breath as the weight was lifted from her chest. The intoxicating stench of semen filled her senses and sent her giggling with joy. Her brain seemed to analyze the odor and register it as normal, positive and pleasurable. She was just beginning to regain her senses as the guard occupying her mouth stepped away. The noise of the crowd suddenly returned as the afterglow of orgasm faded.
The first guard was a little slower to pull out but eventually did so. Marcella immediately felt their combined sexual fluids leaking from her exposed and freshly fucked pussy. The guard stood and held her legs in the air by the ankle chain. He was letting the crowd admire his handiwork! Marcella had no doubt that hundreds of of ancient Romans were examining her vagina as it leaked the guards seed and formed a puddle of sexual fluids beneath her. There was not a single onlooker that doubted her gender or social status. The evidence of ‘heterosexual woman’ and ‘sex slave’ was readily apparent.
The first guard dropped her chain and her feet thudded to the ground. She laid for a short while as her exhausted body refused to move. The first guard squatted over Marcella’s face and thrust his sticky penis down her throat. Once again, her mouth was used as a cock cleaner, her tits as an asshole wiper and her chin as a testicle holder. This time, she tasted both male and female reproductive juices on his soft penis. Shortly after, he withdrew with a *pop* and stepped away.
Seeing at their business was concluded, Master approached and spoke to the guards who seemed to offer their thanks and approval. When they were fully armored, the men confidently strode away from the scene looking no worse for wear. They were powerful, proud and highly respected men of the Roman Legion. They puffed out their chests, flexed their impressive biceps and swaggered through the crowd which parted to give them a wide, respectful berth. They waved to the grateful (and jealous) spectators with confident grins and disappeared into the hustle and bustle of the busy street.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, the worthless hunk of fuckable slave meat named Marcella laid in the dirt looking [b]MUCH[/b] worse for wear. The various liquids coating her skin slowly dripped while her genitals and hips pulsated from overuse and abuse. She knew soreness would surely follow and worried about walking normally. In addition to the seed on her face and between her legs, Marcella’s body had a layer of dirt and grime alongside a thin line of fecal matter trailing between her breasts. She dry-heaved at the sight and smell of literal shit on her chest but didn’t move to wipe or clean herself in any way. The fear of Master’s wrath kept her frozen in place beneath the judgmental eyes of the mob. Her soiled, hyper-feminine body was bared for all to see with plainly visible slave tattoos and various chains binding her hands, feet and neck. She was the least powerful woman in the city with, quite literally, no voice and a well-respected master holding official paperwork describing her to a ‘T’ as his property.
With the guards gone, Master, once again, yelled to the crowd. Was he riling them up again!?
*****
