Sadist Through Time

47 A.D.

The lash descended a second time. I could not writhe away, the soldier was stepping on my ankle. He seemed ready to kill - me, the wretches next to me, anyone. Five. I decided that I could probably withstand five lashes from the whip, but no more. I covered my head with my arms and waited.

"Vintus, stop." The command was complete. And the lash never struck.

"Stand her up." Rough hands reached down and I was lifted to my feet. We were all naked. Only my hair shielded me somewhat, but it was not long enough.

"Maybe in the right light and with enough wine, she would be pretty. As we wait during the tribunal, she might prove a momentary diversion. Send her to the baths with a nurse. Get her cleaned and make sure they smell her cunt. That's the only way to tell if these creatures are diseased." He walked away.

Vintus pushed me towards the light. "If they's gonna wash you out anyway, Centurion won't know if I take you first or not, will he? Besides, taking from Centurion what he thinks is his can be our little joke. Come here, whore." He pushed me against the stone wall. I was not ready for the blood that came out of his mouth and nose nor the sharp point of the short sword that was suddenly thrust through his body.

"Vintus, no one takes from me." His voice was calm, sad almost. As he removed his sword, Vintus collapsed to the ground. In his death throes his body had become soiled. He picked me up and carried me into the light. This was the second time he had rescued me. The debt would be all mine.

By nightfall, I had been washed twice by three wizened hags. I had been allowed to soak for a brief period and then the hags began to scour my skin. I did not have lice, but they scrubbed at my scalp, underarms, legs and pubic hair as if I did. I was told to step out of the first tub.

A man approached. He was small but very strong. He touched all of my skin to inspect it. He massaged my breasts and noted that my nipples hardened when he pinched them. He then reached in between my legs and inserted a finger. I screamed with the shock. He removed his finger and sniffed. As he placed the same finger under my own nose, he smiled and said, "Your clean and still a virgin. We all know what happened to Vintus. No one is going to deflower you girl, except the Centurion." He left the baths.

After this I was moved into another tub. This was heaven compared to the hell I'd just endured. The water was very warm, almost hot. They kept placing fire-heated stones in the very bottom of the water. There were two different seats I could sit on. One very close to the hot stones and one a bit further away. The water was also scented with attar of roses. I was given a piece of finely woven cloth and instructed to use certain creams on my skin with the cloth and then to stay in the water for a time. My hair was bathed with other creams and then piled on top of my head as I soaked. I drowsed in that tub for I don't know how long.

The hags returned with more oils and massaged my skin. All three had their hands on me and moved with a sensuousness that I had never experienced. No one had ever touched me in such personal places, but with such impersonal hands. For the first time in my life, desire flooded my body. All I could see in my mind was his eyes. All I could hear in my mind was his voice. It was disgraceful, but I desired him. The hags continued to chant and massage oils into my skin.

Later I was dressed in a white flowing robe that belted under and between my breasts. My hair was brushed and left loose to fall just below my shoulders. My skin glowed from the scrubbing and oils. My heart raced as I knew that he would come to me soon. This was not love that I felt, but it was more than I had ever felt before.

I was taken to a very large room where there was a large bed, many skins, and cushions everywhere. I was given a small amount of wine but no food. Then I waited. I did not have to wait very long.

The Centurion entered the room with an older man. They were not father and son, the physical differences were too great. But there seemed to be a closeness that existed between them. They both entered laughing, but quieted when they noticed me.

"Very agreeable," said the older man.

"Passable. There was only so much that could be done. She's clean at least. Cum on her."

The older man moved his robes and began to rub himself. The Centurion moved behind me and forced me to stand. With the sword that he used to kill Vintus, he sliced the shoulders of my dress and it fell away. I had dried blood on me since the Centurion hadn't wiped the blade clean. He then moved the blade to just under my breasts and used the flat of the blade to show off my breasts. The cold of the metal hardened my nipples. Seeing that, the older man groaned and rubbed himself faster. When he ejaculated, I felt the hot liquid hit my skin. I had shut my eyes to keep from watching as his face became more florid and ugly.

The Centurion put his short sword away and took one drop of semen off my breast with his finger and put it in his mouth. "Very nice Poltanion, I mean, Regal Tribunal." The older man, had he been able to, would have ejaculated again. The older man was obviously in love with the Centurion. "Let me show you to your rooms, sir." The Centurion and the older man left.

I did not know what to do. I wanted to escape but assumed that I would be killed if even attempted it. I decided to hide. That form of love was forbidden among my people. It was a crime punishable by death. That was one of the reasons we as a people fought so hard against their dominion.

I fell asleep behind one of the curtains. I was startled awake when the Centurion came bursting into the room.

"Where are you girl?" He screamed. "Come here now. I thought that I would escape without having to kiss him."

I stepped out from behind my curtain and he pounced on me. His kiss bruised my mouth. His hand at my throat left marks. He tossed me onto a pile of cushions.

"I hate him!" He entered me. "I hate him!" There was pain and a ripping sensation. As his hate grew, his violence grew. "I'll kill him," was the last thing he screamed as he spilled his seed in me. I had become the repository of his hate. He fell into a fitful sleep beside me.

When he awakened, he turned to me. "Go to the baths. You smell." He turned over and went back to sleep. The hags appeared at the door to lead me away.

I was returned to the room in a fresh dress. There was food and the Centurion was reclining on the cushions. "Welcome back, girl. Come eat." I was startled to discover he could speak in a way that wasn't screaming. He made me sit on the stain made by my deflowering.

I was starving. I reached for food with both hands and crammed as much as I could into my mouth. I hadn't eaten in days. The wine was the only thing I'd put into my body for so long. I literally fell on the food.

The Centurion laughed. "My, you are just a small animal," he said to me. I was ashamed, but I was so hungry. He gave me a goblet with water in it and I drank deeply.

I stayed in this room for several weeks. He would use me as he wanted. I would be sent to the baths. Then he would starve or feed me as suited his whim. Every day he would leave to attend the meetings with the Tribunal. Some evenings he would be very tired and he would not lay with me. Other evenings he would be in a rage as he was the first time. He made hate to my body rather than love. He would scream how much he hated Poltanion as he pounded in my body.

I lost track of time. My whole world had been reduced to that room, the baths, and the Centurion's lust. There were moments when he would rest with his head in my lap and he would ask me to sing a gentle song in my own language. He liked it when I stroked his hair and massaged his aching shoulders. Then he would sleep. Sometimes he would have me in ways that didn't leave marks on my body.

Other times something terrible would happen in those Tribunal sessions, or after those sessions, and he would be in a rage again. I tried to always be compliant. I tried to sing sweetly. I caressed him and massaged him for hours at a time.

Late one night, much later than ever before, he returned.

"I've gotten a wretched promise from that bastard Poltanion. He will sponsor me on the Tribunal. But I have to be more clever than he. He will die by my hand and I will take his place." He was pacing around the room and mumbling. He seemed to forget that I was there. He paced for quite some time, lost in thought. Until in one moment he looked into my eyes as if he had just come to a huge decision.

"Tomorrow, bathe very carefully. More carefully than usual. I've become used to your stench." That was all he said. He left and I don't think he returned at all. I fell into a troubled sleep.

The hags appeared and accompanied me to the baths. I was given a new dress and kohl for my eyes. I was allowed to wear a piece of gold jewelry. I returned to the room and waited.

In walked the Centurion and Poltanion. Both were clothed in the finest robes and most luxuriant furs I had ever seen. Wine and food was brought in.

The Centurion said, "Poltanion, you have kept your promise and now I will keep mine. You may of course suck on my whore's tits as I take you from behind. I've desired this for longer than you will ever know."

Poltanion made to disrobe, but the Centurion stopped him.

"First, we must to toast to so many things. I have a powder of ram's horn that will keep us strong all night. After I take you, I want you to take me."

Poltanion said, "I sense a partnership my dear boy. I admit to being old enough to be your father, so why don't you put a touch more of that powder in my goblet. I doubt such a beautiful young man such as yourself requires potions to remain rock hard." Poltanion was actually simpering. He was flirting with the Centurion. The amount of powder that the Centurion used actually clouded the wine.

The Centurion raised his glass of clear wine and Poltanion raised his glass of clouded wine. Both drank deeply.

Poltanion began choking immediately and fell to the ground. Spittle and blood came out of his mouth. He started screaming as if he was being burned alive. The Centurion ranted about hating Poltanion for a moment as he kicked at him, then rushed to the door and yelled for help.

When the soldiers arrive it was too late for Poltanion. Nothing could have stopped the poison from acting. His screams lasted for an eternity it seemed. I hid in the corner. I cried because the noise of the screams hurt me. I cried because I had seen such hate in the Centurion's eyes.

The soldier asked, "Please Centurion, what happened here?"

"I am no longer a Centurion. I was elected. Do not make that mistake again. The whore killed Poltanion with a poison. I rushed in and tried to stop him from drinking, but it was too late."

"Of course, Tribunal. I meant no offense, sir. I do have a question though, where did the poison come from, Tribunal?"

"That is of no concern to me. She is wearing a stolen piece of jewelry the dead man had intended for his wife."

I was hearing these words and not believing them. What had I done to displease him? What more could I have done to please him? I wanted nothing more than to be left alive after the encampment left.

In a twist on justice, the Centurion (I refused to think of him as Tribunal) decided that my death would be in the style of my own people. I was torn apart by wild animals. With my last conscious thought, I wondered what more I could have done to please him.

1832

"Reggie, I'm bored. The rum isn't ready. The heat is up. No one comes to visit so I'm bored." I hated the high heat of Summer in Jamaica. But since I'm married to the richest man in Kingston I put up with some mighty awful inconveniences. Reggie is normally very obliging to my little wishes and whims. But the heat was getting to him as well.

"Damn it all, Olivia. We go through this thing called Summer every year. You've been here five years now. What did you do about the blasted heat last Summer?"

"That was the year we played with that pup of a boy Timothy. Broke him in right - I think that was the phrase you used at the time. The year before that, we deflowered your simpering whimpering little niece. She got sent to that nunnery when she got back home. Your brother was forced to pay the Abbess so much more for all that arsenic medicine. I'm bored Reginald. And your family in England won't send kin to us anymore."

"Yes, Olivia. You do tend to play rough with your toys. Do you want to leave town and go to the plantation? I admit it is a bit off season to be down there, but there isn't anything happening in town. Besides that the mornings and evenings are much nicer by the river. Think on it."

The beast actually patted my hand as he left the veranda. The silly bastard actually thought that all our games were his ideas. Stupid man. The amount of rum I had to give him for that final go at Penelopa would have strangled a slave.

"What a thought!" I actually said this out loud. To play with a slave. Oh my. Of course it was the most stringently held convention. White women never touched one of the slave men. I'd always told Reggie that if he ever fucked a slave, I'd kill him. And since I was supremely capable of such an act - Reggie kept his pants on while he was down at the plantation. I'd watched once as he'd raped one of the house slaves with his walking stick - that had been a lovely diversion til the silly thing got blood poison and died. Reggie always thought that he was in control of everything - stupid man. I'd show him.

After a week of packing and preparing, I left Kingston with 7 trunks and 11 bags. I had not really decided how long I'd stay at the plantation - I guessed until I got bored there. I seemed to remember about four big slaves that might serve my playful purposes. But I also remember Reggie had gone to an auction about 6 months ago. He kept going on about bagging a winner of a slave. Smart for a slave too. Whatever that meant - probably meant he could use a fork and not just his hands to eat. I make myself laugh sometimes with my own brand of vicious humor.

We'd sent a message to the housekeeper informing her that I would be arriving. Reggie always called the housekeepers Bessie, after his mother. He always thought that was just the most hilarious thing. I met his mother right before our wedding - it was funny.

The carriage ride into the hills took forever. It was always a dusty trip but the higher we climbed, the cooler it got. We stopped often near the river to let the horses rest and I would cool myself with mint water dabbed on a silk hankie. One of the many Bessies came up with this, bless her black heart. I wonder whatever happened to her?

I arrived at mid-afternoon. The plantation house was in good order, of course. Reggie had sent up more whitewash for the house and it practically glowed. Bessie and a young girl were standing near the door waiting.

"We has more mint-water for ya, Madame? Come sit if it please ya?" Bessie, this new Bessie, stated everything as a question, never knowing what I'd beat her for. I like keeping the house slaves on their toes. "We'll has a hand come and carry up for you?"

I was feeling tolerant and exhausted. "Yes, Bessie. I'll sit and take the water. Who is the chit?" Sometimes I can manage to take an interest, but not often.

"This? She just be one of hands? No account? Learnin her the kitchens? 'Sthat water to your liken, Madame?"

"It is cool and wet and that is all that matters. Get the luggage up to the rooms and start unpacking. I want a bath and a rest before dinner." Bessie and the little chit ran off.

Two field slaves came to do the unloading. One I thought I recognized - all the slaves' faces look the same to me. Or so I thought. The other slave was new and magnificent. He was tall and very muscular. I'd never seen tawny eyes before. He only glanced up once, but in that one second I saw gold in his eyes. He was beautiful. He took my breath away. I wanted him so much I could feel my own moisture begin to flow. I had to have him - that night if possible. That would have been rash.

I'd have to be very careful. I knew that I could damn well do anything I wanted and Reggie wouldn't care. However, rumors of this sort of indiscretion could force Reggie's hand. He was very much aware of his reputation. I'd have to be very very careful.

I took the first few days just to rest and recover from the heat of the trip. Then I started my plans. Reggie had named this amazing slave. This was very unusual for Reggie. He must have had plans for this particular slave. Reggie named him Rage. When I was told his name by Bessie, I got moist.

I made sure that Rage was the one who picked the flowers for the dinner table. Since I insisted the flowers be fresh, they had to be picked right before dinner. And right before dinner I started taking my bath and then drying myself on the balcony. Rage would always see me and I would make sure that he saw a great deal of me. I was never fully nude, but the sheer white diaphanous wrap that I wore really hid nothing. This went on evening after evening. Until, one particular evening. I was out on the balcony as usual but when I looked down, Rage was standing under the balcony holding up a single white rose as if comparing that rose to my body. It was a simple gesture, but it was also a beautiful one. I dropped my wrap and, to my surprise, Rage lowered his trousers. He was fully hard and magnificent. We both re-dressed and turned away.

I discovered that Rage was in charge of the horses and was quite an accomplished rider. I determined to go riding every day. Of course Rage had to ride in attendance so that I would be safe and protected - I demanded.

The first ride was a wonderful experience. Bessie had packed a hamper with some food and a little wine. I was so surprised to discover that Rage had brought a book of poetry. He could read and write and do sums. Someone had taught him at another plantation.

"My goodness you are a good slave, aren't you Rage? Do you do other things as well?" I placed my hand on his chest. This was the first time I'd ever done such a thing. Oh I was going to enjoy myself with this one.

He was so reluctant with me. It was almost as if he knew what I was planning and he dare not comply with any of my wishes. Every time we rode out I tried to get him to fuck me, but he just wouldn't.

After dinner one night, I was desperate. I felt almost as if he was playing with me the same way that I was playing with him. I told Bessie that I wanted Rage to read to me in the library - all the house slaves knew he could read and write. So he comes in and I've selected the book and am sitting on the couch. He reads for a while. Seemingly ignoring me as I'm practically writhing with desire.

"Rage, I can give you your freedom. If you love me well enough I can convince Reggie to move you to America and work for the man who buys our rum. He lives in Boston and doesn't own slaves. You'd be free. Love me right now Rage and I can make it happen." There was such a note of pleading in my voice - I'd actually practiced it so it would sound genuine. He sat there for a minute as if considering it. Then he slowly began to take off his shirt.

I'd won. I had him. I was going to make him fuck me. And my God how we did. That first time, we made love for hours. Rage was terrified of hurting me or displeasing me. I could taste his fear. After that first night, I had to have him every night. We'd make love all night long. We'd meet down by the river in the evenings. I've never had a man between my legs who was bigger or lasted longer. This went on for weeks. Each time he entered me, it felt like he was tearing me open.