Soldier and whip | THE PRICE OF ADULTERY | bondage stories

A wooden platform had been erected in the centre of the arena, immediately in front of where they stood. It was about ten feet high, bringing it up to just below the level of the front tiers of seats. At its centre was a stout wooden frame consisting of two uprights, about three feet high and four apart, joined by a cross bar. Two feet beyond the bar was a further post the same height as the others, with a shorter cross bar forming a tee.

At each end of one face of the platform were two sets of wooden steps. As Marcellus and Claudia watched, a file of about forty legionaries marched smartly out of the far entrance to the stadium and formed a line from the bottom of one stair back to the entrance. A minute more, and the adultress herself appeared through the same entrance, and began to walk down the line of waiting men.

She was a tall woman of about thirty, very handsome, with an athletic build and strong aristocratic features. She was dressed in a rich robes, with sandals and a jewelled fillet in her hair. Given what they had already learned about the local customs, one might have expected that the sinner would have been brought on naked but Claudia, at last, understood. It would be a far greater humiliation for a woman to be brought on dressed as her station in life merited, and be forced to strip in front of a crowded stadium than simply to have walked on in her skin.

Accompanied by two guards at her back, and a man in a toga, who looked like some minor court official, she passed down the line, her head held high, as if inspecting a guard of honour.

When she reached the platform, she climbed the nearest stair and turned to face the Gubernatorial throne. The two guards followed, one carrying a satchel, the other a whip, and after them came the official. When they were all in place, he unrolled his scroll and began to read.

"The Lady Livia, being found to be a persistent and scandalous adultress by the Governor's courts, is condemned by her husband and family, sitting in judgement on her, to forty lashes and forty men."

The crowd, which had greeted her appearance with catcalls and shouts of abuse, cheered. The official held up his hand. He had not finished.

"Is condemned to Forty lashes and forty men, ordinary and extraordinary."

There was a shocked silence for a moment, with only some female gasps of sympathy. Then a woman shouted, "that should cure your itch, bitch," and the shouts and jeers began anew.

All this time the adultress had looked straight ahead, her chin high, seemingly unmoved. Now the official turned to her.

"You must strip, my Lady," he said, affording her her title still, although she was now a condemned criminal.

For a moment she hesitated, her apparent calm nearly pierced, then her hands went to her girdle, loosening it and letting it drop to the floor. She took hold of the hem of her tunica and pulled it over her head, then the intusium. Now she wore only the two bands of cloth, the fascia and strophium, that were bound under her swelling breasts and between her smooth white thighs.

With set face and fixed stare, she unwound the two long strips of silk and handed them to one of the soldiers, who had already gathered up her other clothing.

While the woman strained to keep up her air of unconcern, the two soldiers proceeded to rip the garments into shreds, helping the process with knives from their belts when a seam or extra thickness of cloth resisted their efforts.

"Why did they do that?" Claudia asked the helpful aide, who had found some reason of his own to place himself near her delightful form.

"She has been convicted of adultery," he replied, "and, whatever happens to her now, she is forbidden woman's dress. She will always have to wear a shortened toga from now on, as do prostitutes, rather than the tunica of respectable women."

The woman was now turned and made to stand up to the frame, which came just below the tops of her thighs. A soldier bent, while she stood submissively waiting, and fastened a leather thong around each shapely ankle, tugging on each to bring it to eye bolts set in the timber floor. Once the thongs were tied down tight, her legs were widely parted. Another thong was used to tie her wrists and then she was made to bend over the bar, her arms either side of the short tee-piece, onto which now fell her bare breasts with their large red nipples.

Now the thong was tied down tightly to the base of the upright, and the woman was secured, immobile, her feet widely parted, the cross bar pressing hard beneath her belly, her breasts pulled down onto the surface of the tee-bar.

Claudia had noticed the woman flinch as her bare mons and prominent teats came in contact with the bars.

"What is that wrapped about the cross bars?" she asked her ever helpful guide, "she seemed to shrink from them when she bent."

"That is the ordinary," came the reply.

"The ordinary?"

"The bars are wrapped in pigskin, with its bristles still intact, though shortened to make them stiffer. When the tanners have done with them, they are as hard as steel, and she feels them penetrate the flesh of her belly and breasts. This is a refinement of her punishment."

"And the extraordinary?" Claudia enquired.

"That comes now."

Bent as she was over the bar, her thighs forced apart by her wide-legged stance, the woman's split fig of a vulva pouted back in the gap of her crotch and the cheeks of her buttocks were parted also, allowing the pale brown whorl of her anus to shame her. The soldier with the pouch moved behind her and produced a number of small objects from it, holding them up for the crowd to view, eliciting hoots of mirth from most, shudders from some of the women.

Perhaps they had experienced this themselves in some form.

The soldier presented one to the displayed anus and thrust it unceremoniously through that tight and tender orifice. Others followed. Until now the woman had managed to maintain an almost indifferent air, but at this she gasped loudly, her body going into momentary rigidity, even more than that imposed by her bonds. As the soldier pressed another object home, to a similar anguished reaction, Claudia turned in dismay to her mentor.

"Dear Gods!" she gasped, "What is that they are doing to her?"

"As I told you, that is the extraordinary," the aide replied. "They are small fir cones to make her feel the pricks."

"The pricks?" Claudia exclaimed.

"Oh yes, She will be raped by the men on parade, although, of course, it is not rape to force an adultress, and the cones will ensure she gets no pleasure from it, but that she remains lively to the last man. However," he added, "before she takes her men, she must take her lashes."

Claudia shuddered, but this was a patrician woman, and she was not about to cry out in front of the serried ranks of plebs in the tiers above the arena.

The soldier with the whip came round to her left. He glanced across to the Governor's box, where the white robed figure in the chair of honour raised one hand, paused for dramatic effect, then dropped it down. As it fell, so did the whip, its venomous leather length falling across the woman's shoulders, to leave a thick red welt across their soft whiteness.

Her body jerked under the blow, but she made no sound. The soldier raised the whip and struck again. Though she bucked and grunted, she concede no cry, and endured in silence. The third stroke fell across her back rather lower, where the tip could reach round her sides and bite the side of a fat dug pressed against the pricks of the hairy pig hide. Her grunt was more piglet than hog, as the leather scorched her teat, but still she would not give tongue.

The ladder of welts crept down her back until the tenth stroke was on her buttocks, right across their fullest part. the soldier paused, gathering the coils of the whip, and moved over to the woman's right. Bent as she was, the man, though right handed, could strike true from either side, and he laid on ten more strokes, balancing the first tranch from the other side. Once more he sought out, and found, the tender side of a soft breast, biting in deep, and drawing a long slow moan from the tortured woman.

With twenty strokes delivered, the man moved back to his starting point, and began again. This time he started a little lower, then marched on down, to treat the under-sides of the buttocks, scoring the well fatted flesh below the bulge.

Finally, he moved over again, driving in a matching set of ten from the right. She had not screamed, but her body streamed with the sweat of agony and her breath rasped in her throat.

The soldier with the whip turned and waved it at his comrades lined up below. Their centurion gave the order, and the line advanced to climb the steps in single file. The leading soldier came to stand behind the bent buttocks, his hands working at the laces of his tunic skirt in front.

The court officer looked again to the Governor, who waved in assent. A word to the leading soldier, and he had unsheathed his male weapon, and presented it to the pouting vulva between the spread and welted thighs. He nudged the lips open and thrust.

The woman had been lying in a state of semi-collapse, the heavy flogging having sapped even her formidable strength, but now her body went rigid, her head came back, her mouth gaping. A strangled wordless sound, a whining negative, as if she was denying that this was happening to her, came from her clenched throat. "Nnnnnng! Nnnnnng!" she went, as the legionary bucked and thrust in and out of her vagina, driving himself to instant ecstasy as he felt the rough cones through the thin membranes of the walls. His iron-hard shaft must be causing the woman unspeakable pain as the tender tissues separating the driving penis from the nodular seed cases were bruised and abraded between them, like lead sheet between hammer and anvil.

The intense sensation, augmented by the woman's writhings, could not be sustained for long. In less than two minutes the man's hips bucked as he discharged his pent up load against her bruised cervix, and he dragged his now flaccid weapon from her sheath. The first was finished, but there was no respite for the moaning creature, her breasts and belly pricked and sore where they had been battered against the pigskin bristles, her back and buttocks of fire from the harsh flogging she had received, her belly screaming from the pounding of penis and pine cones.

No sooner had the first soldier withdrawn than his comrade, standing at the ready, his penis already bared and rampant, shouldered the first man out of his way and plunged without hesitation into the oozing channel.

The suddenness of his attack caused Claudia to wince, as she visualised her own body invaded so brutally, though, truth to tell, the assault was probably less devastating than the first, for a rich deposit of semen lubricated the channel. Lubrication however could do nothing to ease the pain, and the poor victim mewled and groaned throughout her second ramming. And her third and fourth, the fifth and sixth, and on and on, the line of soldiers advancing breast to back up the steps, a newly rampant penis nuzzling at the ravaged vaginal entrance almost before the last had pulled free, its contribution to the sticky flood spurted into the dark warm depth of her.

There was rivalry between the units granted the favour of being detailed to carry out one of these punishment rapes, competition to see who could ram forty penises into the woman's belly and discharge their seed the fastest. The honour of their cohort was at stake, and they jostled one another aside to plunge in the faster. but drive as they might, such a thing must take time. It was nearly an hour and a half before the crowd were applauding the last man, as he ceremoniously wiped off his steaming cock on the bruised and welted buttocks, ninety minutes of continuous grinding agony for the woman, but,such was the efficacy of the ordinary and the extraordinary, the one piercing her teats and belly, the other causing unbearable pain in her gut from the unwelcome intercourse, that the woman continued to react to the last thrust though, once it was over, she collapsed into unconsciousness.

Throughout it all, Claudia had watched, fascinated, her mind a chaotic cacophony of feeling. The time passed as if on wings, as it certainly could not have done for the violated creature fastened over the frame in front of a thousand spectators. Claudia's body ran with sweat that threatened to soak her robes, the perspiration stinging between her breasts and in the crease of her buttocks adding to her overwhelming sensations. She looked across again at the slumped figure, its body, too, running with sweat from every pore.

"What will happen to her now?" she asked, in a voice made hoarse by her emotions.

"It will depend on her family," the aide told her. "It is a private matter now that public sentence has been carried out. Most likely she will be sent to serve in a brothel for a few months, as a bum girl. If she doesn't show a swollen belly by then, her man may have her back. Otherwise she'll probably be stuck there for life."

"A bum girl?" Claudia exclaimed.

"Excuse the indelicate expression, my Lady," the aide said hastily. "It means she will be reserved for those who wish to use her nether passage, rather than her front entrance, which would inevitably lead to pregnancy. As it is, with no further exposure, she stands a fifty-fifty chance of escaping any long term consequences of her rape, though to be sure, the short term will be very sore for her. I doubt she'll be able to take a man anywhere without groaning all the time she's there. Nor sit without a moan or two."

"She'd be better off dead," Claudia said, imagining herself bruised and sore internally, and having to endure an endless succession of pricks up her tight anus.

"Indeed, my Lady," came the reply, "in the old days she would have been raped until she died, still bent over the block, but Pityus is loathe to lose even one woman, and this method has been devised to punish erring females adequately, yet retain them for the benefit of the state."

While they talked, one of the soldiers fetched a bucket and threw water over the woman's head. She choked as it ran round her face into her nose and mouth, but the cold on her neck seemed to revive her a little, and they unbound her arms and ankles, pulling her up by her hair until she stood upright.

The soldiers on either side grabbed an arm each, and she staggered down the steps, half carried by the men either side of her. At the foot of the steps she made a Herculean effort to pull herself together. The men who had raped her so brutally for so long had resumed their rank leading from scaffold to entrance, and she somehow managed to walk unaided back along the line.

It was a very different progress from the haughty entrance she had made then. Now her proud gait had been reduced to an ungainly waddle, for she was obviously in great pain, and could not close her legs, walking with them wide spread, groaning at every step. She had entered elegantly robed, now she was bruised soiled and naked, and would never wear robes again. Only the humiliation of the adultress's shortened toga awaited her now, but even in her distress she managed to radiate a certain dignity. The crowd felt it, and began to cheer her, where before they had jeered.

"Good for you, Lady," one female voice called, "show 'em a woman can take all their boasting pricks, and still come up smiling."

There were good-natured cheers all round, though Claudia did not think the woman was near smiling, but she was brave, that was true, and one could not but admire her.

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