by Syra Bond
Gaping and dry-mouthed, Caristia stared at the glistening body of the girl, her face turned between the diagonal bars of the cross, her limbs fixed tightly to its unyielding frame, her plight sealed. Caristia clawed up onto the men's shoulders again but they shrugged her off, keen themselves to see what was going to happen next. She craned her neck as she felt again the hand on her bottom, and she opened her buttocks to it, lifting herself onto her toes at the same time, as this time fingers probed around her anus. She squirmed around the fingers and one of them penetrated the muscular ring. As it went inside her she sensed a hollowness of excitement in her stomach and gasped, unable to absorb its pressure without a shock of delight. She took her eyes off the girl for a moment, losing her focus as her lids closed, then asserting herself against the overpowering sensation that flooded her, she pushed down onto the thrusting finger, allowing it to penetrate her fully. She gulped hard as she twisted herself onto it, squirming around it while, at the same time, holding onto the shoulders of the men in front of her so that now she should not lose sight of the crucified girl.
One priest moved behind the cross while another stood facing the girl's back. Caristia writhed on the finger, drawing it deep into her anus, then tightening the muscular ring to keep it there. The priest behind the girl knelt in front of her face, lifted his robe and exposed his hard cock. He held its throbbing end against her lips while the priest on the other side held out his hand and took a fasces from one of the attendant boys. He held the bundle of canes high behind his shoulder, then as the first priest inserted his cock into the girl's mouth he swept it down onto her upturned buttocks. She gulped the cock in as the blow fell, sucking hard to stave off the pain, filling her mouth with it to prevent herself from crying out. Caristia pulled herself up high, drawing herself up on the finger until the ring of her anus closed tightly behind the knuckle. She licked her lips, already feeling a swell of joy building somewhere deep between her hips. The priest wielding the fasces bought it down again and the girl sucked harder, then when it came down a third time, and her body tightened against the stinging blow, the first priest withdrew his pulsating cock, stood up and let his spurting semen run down onto the naked crack of her cunt. As it ran along the fleshy furrow it poured into the crevice of her buttocks and the next blow that came down onto them splashed it across the taut cheeks of her bottom.
Caristia watched a worshipper from the crowd taking the first priest's place, kneeling in front of the girl then lifting his robe and pushing his hard cock into her open mouth. The fasces continued to whip her buttocks, and because she was upside down, catching the tender underpart of her thighs, reddening them, lining them, striping them with evidence of its pain. Each time the bundle of canes struck her body tightened and she drew the cock in her mouth deeper, then inflamed by the jolting sucks of the agonized girl, the man's orgasm overtook him and, as he withdrew his cock and sprayed his overflowing semen across her cunt, the thrashing bunch of canes again spread it in glistening, creamy strands across her burning flesh.
Caristia rode the finger in her anus but it was not enough; the scene of suffering was inflaming her, setting her on fire, drawing her beyond any ability she had to control herself. She clawed up on the men's shoulders, squirming herself free of the delving finger, and watched another man kneel in front of the girl. As she saw him press his hard cock into the gaping mouth and watched the girl tensing again and again, as the blows rained down on her semen smeared bottom, Caristia pushed the men aside and rushed forward through the crushing crowd. As if emerging from a cave she broke out into the area in front of the altar, wide-eyed and dazzled by her exposure. She dodged to the side as two of the attendant boys ran towards her. She felt their hands on her arms but easily slipped their grasp. She chased towards the girl on the cross and stood in front of her splayed legs. A man was just spraying his semen onto the girl's vagina, already streaming wet with the ones that had gone before, and as he held the pulsating shaft and allowed it to pour its fluid onto the delectable flesh, Caristia bent and started to lick.
All she could think about was the taste of semen and she licked like a hungry animal, spreading her tongue flat against the naked crack, lapping up the sticky semen and swallowing it in thirsty gulps. It spread across her face, congealing around her mouth and sticking in strands across her cheeks, and she forced her tongue deep into the girl's sex to get it all. Then the fasces swept down again. The swishing wind lifted Caristia's hair slightly, like a zephyr heralding the arrival of a god. Then the jolt as it hit the girl's buttocks ran through Caristia's body as if she had been struck herself. The extra tension in the girl's body only increased Caristia's thirst and she delved her tongue as deep as she could and rubbed her face against the sticky flesh. Another blow fell, then another, each one only increasing Caristia's need for more. Yet another one fell and in uncontrolled desperation Caristia held on to the girl's legs, bearing her face down, holding her tongue in the girl's cunt, licking, slurping, waiting for the next.
Another man knelt and fed his cock into the girl's mouth, then when he pulled it out and held it above the girl's open cunt, Caristia turned her face and took his semen directly on her tongue. She licked it away from the pulsating end, taking the full flow greedily, then she encircled the flanged rear of the glans with her lips and sucked hard to draw out every drop. She swallowed it all as the fasces swished past her cheek and struck the suffering girl on the buttocks. Caristia drew herself off the cock, satisfied she had taken it all, rubbed her breasts between the girl's legs then stood upright before the priest with the cane. She glistened with semen and sweat, and some of the oil from the girl's body ran down between her breasts into her navel. She held her arms up and spread them out at the same angle as the cross, then she spread her legs as well. She was offering herself in the girl's place, and the very thought of what she was submitting to ignited fresh fires of raging delight deep within her heated body.
The priest placed the fasces on the floor and ordered the girl to be untied. Caristia stood waiting as she was released, then as soon as she had been laid against the side of the altar she was lifted and bound in her place. As the boys pulled the thongs of leather tightly around Caristia's wrists she lifted her eyes with excitement, then when they fixed her ankles and she found she could not move her arms or legs, a shivering pulse of delight erupted within her. She gasped as it ran through her body, then when the belt was tightened around her waist and her forearms and her thighs were secured as well, she felt an orgasm burning through her like a raging firestorm. She could not lift herself up in response to it - because of her constricting bonds she could not twist herself to absorb it - and the suppression of her need to convulse, to jerk as it overtook her, made its power all the greater. But held in, bound inside her, this raging inferno of bliss did not exhaust her, did not deplete her energy, it only invigorated her, only nourished her and prepared her for more. Blood ran to her head and she felt her face burning as the first cock was pushed into her mouth. She took it all, sucking it and drawing it to the back of her throat, then as the fasces struck her upturned bottom she gulped it further, feeling the swollen glans at the top of her throat, which closed around it, an involuntary action, and she felt the throbbing tip expanding as her own grip tightened, then as the fasces came down again and she felt the burning sting against her skin, she tasted the onset of the gushing semen running already up the veiny shaft of the pounding cock.
She knew it was flowing over her cunt because she could hear the sound of the smacking fasces change. She knew it was splashing the semen all over her as it ran copiously between her reddened buttocks, but she could not concentrate on it; she was too ravenous, too eager to feed. She took another one in her mouth - a huge throbbing cock - and another even bigger and, as the beating continued and she felt the wetness of semen running down her body, she was enveloped in a haze of pain, delight and continually growing desire. The pain of the fasces was like a lover's kiss, the cocks in her mouth like ambrosia and the fl
ow of semen - that soaking balm which now ran from her naked cunt down between her shoulder blades, under her armpits and finally up the side of her neck, her face and into her hair - was like a shower of heavenly rain. Orgasms ran through her with every blow, she was inexhaustible, but still none of them spelled the end, none of them quenched her desire or exhausted her ardour. Each throbbing pulse only inflamed her raging passion, only drove her to increased gluttony and she sucked harder and revelled in the thrashing until, at last, what had become a misty haze of ecstasy was finally overtaken by the shadow of blissful unconsciousness.
But it was a momentary darkness and she bit her lips and breathed in deeply though her nostrils as she felt herself being untied from the cross and placed on the cold stone of the altar. She felt the bonds around her wrists and ankles being tightened into the pegs on its side, and she heard the swish of the cane as it swooped down on her bottom. She welcomed the ball as it was forced into her mouth and she closed her eyes as the hood was drawn over her head and everything was cast into darkness. She rose up against the thrashing cane, responding to each strike as if it was the first, lifting her buttocks to meet it every time. She gasped as the blows got harder and she tightened with the rush of a renewed orgasm. When she was untied and the hood removed she rolled over, allowing the cold stone to ease her burning bottom, and she looked up at the pulley block as it swung above her like an ominous pendulum. It hypnotised her, swaying from side to side, and she wondered what delights it held, what punishment it was part of and although she could hardly dare to think it, if she would ever suffer from its use. She stared at it as the cane came down across her breasts and she watched it until darkness descended again.
Arria Sulla told one of her Nubian slaves to carry Caristia back to the House of the Amorini. She lay limply in his massive arms and smelled the strong tang of oil and sweat that came from his black skin. She inhaled it as if she were smelling the sweetest flowers and, as he carried her naked and sore body through the streets, she felt again the heat of excitement growing in her cunt. She looked up at the entrance to Rufo's house and the sign of the Happy Phoenix, then as they approached the Road of the Tombs and she saw again the overhanging balcony they had passed earlier, she pictured in her mind the swinging rope with the pulley held above the altar on the timber tripod. She imagined it swaying above the place where she had felt such overwhelming pleasure and, as she tried to think what it was for, she again remembered the stinging heat of the fasces on her bottom and the semen in her mouth. She realised she would be punished more when she was returned to the house, and she rose up in the Nubian's arms as she tightened with a final paroxysm of bliss.
Chapter 6
Caristia meets Drusus
Caristia walked obediently behind Arria Sulla's Nubians as they carried their mistress high along the road to the Sarno Gate. She did not look up at the Happy Phoenix as they passed the rowdy crowd at the doorway but, when they entered the grounds of the gymnasium, she could not keep herself from staring. Everywhere on the huge square arena, surrounded on all sides by long colonnaded walkways, were naked young men. Some were running or hurdling, some threw javelins, some wrestled or boxed and some simply stretched their oiled, muscular bodies in the warm sun. A large swimming pool at the centre was host to naked men diving and challenging each other to swimming races. Caristia felt a surge of warm wetness in her vagina merely at the sight of them. When she followed her mistress across the training ground, weaving between the juvenile gods, inhaling the scent of their oiled skin and their youthful musky tang, her nipples hardened and she felt the trickle of an orgasm running deep within her.
Seemingly oblivious of the activity that surrounded her, Arria Sulla led the party to the opposite colonnade where one of her Nubians brought her a chair. She sat down and lifted the hem of her skirt - an exquisitely worked light green gown with golden threads tracing the slit up its front - until the lower half of her thighs were exposed.
'Sit here, little slave,' she said pointing to the ground by her side. 'Tell me what you think of these young men. Are they to your taste?' Caristia sat on the cool flagstones and curled her feet under her bottom. 'What about that one, the one with the spear, the naked one. Does his muscular body fill you with desire? And look between his legs. Look at the nature of his manhood. How large it is; too big perhaps for you.' Arria Sulla stared at the young men, absently curling Caristia's hair between her fingers, then as if suddenly waking from a dream she pulled her hand away and sat up straight. 'Be quiet girl! Lucretius Fronto approaches.'
Fronto marched between the young men, nodding to some of them, joking and laughing with others. He was comfortable in their company and, because of his high rank, they were all keen to ally themselves to him, laughing readily at his quips and nodding seriously at his thoughtful observations. He greeted Arria Sulla by bowing and she held out her hand. He took it carefully, as if it was a prized treasure, lifted it to his lips and kissed it slowly.
'You look delightful, Arria Sulla. A delectable prize of womanhood amongst these sweating boys. I hope your accommodation is suitable?'
She nodded and started fiddling absently with Caristia's hair again.
'Yes, perfectly. Will you escort me amongst these young sportsmen?'
'Yes lady. I can see that the closeness of their bodies arouses you.'
'A little, perhaps,' she said haughtily. 'A little.'
He smiled and beckoned her forward. She took his arm and trailed her hand back to Caristia, motioning her to keep up.
'I have seen your young slave before. Indeed I would have taken her for myself if that rogue Rufo would have sold her to me.'
'I think she would have been wasted on you my lord. She has a keen instinct for pleasure.'
'I do not think wasted, madam,' he said unable to disguise his annoyance. 'Indeed, I wonder now if she would have been of the right quality at all. I would probably have had to let her go in the end anyway. I believe you have one of my cast-offs at the moment. Now what was her name? Yes, it comes back to me. Innocenti. I think I have it right. Innocenti.'
'Yes I do, my lord. Though I do not find her very satisfactory. She tires too quickly. She is more like a lady than a slave. Too delicate for her calling. Too fragile for a true slave of pleasure. I will return her if you wish. She may suit you more the second time around.' She laughed, grabbed Caristia's hand and pulled her up alongside. 'But not this one. She is too special to me.'
Arria Sulla stopped and kissed Caristia full on the mouth, pulling her close and tipping her head slightly back. As Caristia responded, extending her tongue into her mistress's mouth, Arria Sulla dropped her hand between Caristia's thighs and laid her fingers against her soft cunt. Caristia lifted herself up on the fingers, opening her legs enough to allow them to slip between the easily opened, wet flesh. Arria Sulla pulled back.
'See, my lord Fronto. See how the child abandons herself to the simplest pleasures.' Arria Sulla removed her hand. Caristia stood, panting slowly, licking her lips, expecting instructions, awaiting the demands of pleasure. 'I do not think you have anything to compete with one such as this. And if you did, I wager you would not risk testing her qualities against my own little slave of fire.' She laughed and pushed Caristia away.
Fronto frowned, for a moment unsure what to say. He pursed his lips.
'That is a challenge, madam. And one I will bear in mind.'
He led the way to a circular enclosure created by a barrier of timber hurdles, where two naked men with dumbbell-shaped leather gloves were engaged in a vicious boxing match. The shorter of the two, heavily muscled and brutish was getting the better of his opponent, holding his thumbs out and gouging at his enemy's already blooded and swollen eyes before finally delivering a heavy blow to the battered face, which knocked his victim unconscious to the ground. Arria Sulla smiled at the victor as he turned, panting and breathless from the effort. Sweat streamed down his well-defined muscles, running to his groin, soaking his genitals. He shone in the bright
sunlight of the early afternoon like a glistening god.
Fronto and Arria Sulla stepped over the barrier, created from heavy timber hurdles, the crossbars of which were sturdy square pieces set in the upper wedge of the X-shaped supports.
'He is a fine specimen my lord Fronto,' said Arria Sulla as she poked at the boxer's stomach then rubbed her hands across his glistening chest. 'He is well muscled and firm and here,' she ran her hand down to his genitals, 'and here, he is well endowed but not, by the feel of him, excited even by the touch of a lady.'
'He has just won in combat, lady. He must be helped to recover.'
She threw her head back disdainfully.
'Caristia. Clean him with oil. He still smells of his combat. I would have him smelling sweetly.'
She motioned to her servants but Fronto interrupted her instructions.
'I will have my servant fetch oil and a basin. He will assist.'
Arria Sulla told Caristia to kneel by the boxer's side until she was needed. Caristia knelt obediently beside the sweating man and inhaled his aroma - the sweet smell of battle. Its harsh, salty tang excited her. It smelled like semen and she rocked forward slightly on her knees so that her face was as close as she dare put it to his flaccid genitals. She inhaled again, this time holding her breath and allowing the scent of his cock - his smooth-skinned venous cock that hung heavily in the parting between his weighty testicles - to penetrate her from within. Its aroma filled her with need and she rocked forward again, hoping she would not be seen as she abandoned caution for the sake of getting her face close enough to his cock to feel its radiant heat. The sound of Arria Sulla's voice became a distant echo as Caristia's eyes flickered upward and she was filled with a dizzy headiness.
