As the hours dragged by, the air in Annia's room became foul from the overflowing waste bucket behind the curtain in the corner. The room was windowless and little light seeped through the cracks around the bolted door, so other than knowing it was still daylight there was no way to tell how many hours had passed. The bolt was slammed aside and the door thrown open. At the sight before them, all five broke into smiles. Most of the slaves on this estate, as everywhere, were males, but these soldiers, thanks to some beneficent god, had been directed to the females, most of them young and some of them exceptionally beautiful. The first two chosen were the dead man's two lovely concubines. " She dropped quickly to her knees and awaited him, knowing what was expected of her, intending to give him pleasure such as he had never known before. She did her best to service him as she had done so successfully with Fortunatus, but his grip on her hair made it difficult to apply the delicate tongue strokes to the sensitive flange at the head of his member that had driven her Master wild. Spurred by desperation and hope, she concentrated on the most sensuous area behind the flange, sucking on it, kneading it with her lips. The grunting soldier pumped a thick load into the back of her throat which she swallowed in a series of gulps, milking the last of it out of his root and licking him clean, just as her Master had taught her. I'd been looking forward to yanking that chattering little tongue of yours out of your pretty little mouth. Now we'll be able to enjoy your pleas for mercy when we nail you up." So much for her earlier plan to win him over, Annia thought. "If you or any of the guards want to play with them during the night, you may. These eleven were tied to a hitching rail; the others, their hands unbound, were pushed inside and the door bolted shut.
One does not reject such a gift from the gods; it would be a sacrilege. They were immediately dragged out into the vestibule and out of sight. He unbuckled his sword and threw it on a side chair. The pinkness of his genital area was in stark contrast to his sun-bronzed face, arms and knees. It was nearly twice the size of her deceased Master's or any of his sons. Worst of all he kept ramming it deep into her throat, making her gag. " She scrambled to obey, panic rising in her belly at the possibility of failure. Dusk was rapidly turning to darkness, and the guards had built a bonfire to keep themselves warm and provide light for the front area of the barn, which they called their "holding pen." Guards with torches had been stationed all around the building in case a clever slave managed to dig his way out. As the night hours went by, she was "played with" by more than half the soldiers on guard duty.
Every slave in the region, including Annia's mother, had been forced every day for seven days to walk past the dozens of dead and dying slaves hanging from crucifixes all around the perimeter of the farm they had worked.
They were forced to see what happens when one witless and angry slave murders his owner, how it affects every last slave of the deceased.
After her mother died, Fortunatus turned to Annia who by then was developing into an even more stunning beauty. She had seen that look often enough, the look of male entrancement. She approached him and framed soft hands gently around his face. Yet she found herself moaning as an irresistible thrill surged from the button between her legs to every point on her body. Some time before dawn she had finally been thrown into the holding pen with the others where she was able to sleep for a few unmolested hours before being roused again. The Roman guards didn't much care what went on inside the holding pen as long as no one escaped and no one died before they could be executed.
She had missed her last two periods and had been vomiting in the mornings. You're gonna look back and realize this little stroll was the best part of your day." When Annia made no reaction to their taunts, the first guard grabbed at her crotch through her thin robe.Likewise, the household slaves had been crowded into two storage rooms of the main house — males in one, females and small children in the other — and locked up for safekeeping.The few who escaped had run off as their Master was bleeding to death, including Tullipor, the wretched young hothead who had wielded the pitchfork. No slave in the region would dare give them shelter and certainly no free person would show them any mercy.This is a carefully researched story of what the crucifixion process was really like. She could hear the soldiers approaching the locked door to the room where she sat huddled in the arms of her supervisor, Tertia. The older slaves who knew the law wasted no time spreading the word that they were all doomed.The older woman, head mistress of the household slaves, tried to comfort her, stroking her head, gently hushing her, suppressing her own fear in the face of the unfolding disaster. Those slaves had witnessed the terrible consequences for such a crime sixteen years before when Annia was still suckling at her mother's breast.