Pagan Princess

The centurion then climbed up behind her and joined the column with Melissia protesting vehemently about her exposed position across Drachius' saddle. She looked around for Antoninus but he was far away at the head of the line of troops.

"Any more noise from you little girl and I will punish these resplendent buttocks that rise up so nicely before me!" Melissia's anger worsened as she heard Drachius laughing at her predicament.

They rode hard all day and well into the night, finally just before midnight they made camp. Melissia's head spun from the buffeting she received whilst laying across Drachius' saddle. Her chest and ribs ached unbearably and she had no doubt that was the centurion's intention. He pulled her off his horse took out some leather twine, strapped her arms behind her back and tied her ankles together. Four soldiers were assigned to guard her while he went to see his Tribune.

Antoninus saw him coming and noted the anger in the Drachius' face.

"What is it Drachius?" He asked, wondering what had angered his favourite centurion and friend so much.

Drachius looked at his leader squarely in the eyes.

"Tell me Tribune, are you in love with her, has she managed to dazzle you with those doe eyes of hers?" He searched Antoninus' face for an answer to his question.

"By the gods no Drachius, she has stirred my loins on occasion but no she has not captivated me." He went to dismiss his centurion.

"Prove it!" Replied Drachius, "Prove to me that there is not more to this situation!" Still continuing to search his leaders face.

"And how should I do that Drachius?" This questioning from his subordinate troubled him.

"You promised I could put her under the lash each and every night on our way to the city!" The centurion held his stare.

"Yes, Drachius I did but......"

The centurion interrupted him.

"You can prove to me there is nothing between the two of you Tribune, let me put her to the lash tonight. Then tomorrow we can present her to the Consul with a beautiful set of fresh stripes!" Drachius waited for the compromise.

Antoninus did feel he was compromised and searched his thoughts for a solution that would spare Melissia this extra punishment before her arrival at Nova Magus. Drachius' argument was strong and before he could stop himself the Tribune heard himself giving the order for the girl to be lashed immediately.

Melissia was lying uncomfortably on some leafy ground under a large oak tree and her four guards were staring at her nakedness. She was in too much pain to goad them this night and simply glared back at them. She had been denied the lotion given to her earlier and now the burns to her inner thighs began to cause her more distress.

She heard Drachius approach and give orders for her to be strung up to a branch above her head.

"What are you doing?" She protested vehemently, trying in vain to struggle against the strength of the four soldiers as they manhandled her.

"The Tribune said I was not to be whipped this night!" She went on.

Drachius gripped her throat.

"That is where you are wrong little girl!" Tonight will be just for you, me, these four soldiers and this!" The centurion held out a whip in front of Melissia's face and laughed, as did the four guards.

The branch of the tree had been pulled down to meet Melissia's outstretch arms. Each of her ankles were secured to a stake in the ground. Then the branch was released stretching her body taut. Melissia made a delightful spectacle, the sheen of her light brown body, her distended ribs topped off by her exquisite breasts. This vision had caused delirious swellings in the groins of her tormentors.

The guards drew back to give Drachius space to weald his whip. Melissia's eyes flashed defiance at the whipmaster daring him to do his worst.

"Tonight is your punishment for all the insults you have hurled at my men and myself these past few days you little heathen. And do not look to your Tribune to rescue you from this one, he himself ordered this!" The centurion uncoiled the whip.

Melissia's mind was in turmoil, she had not expected any more whippings before the ordeal she would surely endure at Nova Magus. What had changed the Tribune's mind since yesterday? Her body was already racked with pain and now she was to suffer even more. Melissia snapped out of her thoughts as Drachius landed the first lash squarely across both her breasts catching the tip of one nipple. Breath flew out of her and she gave a stifled sob, the pain radiated down from her chest and into her abdomen. She struggled against her bonds to no avail; she was totally at the mercy of the powerful centurion who was relishing every moment of her anguish.

As she was getting her breath back from the first lash another landed across her abdomen, this blow produced an even louder sob from her. The tip of the whip had snaked around her hip and raised a painful welt to the top of her left buttock joining the other marks from her previous encounter with Drachius and his dreaded whip. Melissia tried in vain to ride the torturous blows of the lash but she was suspended so tightly all her efforts were futile. Lash after lash rained down on her writhing body, producing tormented screams from Melissia, her breasts, ribs, abdomen and thighs now bore a criss-cross of painful welts, she prayed for unconsciousness.

Antoninus lay on his cot trying to shut out Melissia's screams of agony. His mind was in torment, Drachius' words went round and round in his head. Was he right? Has this Pagan Princess captivated him? Again Melissia's shrill screams tortured his ears, the incessant crack of Drachius' whip as it found the girls soft flesh caused him to wince. After what seemed like an eternity Melissia's screams ceased but the whipping continued.

Drachius goaded by the four guards continued to flog Melissia's unconscious body. She just hung from the tightly sprung tree branch, her body bathed in sweat and bearing a patchwork of welts from her neck down to her ankles. Her head hung to one side clearly not feeling anything now.

"CEASE THIS AT ONCE!" The Tribune bellowed at his centurion, grabbing the trailing whip and pulling it from Drachius' grip. "Can you not see she is no longer feeling your blows Drachius?"

The centurion was incensed by his leaders interference and replied through gritted teeth.

"As I said before Tribune, we would do well to present her to the Consul with a fine set of crimson welts!"

Antoninus replied angrily. "And would you care to experience the Consul's wrath if we presented him with a dead body?" The Tribune raised a quizzical eyebrow to his centurion.

Drachius conceded that maybe his leader was correct and ordered for Melissia to be taken down. "Yes Tribune you a right, I think she has learned an important lesson today and that is she cannot insult my men and myself and not receive retribution!"

Antoninus put his hand on his centurion's shoulder. "Drachius she will receive all the retribution Rome can offer once she is put before the Consul, mark my words well."

Drachius headed his words. "Then let us proceed with all speed when day breaks Tribune, I feel her army may not be far away, we could do well without their interference!"

Later that night Melissia awoke in a delirium, she drifted in and out of consciousness and her head swam as she felt constant rising nausea. This latest session under the lash had been brutal, she felt close to death. Every part of her body cried out in stinging pain, the burns to the insides of her thighs gave out agonising pulses of heat. Rivulets of perspiration ran off her skin as she thrashed about in agony.

The Tribune had given orders for her to be placed inside one of his command tents and had doubled the guard on her. He was troubled by the deterioration in her health, troubled by his feelings for her and most of all, troubled that she seemed to be dieing. It did not bother him now what the Consul would think if presented with a dead prisoner, now he was bothered about Melissia. His mind was in turmoil, he felt like a traitor to Rome allowing this woman to take over his very being; he felt she had possessed him.

Antoninus sent for his personal physician to attend Melissia. The physician wondered how anyone could inflict these terrible things to such a beautiful creature as the one laid out before him. Lovingly he covered her body with cold damp compresses in an effort to bring down the consuming fever that was burning within her. The physician informed the Tribune what he did not want to hear, that the girl was near death.

"She is in deep shock Tribune." Said the physician, looking genuinely concerned for his patient. "I will give her a potion that will put her into a deep sleep, her body needs to recover and must not be troubled by consciousness. Her survival will rest upon her own will to live."

"Thank you." Said Antoninus "I value your skill, I think this woman's will to live will surpass all our expectations, I have no doubt about that. It is a pity however, that our efforts may be in vain as the Consul has plans to torture her to death should she survive this trauma!" The Tribune watched as his physician administered his potion and then dismissed him.

Antoninus mopped Melissia's fevered brow, his heart sank to see her like this and he felt he had been instrumental in destroying a thing of beauty. Even near death she brought out intense desire and lust in him.

"May the gods strike me down if you die Melissia." He whispered under his breath.

Melissia opened her eyes and tried to focus through the red mist.

In a broken voice she said. "G..gi..give me your sword Tribune and I will spare your gods that task." With that she drifted into total unconsciousness.

Antoninus' heart seemed to leap from his chest when she spoke. He replied to the sleeping enchantress before him.

"You brave brave young woman, it seems nothing can dampen your spirit. If you survive this I will gladly give you my sword so that you may extinguish the life from me." His words fell on deaf ears as Melissia slid into the darkest of voids.

The Tribune stayed with her the entire night, lovingly mopping her body, applying lotion to her welts and burns totally transfixed by her beauty.

The next morning Antoninus awoke to loud trumpeting sounds coming from the edge of the camp. Bleary-eyed he went outside and was met by his general Honorius Plexus complete with fifty men of the Consul's personal guard. He saluted his general and took him inside the command tent to see his captive.

The general gazed at the unconscious girl. "It would seem you have done the Consul's work for him Antoninus?"

The Tribune shuffled uncomfortably. "She was impudent and loose tongued, she goaded my men with derisory remarks. I felt certain punishments were in order General."

"Quite so Antoninus, in your position I would have done the same."

Honorius looked more closely at Melissia. "She looks so innocent like this, hard to imagine this little girl leading an army of savage warrior women, why there is nothing of her."

Antoninus' confidence grew. "She has been trained well Honorius, she and her army have learned our battle tactics and she speaks several tongues fluently, including our own."

The general raised his eyebrows and ran his fingers over the girl's skin feeling the array of raised welts on her abdomen. Honorius salivated. "Magnificent specimen of womanhood Tribune, if she lives we must quiz her as to who her teacher was. Whomever it is they are a danger to Rome and must be brought to task as quickly as possible."

Eager to please his general Antoninus replied. "Then we must hope the girl lives so that we may question her more thoroughly."

"Yes indeed Tribune!" The general nodded enthusiastically.

"I will arrange for her to be transferred by litter for the remainder of the journey to Nova Magus. Then whilst there she will be nursed back to health so that she can face an inquisition."

*******

Petronius Arius looked down on the prisoner who had just arrived and was lost in his thoughts.

'How could this whelp of a girl have caused so much grief? Here before him was the torn and bloodied body of a pagan girl born of a Saxon King and Queen. Because of her injuries he failed to see the former beauty of the girl. He dearly wanted to know how she acquired her fighting and strategy skills and how it came about that she knew so much of Roman battle tactics?' So many questions remained unanswered.

He wanted to know the name of her tutor, for this tutor was initially responsible for all the carnage that had ensued to this very day. He vowed in his mind that he would extract this information by every means possible from this flayed and bloodied pup that lay before him.

The Consul sent for his personal physician and ordered that he attend to this very 'special' prisoner. "I want her brought back to the very pinnacle of health!" He ordered. "I cannot have her expiring on me at the very first question."

The Consuls physician surveyed his task, laying before him on a crude cot in the cell assigned to her was the bruised and torn body of Melissia. The physician looked upon the handiwork of Drachius with utter dismay. For he was a man who liked to heal people and he could not comprehend how one human being could inflict such suffering on another. Now here he was, ordered to heal this bruised, bloodied and battered creature. So once again they could torture and mutilate her. He felt like administering a poison so she would be spared the ordeal that lay ahead of her. Then again it would be he who would take her place if she should die in his keeping, he thought better of it.

As the days passed Melissia started to come out of her delirium, her head still swam and she felt for one fleeting moment that the handmaiden swabbing her fevered brow was her lieutenant, Helena.

For the physician, healing Melissia had become a labour of love as the true beauty of his patient began to blossom once more. He dismissed the handmaiden and carried on with the mopping of Melissia's brow.

"That girl." Whispered Melissia in a trembled voice. "Who is she, I know her do I not?"

The physician put a finger to his lips and urged her not to speak.

"Rest little lady, do not worry yourself with the identity of handmaidens, they are of no importance."

"But, but......I know her." She insisted.

"You cannot know her Melissia, how could you? She is nothing but a palace slave."

Melissia lay back and cooed at the delicate touch of this wonderfully kind and gentle man. "You have tended me for days now and I do not even know your name, what is it?"

"It is of no consequence Melissia but if you must know it is Ithicus."

"So Ithicus....." Trilled Melissia. "What is to become of me? Shall I make a guess?"

The physician's brow furled. "Let us not speak of it now little lady, we must make you well."

"For what?" Countered Melissia. "So that I can be put to the question, so once again I will be the cruel sport of those cruel centurions. So my flesh can be torn from my bones, is that your desire?"

Melissia's questions were relentless and Ithicus had no answer for her. "Worry not Ithicus, I do not hold you responsible for my current predicament. If it were not for my desire for vengeance neither of us would be in this position now, I do not place any blame on you."

"Oh what a noble creature you are Melissia, indeed you are the Princess of all Princesses and I feel nothing but utter contempt for myself for being the coward that I am." A tear trickled down from the corner of Ithicus' eye.

Melissia reached up and wiped the tear away. "You are no coward Ithicus, you are simply a man doing his duty, nothing more nothing less." With that Melissia drifted back into a fitful sleep.

Three weeks later, Melissia found herself stifling her screams for a very different reason. Naked beneath a thin blanket, she writhed on her cot; arms outstretched; drenched in sweat. Her perfectly formed feet and muscular yet feminine legs jutted out of the blanket; toes curled. Beneath the blanket, Ithicus - with unprecedented expertise and enthusiasm - explored her glorious vagina with his brilliant tongue. He had been at it for two hours. He enjoyed the ache of his jaw; luxuriated in Melissia's dark, rich scent; drank in her sweet nectar greedily. He desired nothing but her pleasure. His own organ alternately swelled and shrank, but his urgent energy increased, superbly paced.

Melissia finally screamed. It was different from the sound torn from her under torture -- deep, throaty, insistently alive. On her third scream a name was almost torn from her. She began to cry out Helena's name, for it had only been from her beloved that she had felt such transcendent pleasure. Melissia stifled the cry, instantly perceiving the risk. Through the miasma of her rapture, she dimly perceived a foreshadowing. They would spare no effort to force her to scream out names under much different circumstances. She chuckled to herself; Ithicus had given her practice at being tight-lipped under such circumstances.

She thought of Helena. Her body and soul shook simultaneously, in perfect rhythm. She kept the vision of Helena before her. She wondered, for a split instant whether that vision would sustain her under the torture to come. Then her universe split; only impossibly intense pleasure remained. She had experienced so much sensation since presenting herself at the camp, but she had not imagined this sensation. She screamed one, final, endless time as Ithicus' expertise in her intimate geography fiendishly prolonged her now convulsive pleasure. She swooned - not in and out of consciousness, but in and out of an enhanced consciousness a higher place of purpose clarity certainty. In the final seconds, he tested her capacity for pleasure and she passed the test -- almost killing him in the process as she bucked and writhed, and wrapped her powerfully athletic legs around him. Then -- perfect peace; the convulsions becoming delicious shudders; the ecstasy coming back unexpectedly in waves and then even more delightful ripples, long after she thought it should have passed.

Ithicus lingered in her most private place, relishing it as the supreme goal of manhood to explore and service those incomparable inches. In the course of perfecting his craft he had visited inhospitable regions. Melissia was paradise. Defying his physician's craft, he had long since learned that every inch of her invited, seduced, and rewarded the explorer. He slowly disengaged; kissing his way to her mouth; inhaling her musk and flicking off her sweet sweat with his still dexterous tongue. As he approached her mouth, Melissia roughly took hold of his face with strong fingers and kissed him deeply, urgently. Now it was her turn to put her tongue to work and she did so with superhuman skill.

Several minutes later Melissia sighed with perfect contentment, she smiled and pointed to Ithicus' throbbing -- flopping might have been the better term -- phallus.

"I can help you with that thing. He needs some attention".

"I am the physician here Melissia. You will take my prescriptions."

"And so you have healed me". She stretched. The blanket fell from her. He gasped at her perfect beauty; rippling muscles; taut abdomen. With her eyes, she invited him to devour her with his. She flicked his leg playfully with one curled foot. Some scars remained visible, but Melissia had somehow appropriated them to enhance her beauty. The traces of torture only underscored her strength; the lines decorating and not vandalizing her unique architecture. She continued:

"I am perfectly healthy now, protected from their inquisition only by your lies." She laughed affectionately. "You are a fraud, Ithicus". A frown crossed her brow. "I will not have you risking yourself like that dear friend".