Don Winslow: Slave Girls Of Rome

As the last of the train passed by I found myself following the parade to the slave market, eager to see if this Nordic goddess would be put upon the block today. Such a splendid specimen would certainly fetch a healthy price from any of a dozen of the best-known procurers, but it was more likely that some wealthy patron would pay dearly to add the blonde beauty to his private collection. Of course, with two coins in my purse, there was no way I could even dream of buying such a woman myself. That was out of the question!

Still, I was intrigued by her. I wanted desperately to see her standing on the raised platform: a splendid nude, presented in all her naked glory for public inspection, posed for the edification of the Roman rabble. Would her regal demeanor falter when the strong, proud female met her fate? Would the look of sullen defiance in her brooding blue eyes give way to fear when she found herself naked and alone on the raised platform before the lusty, bawdy crowd that inevitably gathered to eagerly watch the public spectacles the auctions provided?

Their destination was the largest and best of the pubic auctions run by two brothers named Maximus. By the time I got there, a good-sized crowd was already on hand, with more gathering every minute. The slaves were being lined up, connecting chains undone. They would mount the auction block singly, to be inspected and sold to the highest bidder. The slaves’ manacles were removed, and a wide leather collar was fixed around each neck A thin rawhide strip attached to the collar was used as a lead, so that the handler could bring the slave forward to be presented.

By now the captives would be properly cowed. The heavy whip that was used in the early days of captivity and retained for the most recalcitrant, could be dispensed with easily for this lot To keep their charges in line, the more skillful handlers need only employ a thin hickory switch.

The pace was smooth and businesslike. Each slave was made to mount the steps and there to suffer the indignities of being closely examined by the chief auctioneer, one of the Maximus brothers, who conducted the sort of thorough inspection one would expect to see if he were buying a valuable horse. Once he was well satisfied, the auctioneer set the starting price, and the bidding began.

I recognized this particular fellow: a skinny bald gnome named Glutus, and I watched the obvious pleasure he took in his task I saw the leer than came over his lips when women were about to be placed in his hands. He would make them do his bidding, adopting all sorts of poses to show off their best features while he went over the fine merchandise meticulously with his hands, lingering especially with the females, feeling here and there, probing this or that. The man obviously loved his work!

Bidding that day was hot and heavy, and the line moved quickly. I pushed my way through the crowd, eager to see more as her time came and the big blonde moved to the head of the line to have her manacles removed. She stood with eyes front, ignoring the rough handler who fitted the wide leather collar around her neck, then paused to run a callused hand down over her left tit and grab a quick feel before he attached the rawhide lead. Now he led the stately blonde to the steps.

The burly handler held the girl’s lead in one hand. The other held a thin, pliant rod, no thicker than a finger at the blunt end and tapering to a point at the other. He wielded the rod skillfully, careful to use it only on the fleshy hindquarters of the more attractive slaves so as not to damage that valuable property. He was not a particularly cruel man, but he was impatient. I saw a flick of his wrist, and the girl’s hips jerked forward as the rod struck her handsome rump solidly, impelling her to step lively in spite of herself. He led the naked young woman up the steps and brought her to the center of the high, square platform.

The crowd seemed to quiet down as though sensing something special was about to take place.

“Stand at attention! Clasp your hands behind your neck! Elbows back…head up!” Glutus snapped, stepping up to the tall blonde till he was close to but not touching her, to stand with his eyes just inches from the side of her pale face, appraising her long, clean lines coolly.

At first the blonde barbarian didn’t move a muscle, but a sharp whack on her bare bottom reminded her of the imperative of instant obedience. Her shoulders shot up in abrupt recoil, and she turned to look at her handler with a look of definite disdain. But the wicked rod in his hand rose only slightly. It was enough to cause her to turn back immediately and to bring up her arms slowly to assume the required pose, throwing back her shoulders, thrusting out her firm breasts proudly, locking her eyes on some distant horizon.

There was a lively murmur of approval from the crowd.

The lecherous old goat licked his chops as he passed his hands up and down that magnificent form, feeling up the captive woman freely, savoring each feminine curve and contour, caressing the taut mounds of her breasts, sampling her nipples, slipping his hands between her legs to fondle the soft folds of her blonde sex, greedily exploring the mounds and crevices of that splendid nude body. He looked in her mouth, pushed back her lips to examine her clenched teeth as if she were a mare, and ran his hands up and down her sleek haunches.

Then the randy auctioneer stepped back to put the big blonde through her paces. He had her widen her stance and then drop her arms and lean forward with head raised and hands placed just above the knees, so that her rich, full breasts swung forward to hang in two succulent mounds while she looked out over her audience. Now he brought up his pointed stick and used it to trace a line up the side of her curved body, starting at the nearest sturdy thigh and moving up over the generous cradle of her hip, then onward up her flank till the traveling point slid around under her bent torso and found a dangling tit. Now he used the stick to stir the helpless woman’s tits, flicking them up so they jiggled most delightfully, as laughter ran through the crowd. He traced a line from under the hanging breasts over a hard nipple and up the slope, outlining the generous curve of ripe feminine pulchritude.

A nod to his assistant had the stocky man step up and grab a fistful of the blonde hair at the back of the girl’s head, forcing his captive to raise her shoulders and deepen the curve in her back And then, while she was being held like that, she was ordered to bring up her hands to cup her ample breasts and offer them to the hungry audience, in a pose that got an immediate roar of lusty approval.

Now her tormentor used the rod to toy with the proffered tits. The devilish instrument pressed in, indenting the soft flesh, testing the resiliency of the breast, the softness of the enticing flesh, the underlying firmness. He spent a long time teasing her nipples, moving from one to the other, scratching lightly at the hardening points, then flicking the pliant little tip that seemed to stand up so hopefully under the mild stimulation till he had the big pink nipples blossoming. Another roar of approval swept though the restless crowd.

I marveled at her control as she held herself perfectly still while the wicked pointer invited the crowd to appreciate the strength of her long, finely muscled legs and robust thighs. Enjoying himself thoroughly, Glutus was clearly playing to the excited mob. After a few minutes of this, he had her drop her arms, rise up to her full height, and stand once more at attention, hands loosely at her sides, legs firmly together. Then he had the young woman turn around so that her back was toward the audience. We were greeted by our first view of her long, gently sloping back and the comely form of her shapely rear end. Looking closely, one could make out two faint pink welts that crossed her buttocks, traces of the whipping rod that had been laid so smartly across her bottom earlier. The pointer traced down her back and over the twin swells of the woman’s lush bottom.