Rome 2800 - A Crucifixion

The Cult of Miseria

 The black government SUV drove through the streets of the city, the heavily tinted windows concealing the presence of the governor’s wife, Lady Constantia, and the condemned rebel, Alora. Exhausted from spending the better part of the day on a cross, Alora slipped into unconsciousness and didn’t see the passing scenery as the SUV left the city and climbed the hill that was topped by the governor’s villa. She began to stir as she was transferred to a wheelchair and rolled into the building, down a hallway, to a guest wing.

 Lady Constantia, her personal guards and two servants accompanied her into a well-appointed bedroom. The servants, a man and a woman, helped her out of the chair and onto the bed. They stepped aside. Lady Constantia stepped forward.

 “I would imagine that you want nothing more than rest now,” she said. “Aemilia and Claudio will be here to assist you if you need anything. A doctor will be here to attend to you in the morning. For now, Claudio has had some medical training, and is particularly well versed in treating bruises and abrasions. I will leave you to recover. We’ll speak more later.” She turned and left.

 Why would treating bruises and abrasions be among a house servant’s skills, Alora wondered.

 “Is there anything you need now, Miss?” the woman, Aemelia, asked. She was a petite brunette whose accent suggested Gallic origins.

 “Water,” Alora said, realizing just how thirsty she was. “Lots of water.”

 Aemilia went to a mini-fridge Alora hadn’t noticed and returned with two bottles. She opened one, handed it to Alora and placed the other on the nightstand. “There’s more in the fridge,” she said, “as well as fruit juices and sodas. Please help yourself. Is there anything else you need?”

 “Yes,” she replied after taking a big swig of water. “Can one of you remove this damned butt plug? They probably want it back.”

 “Certainly Miss,” Claudio said. He removed a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and put  them on. “If you’ll turn over, please, and raise your bottom.”

 Alora rolled over onto her stomach, pulling up the cape that was all she wore as she did so. She presented her butt. She felt fingers brushing her bottom as they positioned themselves on the base of the butt plug. She felt the plug begin to press against her sphincter.

“I shall pull the device out at the count of…”

 Alora screeched as the butt plug was jerked out of her anus.

 “I’m sorry, Miss, but I’ve found that such operations are usually best done as a  surprise. There is a tube of appropriate ointment in the bathroom, if you would like me to apply some.”

 “Thank you, but I think I’d rather do it myself.”

 “Very good, Miss. If there’s nothing else, we’ll leave you,” Claudio said. “I think you’ll find that a good night’s sleep is the best remedy for today’s exertions. There is a call button on the nightstand should you need anything.”

 They left the room, dimming the lights on the way out. Alora dropped the cape to the floor, pulled back the covers, drank some more water, and slid between the sheets. Exhaustion overruled any anxiety she felt about the coming day and she fell asleep immediately.

 Sunlight lighting up the room through the curtains woke her. She looked at the clock on the night stand. It was 10:30 in the morning. She got out of bed and went to the window, pulling the curtain back. Her room overlooked an enclosed, immaculately maintained garden. There was no one to be seen, which was good because she realized she was standing totally naked in front of the window.

 She glanced down at her breasts. They were covered in yellow, black and red bruises. The way that her ass and pussy felt, she was afraid to look at herself in the mirror.

 There was a light knock on the door. After a brief pause the door opened and Aemilia entered, carrying a covered tray. Alora blushed at being caught standing in there in the nude. If Aemelia was at all surprised or uncomfortable with the situation, she revealed nothing. She placed the tray on a small table.

 “Your breakfast, Miss,” she said brightly. “The mistress thought it was best to start with something light.” She lifted the cover to reveal fluffy scrambled eggs, a fruit bowl, and toast with  butter  and jam. There was a glass of orange juice on the tray. “If you wish coffee or tea, I will bring it immediately. The doctor should be here in about an hour. There is a menu on the counter with selections for lunch and dinner, next to the intercom. And you’ll find a selection of robes in the closet.”

 I’m being held in a fancy hotel, Alora thought. And how did the maid know she was up and about? She would have to inspect the room for hidden cameras.

 “Thank you…Aemilia. I’m fine for now.”

 Aemilia gave a small nod of her head and left. Alora went to the door after her and tried the knob. It was locked. She went back to the window and inspected it. There was no way to open it. She went to inspect the bathroom. No windows. So, there was nothing to do but have breakfast and try not to worry about what was going on. She went to the closet and picked out a robe. They were all silk, in the style of Nippon. The price of just one would probably pay a laborer’s wages for a month or more.

 A large screen TV was mounted on one wall. She tried the remote unit and found it worked. It carried all the popular channels, heavily slanted towards Rome. There was the 24/7 news reporting from the Empire’s administrative capital at Milano. Several channels were carrying the currently popular historical miniseries about Rome’s conquest of the lands across the ocean. Out of curiosity, she tuned in the local news to see if there was coverage of her almost execution the previous day, or mention of Felix. For all she knew, he was still hanging on the cross, hoping to die soon. A wave of guilt passed over her, but she reminded herself that dead she could do nothing. Alive she still might be able to help the Resistance.

 The doctor arrived as promised, escorted in by Lady Constantia herself. He had her stand up, drop, drop her robe, and examined her minutely. He took her vitals. His manner, she thought, was more like a veterinarian examining a pet cat than a physician with a patient. He assured Lady Constantia that there was no serious injury to be found, prescribed rest and gave her a small bottle of antibiotics to be taken over the next several days.

 When the doctor had gone, Lady Constantia motioned for Alora to take a seat on the bed. She herself remained standing.

 “No doubt you’re wondering why I had my husband commute your sentence,” Lady Constantia said.

 “Yes,” Alora replied, trying not to become sarcastic. “I have wondered.”

 “You see, I observed you on the cross and I saw some characteristics I admired. For one, you may have screamed but you never whined or begged. That shows a certain strength. Do you perhaps have some Roman blood in your family?”

 “Not that I know of,” Alora said.

 “A shame. You seemed like you might. You’re a very strong woman. There was a reason I had the executioner change the electrodes so they concentrated on the little goddess between your legs. Few women would be able to tolerate such intense pain as you did without passing out.”

 “Um, thank you?”

 “For now, you must rest and regain your strength. I have a purpose in mind for you. It will be explained in due course.”

 “And what’s in it for me?” Alora asked defiantly.

 Lady Constantia laughed. “There it is. That attitude. I knew I’d chosen rightly. What’s in it for you, my dear? You get to live another day. We’ll talk more soon.”

 With that she turned and left. Alora put her robe back on and, if she was going to live another day, decided she should order some lunch.

 At mid-afternoon of the third day of her confinement Claudio came to the apartment to fetch her. He led her through the hallways of the sprawling villa to a large assembly room. The décor was clearly imitative of ancient Rome, with furnishings being modern interpretations of classic designs found in a museum. One wall displayed the famous fresco of the cult of Isis, well known from the excavated villa at Pompeii.

 Lady Constantia was seated at a small table with another woman, sharing cups of tea. They both stood up as Claudio presented Alora and then left. This new woman was a bit older than Lady Constantia, perhaps mid-sixties to Constantia’s mid-50’s. They both had the matronly build of an upper-class Roman wife, with perfectly coifed hair. Lady Constantia’s tailored clothing was clearly of a higher quality, but the visitor’s was well above what an ordinary woman would be wearing.

 “So, this is your new novice,” the woman said.

 “Yes, Lucania,” Lady Constantia replied. “This is Alora, who was to have died on the cross.”

 “But you saved her for better things,” Lucania said. “Could you remove your robe, girl?”

 It was phrased as a question, but the way she said it indicated that it was an order. Alora saw nothing to be gained by resisting. She undid the waist tie of the robe and let it slip from her shoulders.

 “Yes. A beautiful body to be sure. Turn around, please.”

 Alora turned and presented her backside. She felt Lucania’s hands trace the outline of her hips and buttocks.

 “Quite nice. Turn around again.”

 Alora turned to face Lucania. Lucania reached out and cupped  Alora’s breasts in her hands. She examined the nipples, manipulating them, then lifted her breasts by the nipples and let them drop. Alora gritted her teeth and tried to convince herself that a little humiliation was better than a slow death.

 “She heals rapidly? I see the bruises are almost gone.”

 “Yes. She’s very healthy, with a strong constitution.”

 Lucania knelt down and examined Alora’s crotch. She gently pushed Alora’s legs apart and spread her lower lips. With one hand she retracted Alora’s clitoral hood.

 “Ah, there is it. As you said, she has a lovely little goddess. We can work with that.”

 And what the fuck did she mean by that? Alora thought. What were these Roman whores up to?

 Lucania stood up and returned to her seat.

 “You may cover yourself, Alora,” Lady Constantia said. She returned to her seat as well.

 “Now, you no doubt wonder why I’ve had you brought here. Well, Lucania and I belong to the Mystery of Miseria, the goddess of suffering and sorrow. Lucania is our high priestess. I am but a humble acolyte. We have a small sisterhood formed of some of the best women of the city. It is our purpose to placate the goddess through our sacrifices. From what I observed of you on the cross, I believe you could offer a most satisfactory sacrifice to Miseria.”

 “You’re going to sacrifice me, kill me? To please your goddess?” Alora almost shouted, outraged. Just her luck to have been “saved” by one of the bizarre cults the Roman upper class seemed addicted to.

 “You misunderstand me, Alora. Your sacrifice will not be your life but your suffering.

Tomorrow night we will hold a service. It will not be your time to sacrifice, but perhaps you will understand our purpose better after watching. Until then, rest and regain your strength.”

 She pressed a small remote control. Claudio entered moments later and escorted her back to her room.

 The next day, at sundown, Claudio came for Alora. She’d been advised to have an early, light dinner, then a good soak in the tub, which she had done, and she was waiting for him wrapped in one of the silk robes. He led her to the meeting room. A half dozen women had assembled, including Lady Constantia and the priestess Lucania. They all wore expensive looking clothes modeled after the long sleeved, floor length stola women wore in ancient Rome.

 “Ladies,” Constantia said, indicating Alora, “this is our new novice, Alora, who will be observing the offering ceremony tonight.”

 They all turned to smile at her. Some made greeting sounds. She glanced at them. They were all very much like Lady Constantia, between fifty and sixty, stylish hair revealing traces of gray. Except for one woman. She was probably early twenties, slender but shapely, with black hair worn short and a pale complexion speaking of northern origins. She came the few steps to Alora, placed a hand on her forearm.

 “Welcome. I’m Lavinia.”

 Aemilia was there, carrying a tray with small glasses of wine. Alora took one and downed it. If nothing else, Lady Constantia served good wine. She signaled to Aemilia.

 “Might I have another?”

 “Sorry, Miss, but only one is recommended before the service.”

 Well, that was strange, and maybe a little disturbing. Why be so stingy with the wine?

 Lady Constantia rapped on her wine glass. “It’s time, ladies. Let’s proceed to the chambers.”

 She and Lucania crossed the room to where a concealed door opened. The other women fell into line, two by two, behind them, with Alora trailing. The younger woman turned and smiled at Alora as they passed through the door.

 The doorway opened on a passage and steps going down. Sconces set in the wall lit the way. There were three flights of stairs before it opened onto a large vaulted room which Alora estimated must be thirty to forty feet beneath the villa. It appeared to be a dressing room, with shelves along the wall and benches facing them, and the entrance to a lavatory to one side.

 Without a word of direction, the women began disrobing, which was a simple process as none were wearing undergarments beneath their stola. Alora followed suit, removing her robe and placing it on a shelf. Alora couldn’t help looking at her companions. They were as might be expected, mature, with the added padding that came with motherhood and middle age, breasts full and pendulous, bottoms well padded. But they were also fit and trim in the manner of wealthy women who could afford spas and gymnasium memberships.

 With a start Alora realized that the women were showing signs of arousal. Their faces and upper chests were becoming flushed. She thought their nipples were becoming hard, though since most already had the enlarged nipples resulting from nursing children it was hard to tell. Except for Lavinia, who was clearly a maiden and whose small nipples were clearly engorged. The flush also showed up noticeably on her pale complexion.

 And with even more surprise Alora realized she herself was becoming somewhat aroused. She felt her nipples, and the urge to reach between her legs. It was the wine, she thought. They put something in the wine. No wonder Aemilia had warned her not to take another.

 To Alora’s shock, the women began placing spring loaded clamps on their nipples. There were several on the shelf where she’d placed her robe. She picked one up and examined it, tested the strength of the spring, and decided she really didn’t want it on her nipple. She put it back on the shelf and hoped Lady Constantia wouldn’t insist on her wearing them. There were also small figurines on the shelves. She picked one up. It was a crude figure of a goddess, heavy for its size, probably made of lead. She watched Lavinia hang one on the clamp on her left nipple, without wincing. The other women were doing the same.

 And then they started putting clamps on their outer labia, followed by the weights. Alora involuntarily winced as she saw the weights released and the labia distending.  

 When they were all prepared, Lucania took a large candle from a shelf and lit it. She went to stand in front of a door opposite the one they’d entered through. Lady Constantia fingered a control panel near the door, then went to stand behind the priestess. In a moment the door slid open, revealing darkness. Dim, flickering lights appeared on the side walls of a passageway, LEDs imitating torches and illuminating a stairway. Lucania and Lady Constantia led the way down the stairs, through an arched doorway into a dome shaped chamber, made to look like a natural grotto.

 More of the imitation torches were spaced around the walls. At the far side, opposite the entry way, a statue, nearly life size, occupied a niche carved out of the wall. It appeared to Alora to be just another generic depiction of a Roman goddess, of the sort they’d planted in every city of the empire. As Alora studied it, lights came on behind it, bathing the alcove in shifting shades of red and yellow. As an added touch, the statues eyes began to glow red.

 In front of the alcove, as a sort of altar, stood a heavy marble table. Two thick, white candle had been placed at either end. Between them an array of implements had been laid out, whips, canes, straps. In the center of the room stood a frame, made of metal pipe, two uprights and a crossbar at the top. It was three and a half feet across and nearly eight feet tall. It seemed ominous to Alora.

 Lucania approached the altar and lit the candles. The other women arranged themselves in a half circle behind her. Alora hung back behind them.

 Lucania faced the statue and raised her arms in the traditional gesture of supplication.

 “Oh divine Miseria,” she called out. “We come to seek your protection. Intercede for us with Jupiter. Intercede for us with Neptune. Intercede for us with Volcan. Save our city from their anger and displeasure.”

 The women repeated the formula. Twice more Lucania pronounced the appeal, echoed by the others. Then she turned to face the women.

 “Who wishes to make an offering?” Lucania asked

 “I do,” one of the women replied.

 “Very well,” Lucania said, “Terencia shall make the first offering. Martia, Silvana, prepare her.”

 The two women moved low benches into place, one against the inside of each upright. Terencia came forward and was helped to kneel on the benches. She bent forward at the hips. The women place a padded crossbar between the uprights, across the small of Terencia’s back, fastening it place.  They fastened arms, each with a handgrip at the end, to the uprights at the level of her torso. Terencia reached out and grasped them. The position left Terencia’s bottom and her sex fully exposed, and her large breasts dangling at full extension.

 Terencia raised her head and looked at the statue. She cried out, “Dea Miseria, accipe oblationem meam. Goddess Miseria, accept my offering.”

 Lucania picked up a stiff leather strap. In a loud voice she called out, “Dea Miseria, accipe dolorem nostrum ut famem tuam placare possis.”

 She gave Terencia’s left breast a hard swipe with the strap that set the dangling organ swinging. She repeated the motion with a back hand to the right breast, making it swing as well. Terencia only grunted slightly, keeping her eyes on the statue.

 The other women now selected leather straps and small floggers from those arrayed on the altar. The two women, Martia and Silvana, concentrated on whipping Terencia’s ample bottom while Lady Constantia applied the strap to her breasts. One after another the clamps on Terencia’s nipples slipped and fell to the floor. Lady Constantia returned the strap to the altar and picked up a thin, whippy plastic rod. She began lightly swinging the rod against her breasts. It appeared to Alora to be a light tapping motion, but the grimace on Terencia’s face and the whimpering noises she made said otherwise, especially when Lady Constantia began concentrating more on her nipples. 

 Lavinia had come to stand next to Alora.

 “Why aren’t you taking part?” Alora asked in a whisper.

 “I haven’t made an offering yet,” Lavinia replied. “One must make an offering before they can assist at one.”

 One of the other women, Alora still wasn’t sure which was Martia and which was Silvana, reached between Terencia’s thighs and removed the clamps from her labia. Lucania had gone to the altar, picked up the candles, and returned to stand in front of Terencia. She bent forward to hold the candles below Terencia’s breasts, not close enough to burn her but close enough for her to feel the heat on her nipples.

 “Oh Miseria,” Terencia cried out in a voice that was now quavering with mixed pain and fear, “accept my suffering. Save our city from the horror of fire.”

 Lucania moved around to her side. With a sweeping motion she poured a stream of melted wax down Terencia’s back, ending on her left buttock. By accident or design, some of the wax ran down over her anus and onto her vulva. Lucania went to the other side and repeated the process. This time Alora was certain that the priestess intentionally allowed wax to run down onto the woman’s vulva.

 Lucania returned the candles to the altar. While she’d been pouring wax on Terencia, Martia and Silvana had gone to the altar and returned, each carrying a polished wooden device that resembled an oversized nutcracker. They positioned themselves, one to either side of  Terencia, and trapped her breasts between the jaws of the nutcrackers. They slowly squeezed them.

 Lady Constantia had retrieved her leather strap and positioned herself facing Terencia’s bottom, making Alora and Lavinia move off to the side. With slow, deliberate strikes she snapped the end of the strap against Terencia’s buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Then she aimed the strap directly at Terencia’s vulva, dislodging the hardened wax. She followed the first strike with two more. Terencia moaned and jerked reflexively each time the strap hit her most sensitive place.

 Lucania came to stand next to Lady Constantia. She carried a short stick which served as a  handle for a stout dildo. She was smearing the dildo with a greasy substance. Lady Constantia stepped aside. Lucania placed a hand on Terencia’s left buttock, placed the tip of the dildo against her anus, and began to push and twist it. Slowly it entered her. Terencia’s thighs were visibly trembling, but she could be seen to be pushing back against the intruder. When the dildo was fully seated, Lucania began slowly working it in and out.

 Next to Alora, Lavinia gasped. Alora glanced at her. Her face was a mixture of surprise and excitement.

 “Can you imagine?” she whispered. “A woman of Terencia’s class agreeing to be taken in the manner of a common harlot? Such a humiliation. Such a sacrifice.”

 “She agreed to this?” Alora asked.

 “Of course. Every act of a sacrifice is agreed to in advance.”

 Are they going to extend that courtesy to me? Alora thought.

 Lucania rhythmically pumped the dildo in and out of Terencia’s anus. The other women began beating time against their thighs. Lady Constantia knelt down next to Lucania. She reached below the thrusting dildo and began manipulating Terencia’s clitoris.

 “It is done,” Terencia cried out moments later.  She went limp and would have fallen forward if Martia and Silvana hadn’t caught her.

 Lucania removed the dildo. Martia and Silvana returned their implements to the altar, removed the bar across her back, and helped her to her feet. They walked her over to where a thick foam pad lay on the floor near the entrance and lowered her onto it. One of the women lay down with her and cradled her.

 Lucania replaced the dildo on the altar and faced the statue. Raising her arms in supplication she again recited the formula three times, the other women echoing her. She turned to them.

 “Does anyone else wish to make an offering?” she asked.

Lavinia stepped forward. Alora felt a strange sense of dismay as the young woman said, “I wish to make an offering.”

To be continued….