The legionaires push forward eagerly, jostling with one another to be the first to violate yours and the other Iceni royals battered bodies. The men unbutton their loose woolen trousers as they form unruly queues. Fishing out their cocks and stroking them to erection as the bicker with one another establishing the order in which they intend to rape you. A scuffle breaks out in front of you and the snot nosed legionaire, with dried blood still crusting his face knocks the other challangers aside. He grabs your legs roughly by the ankles and turns your swinging body to face him.
"Not so feisty now, are you bitch?" The man taunts, his speech deformed by his recently flattened nose.
He forces your legs wide apart and presses forward, using the bulk of his body between your thighs to spread them further. He gropes at his crotch and guides his dick to it's target. A hot and hard blunt force prods at your stinging vulva as he fumbles to align his cock. You close your eyes tightly, trying to deny to yourself that the simulation makes this seem so real. There's a stabbing pain between your legs and you feel the man's cockhead press against your pussylips and in horrible slow motion you feel yourself parting as his cocktip's pressure opens your labial lips. You try to turn your body, but are unable to do more than wriggle in the soldier's tight grip.
"Oh yeah, that's the spot." The man mutters to himself, feeling his pricks head push aside the fleshy petals of your quim.
He jabs his hips forward and you cry out, not through pain, but from the shame and outrage of being penetrated. An awful sensation of heat and fullness registers on your numbed mind as his cock forces it's way inside of you. After the flogging you've suffered the actual pain of penetration is minimal, other parts of your abused body still feel like liquid fire and hurt elsewhere is swamped by this.
Only when the legionaire reaches around your body and grabs your small switch striped buttocks do you feel real pain, hot and flaring across your ass. He starts to hump away at your cunt like a rutting dog. You feel the awful movement of his filthy cock inside, but that seems nothing to the bitter sting from your asscheeks gripped in his fists. More than the pain however it's the sensation of impotance and helplessness that strikes to your core and the knowledge that the legionaire is simply using you as an object for his own self gratification. These feelings wound deeper than the livid marks that must stripe your back and suddenly hot tears flood your eyes and course down your cheeks.
"That's right bitch, cry like a baby." The legionaire gloats. "Look here's your mommy to wipe your eyes."
The legionaire grabs your jaw and turns your head so that you stare at queen Boudicca. Her eyes are a pale blue like the sky in autumn and reflect both intense pity at your suffering and an unquenchable hatred for those who caused it. Unlike yourself and your sister the queen is left unmolested, forced to witness the indignity inflicted upon her flesh and blood as she hangs by her wrists.
The urgent fucking of the legionaire between your spread legs abruptly ceases and the man grunts and gives a long satisfied sigh. Overexcited by the sadistic torture he's helped to inflict the man has lasted barely a minute before shooting his seed. He pulls himself free, his cock already wilting and drops of semen dripping from it's pisshole. He turns away, his interest in you satisfied. Another Roman immediately takes his place, reaching for you greedily and muttering fresh taunts that barely register.
One after another those legionaires claiming injury against you take their turn to rut at your abused body like pigs. Some may have come more than once or taken a turn at both yourself and your sister, you no longer pay attention. None of them last any extended length of time, merely using you to unload their balls and then withdrawing. You've become deaf to the curses and taunts as they use you, hanging limply by your aching arms and spreading your legs automatically as each man steps forward. Eventually it occurs to you that the carousal of sweaty pressing bodies has ended and that you're simply hanging with your toes scraping the dirt.
"Have you all had your fill of their cunts?" You hear the legate's voice ask.
You lift your head with extreme effort and look around you through tear reddened eyes. The Roman's appear to be reforming their column and preparing to march out. The dark skinned horseman leads a squad back from the huts, carrying small coffers to be strapped to the horses.
"Ah Africanus, you've yet to take your compensation from the little whore that unhorsed you." Quintus says to the cavalry officer.
The man looks over at you and his face becomes angry and disgusted. To his fellow Roman's this must seem directed at you, but you can see his eyes. For you there is empathy and compassion, the first shown by any of the soldiers. He turns away to his horse, securing the straps holding one of the boxes containing the looted coin.
"It grows late Quintus Petillius." The decurian says evenly. "We should start back if we're to reach Durobrivea in two days."
"No real hurry." Quintus pushes the point. "Look around you, these Iceni dogs are whipped, just as surely as their queen was. It will take but a minute or two for you to empty your ballsack into the little slut."
"These women are not to my tastes legate." The African states. "I've no wish to make use of her."
"Really? Not to your tastes you say, then maybe we have something in common, eh Africanus?" Quintus laughs. "If you'd prefer something different I could have a boy seized from the village. There must be a comely youth or two in this shithole. This wasn't a request, Romes honour has been insulted, before we leave you must fuck one of these Britunculi."
The officer looks over at you, his face hidden from the other Roman's by his horse. His face is red with anger and his hand rests on the hilt of his sword, his fingers twitching. You realise that he fully intends to fight rather than rape anyone. |