A STATE OF SERVITUDE 4, bondage stories



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The charioteers fought for the inside berth, flogging their own women and directing slashes of their whips at the breasts and bellies of the opposition if they could reach them, hoping to make them break stride or, at the very least, hurt them so much as to weaken them. In a torrent of cracking whips, cheering crowds, shrieking women and rumbling chariots, the four teams swept round, lap after lap. Eventually two teams were squeezed out, trailing hopelessly, while the remaining two raced neck and neck, the whips rising and falling. The Blue team just crept ahead, by the fullness of their great straining breasts, to win on the line. Claudia turned to the aide again for enlightenment, her face flushed with excitement.
"They seem very well trained," she remarked, "but they have been whipped cruelly."
"It was necessary to get the last out of them," the aide replied, "until they are in extremis they do not know themselves what they are capable of. However," he added, "they are not necessarily treated harshly otherwise."
"They live in stables," he explained. "They are like mares all the while they are in training, and treated very much like mares too. They are well fed, their diet and exercise closely controlled, their bodies carefully watched at all times to ensure perfect fitness."
"Then they are not flogged like that in training?" Claudia asked.
"It depends on the trainer, and the girl. Some girls have to be treated very harshly, especially at first, to make them work, while others come to it wanting to make their drivers proud of them. The drivers themselves have very different philosophies. Some, like the Red driver, believe in breaking the girls from the start, then keeping them in a state of constant fear by frequent application of the whip. And sometimes other methods too, A girl rebelling against the bit may meet hot irons in her vulva or on her teats, to make her bend."
"Are they all like that then?"
"By no means," her mentor responded, "there are some, like the Blue driver who won the last race, who believe that, once broken by a severe flogging, care and affection can make the girls willing to drive themselves to and beyond the limit, just to please him, and he is top of the ratings at present."
"I could see how that could be," said Claudia pensively, remembering the half naked figure of the young god who had driven the Germanic pair, his obviously generous male endowment straining against his simple waist covering. Feeling a seeping warmth between her legs at the thought of being in the power of his rippling muscles, she protested, "but he whipped his girls until the blood ran down their backs by the end."
"True, but they needed something more, and they will only love him more for having got them not to let him down by losing the race."
Claudia smiled secretly to herself. Yes, women, even her self, could be like that. Aloud she said, "My brother has caught the Governor`s eye. I must go to him."
The two young aristocrats approached and made their bows to the military figure, in spotless white toga with a band of the Imperial purple, who occupied the seat of honour overlooking the arena.
"Marcellus Julius Travinus, Your Excellency," the young man said by way of introduction. "May I present my sister - the Lady Claudia Travina."
The Governor nodded politely in acknowledgement to Claudia, but addressed his remarks to her brother.
"Greetings Marcellus. Welcome to our city. I am given to understand you have had to leave your home in rather a hurry. Well, we are glad to offer shelter here for an able-bodied man like yourself. And able bodied women too," he added, nodding again towards Claudia. "All are welcome here, where we need every man and woman we can muster."
"We are both very grateful for your hospitality," Marcellus assured him, "and very thankful to have reached Pityus. We were nearly captured by pirates when we tried to fetch Bysantium."
"Then you escaped a cruel fate," the Governor said, "we hear tales of men slaughtered and women debauched by those sea wolves."
He glanced at Claudia`s delightful figure, barely concealed by the fine drapery of her carefully chosen robe.




"It would have been a waste to have had you sister stripped and taken against a pirate`s mast. Still enough of such morbid thoughts. What are your impressions of our city so far?"
Marcellus laughed lightly.
"Why, your women," he answered.
"Our women?" the Governor replied. "Do they not please you?"
"Oh indeed!" the young Roman assured him. "They are very comely, from what I have seen so far, and that is rather more than I have been used to, but no more than I could find myself becoming very pleasantly accustomed to."
Claudia frowned, but he simply grinned at her and continued.
"It`s just that they seem to be everywhere, and everywhere naked. Why even the competitors in the arena were females, and as for the chariots -"
"Ah, yes," the Governor replied, "I can see it may come as a surprise to one from the outside. You must understand that we are very isolated here, thrown back on own resources entirely, and consequently we do things rather differently. We must, if we are to keep the Barbarian out. We have not succumbed to the degeneracies of Rome, for which she is paying so heavy a price. Out here on the frontier we manage things better. We have always known the danger, and that it could not be faced without the united strength of the whole population, women as well as men."
"But these women. Are they slaves?"
"Oh no, just working for the state. We need every man we can get to fight and to man the forts up in the mountains, which are our defence against the enemy, who presses harder every year. So that the men are not wasted, the women must work too. And perform as well," he added, "hence the scene in the arena. Placed as we are, so far from reinforcements and replacements and surrounded by barbarians, we cannot afford to waste a single male life. In fact we sometimes recruit women in emergencies, although loath to do so as they risk torture and rape if captured. Besides, it is dangerous to arm women and train them to fight. They might forget their place. The gladiatrices? Their life in the ring is usually short and painful. After they are made quiescent by the hot iron, it is a matter of debate if they remain women in the full sense at all, but even women must not be wasted. They fight, but not to the death. Even if wounded, they are usually saved, then put to stud. Even if maimed or scarred, they can still use their bellies to bear new soldiers for the state."
"I gather there are fights between rivals to settle disputes over men," Marcellus said, "and that the winner is sometimes allowed to de-sex her rival afterwards."
"Well, yes," the Governor remarked, "I don`t like to let it happen too often though, and the girl you saw this morning certainly didn`t deserve it. A very game one, if a little inexperienced, so it wouldn`t have been fair to have had her burnt."
"And the women we saw unloading the ship, and those hauling wagons in the streets, are they defaulters of some kind too?"
"Oh no," the Governor replied, "Those women would be doing their state service."
He looked away to where a knot of men were standing, their petitions at the ready, and down into the arena, where preparations were complete for the next event.
"I will have to finish this interview now," he said. "There are other petitioners waiting that I must not disappoint. Besides, there is a criminal to be punished, a shameless adultress, and I must watch the sentence in my official capacity. I would very much like to continue this conversation, and explain to you how things are here in Pityus. I would be most honoured if you, and your delightful sister, were to be my guests in the Palace while you are with us, and would both join me for dinner, when we can talk without being interrupted."
The two young people bowed and withdrew, turning away to view the arena again.




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