I
Punitive Expedition
The sun had fallen hours before we approached the village of Tov Kepha. Flavius Gaius,
the first Centurion of our cohort had accompanied our expedition. I did not resent this
intrusion upon my command, we were good friends, and he allowed me free reign over my men.
I suggested Flavius remain a mile to the west of the village with half the century while I
led the remaining men south to circle around and take up our position on the eastern
approach. We moved through the night with the quiet stealth of the best-trained century in
the legion. I am Centurion Cassius Priscus, I lead the first century of the third cohort;
the pride of the tenth legion. For the last two years we have been reduced to chasing
thieves and fighting goat herders. Still it was better for the men than wasting their pay
on cheap whores and cheaper wine: such was the curse of garrison duty.
The men settled in to catch a few hours` sleep. The morning would bring the slaughter
that passed for battle these days. They were tired enough from ten days of trudging over
this land forsaken by all of the gods. Now vengeance was at hand.
Three weeks ago five members of their century had been volunteered to escort a
local tax collector. It was a safe, simple, boring duty, inflicted on them for some minor
and long forgotten transgression. They had been seen stopping at five villages. Taxes were
collected without incident, always much easier with a few armed Legionaries at your back.
Then they had simply disappeared. The tax collector, escort, and taxes, all vanished
without a trace. We had been sent to investigate.
Behind me a squirming sack fell to the ground with a thud. Marcus, my adjutant, unloaded
our prisoner from the back of his donkey. A fat little man who claimed to be the priest,
or teacher, from the very village we were now encircling. His nose was now swollen and
bent unnaturally to the right; a result of his own reluctance during his brief
interrogation. It was broken but the bleeding had stopped. We had captured him two days
ago. He had been heading west and ran at the first sight of us. When we searched him we
found over 300 shekels as well as 900 denarii, the very coin used to pay taxes. After a
brief but energetic questioning he told us at least part of the tale.
He claimed the tax collector was dead. Stoned by the local villagers we were now
encircling. The taxes were now recovered from our prisoner, who swore he was trying to
return them. A difficult claim to support as he was headed directly away from the
provincial capital. The only thing the village priest steadfastly refused to disclose was
the fate of the military escort. That we would learn soon enough; for now the priest
remained gagged. He would warn no one of our presence.
The guard was posted and the rest of the men slept. With the first sign of false
dawn the legionnaires were roused and silently donned their gear as we prepared for
battle. At my signal our horn was sounded; far to the west another answered our call. The
men moved out in formation and quickly entered the wakening village. The villagers were
herded to the communal well near the center of Tov Kepha. There were some 80 to 100 people
in the village but less than 40 adult males. No resistance was offered.
“Who speaks for this village?” Flavius Galarius bellowed at the cowering throng.
None of them seemed to understand Latin so I repeated this in the native tongue.
The crowed muttered and parted exposing an older man with a graying beard, his wife, son,
and daughter stood by his side.
“I am the village elder.”
He said this with a twinge of fear in his quavering voice. I moved to stand in
front of the man, two soldiers accompanied me. The priest was still held at the edge of
the village, so that none knew he was our prisoner.
“Where is the tax collector?” I asked calmly.
The man`s eyes darted to the left and right. He swallowed hard thinking before he
answered me.
“He never arrived in our village sir.”
The old man lied with barely a tremble in his voice. I nodded to the two soldiers
who had accompanied me. One reached forward grabbing the man’s son by his hair and yanking
him forward. The boy stumbled to his knees and the second soldier brought his sword down
on the exposed neck nearly severing it. The man`s wife screamed. She rushed forward
gathered her fallen son in her arms, helplessly trying to hold the flopping head in place
as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Fresh blood soaked her robe as she wailed in
disbelief.
“Where is the tax collector?” I repeated.
I spoke slightly louder to be heard over the weeping woman. The man pulled his eyes
away from his dead son and looked coldly at me.
“The tax collector is dead. He was found with another man`s wife. He was stoned to
death under our laws.”
He spoke rapidly in a monotone, condemning his entire village with his words.
“You live under Roman law now.” I informed him. “and where are the taxes he had
collected?”
The old man barely hesitated. He spoke rapidly daring to hope we would forgive his
people if we recovered the money.
“The village priest has taken the money to the Governor where he will explain the
situation and plead for mercy.”
“What happened to the soldiers who escorted him?” I asked.
Now true terror showed in the old mans eyes; he hesitated, thinking before he
spoke.
“They ran off, fled, when they failed to protect…”
I never let him finish his lie. With a nod from me, the bloody sword swung downward
cleaving into the wife`s skull like a ripe melon. Her laments ended as her lifeless body
flopped down next to her son.
“Where are they?” I asked angrily.
He stared at his dead wife in disbelief but said nothing. I nodded again and his
daughter was dragged forward. Once more, the bloody sword was drawn back.
“No! Stop! I`ll show you, spare her, please.”
I held up my hand staying her execution, for now. The old one was true to his word.
He led us to a cairn in a dry riverbed. Under the stones were the bodies of the missing
soldiers and the tax collector. The soldiers were not nearly as decomposed as time would
warrant and had a bluish tint to their skin.
“Poison?” I asked.
The old man nodded listlessly.
Now that we had answered all the questions, the century moved quickly. Villagers
were divided into two groups. Those fit enough to make a forced march to the Capitol,
without slowing us down, where gathered and placed under guard. All others were
immediately put to the sword. The only exceptions were the priest, the elder, and his
daughter. In the end 18 men, 7 women, the priest and the elder remained alive. There was
little of value to pillage but the men gathered a modest amount of silver and copper
trinkets. A second donkey was procured for the village elder before all the livestock was
slaughtered. The waddle buildings were soaked with oil and set ablaze. A few heads were
staked at the entrances of the village as a warning to any passerby. The First Century
formed a phalanx around their prisoners and began the long march back to the capitol.
I studied the elder as we marched toward the capitol. He was terrified of course,
and with good reason, but he didn`t allow it to show. He talked quietly with his daughter.
He was unused to riding on animals and his daughter stayed by his side steadying him as he
swayed on the donkey`s back. His daughter was old enough to have married and borne
children, but she still seemed fresh and comely. I learned her name, Rebecca. Perhaps she
was the choicest of the female prisoners; I certainly wouldn’t turn her away. I’m sure
many a disappointed lad had bartered for her hand, but the old man had clung to her. Now
she would never marry nor have children. Her fate was sealed, that was the price of
conspiring against Rome.
The column halted at midday and the prisoners were quickly feed and watered. The
soldiers grumbled at the delay, they normally ate their fistful of grain and drank their
watered wine as they marched. The advance resumed as soon as the prisoners were finished
and continued without pause until we made our camp long after dusk.
The march continued, inevitably slowed by the pace of the prisoners who were
footsore after the first day. It was well after sunset on the fourth day before we arrived
at the gates of the Capital. The officer of the watch sang out his challenge then opened
the gate for us when he saw the prisoners we brought.
It was eerie to march through the silent and deserted streets to our citadel. The
men were exhausted, but still they deserved some reward for completing their mission. The
male prisoners were secured in the empty paddock and eight legionaries were assigned to
guard them. The women were marched to the parade ground, at the center of the citadel.
Dozens of flickering torches set in sconces along the eastern and northern walls
cast an eerie illumination on the central square. The men formed up on the parade ground
and lit watch fires along the southern edge to add a bit more light to the proceedings.
The parade ground was used for formal assemblies as well as military drills. Two
whipping posts half the height of a man stood along the northern wall as well as a long
bench used to hold a prisoner being questioned under torture. A chopping block used for
military executions completed the assembly. The women were obviously frantic as they
backed away from the advancing men, forced slowly backward toward these devices.
The century assembled facing the woman. Nine ranks of eight soldiers and 20
auxiliaries were all staring at the prisoners with a hunger that had wiped all thoughts of
exhaustion from their minds. I stepped between the men and the prisoners.
“These women will be brought before the Governor in the morning.” I addressed them.
“In the morning they will all be alive, not visibly injured, and properly dressed
again. Do I make myself clear?”
I am not given to long speeches, but the men understood. A roar of approval went up
from the ranks. I stepped to the right and let Marcus take charge of the preparations. The
women screamed and shrieked in dismay as two ranks of soldiers moved forward and began to
strip and bind them.
In short order Marcus reported all was in readiness. I surveyed his handiwork. All
seven of the female prisoners were naked. Their clothing formed a loose pile against the
wall. Four of the women now knelt along the length of the bench, they were bent over its
width and their wrists had been pulled underneath and tied to their ankles. They were
faced in alternate directions the first facing the wall and the next staring at the
leering troops. Four naked bottoms trembled in the flickering light waiting to be used.
Two other women were simply bent over the short whipping posts, with their wrists bound to
the embedded iron rings. They where able to partially shield their nakedness, by twisting
around to the far side of the posts One had even managed to cross her legs pressing them
tightly together as if that would somehow save her from my lustful soldiers. The elder`s
daughter, the one called Rebecca, now knelt before the chopping block her neck resting in
its blood stained groove and her hands bound to the iron ring at its base. She was the
closest to the men but facing the wall, staring at the other bound and naked women.
I was the senior Officer and was expected to take first choice in all plunder. In
the interest of morale, I stepped forward and inspected the naked offerings in the
flickering light. As I walked among the bound prisoners, my hand wandered across their
bare flesh. Smooth round asses quivering with dread as nipples hardened in the cool night
breeze. Some of the woman were sobbing, others pleading, a few were mumbling prayers but
Rebecca remained silent, her eyes now tightly closed as she knelt, terrified, desperate,
waiting. That made my choice easier. I shifted my Braccae aside. I tucked the front of my
tunic up into my belt before pulling off my loincloth. She shivered with fright as I knelt
down behind her. Leaning forward the bottom edge of my hardened leather breastplate dug
into the smooth curve of her naked ass. I reached down and cupped her dangling breasts.
She gasped when I cruelly twisted her hardening nipples. I bent even lower pressing down
against her back, my breath on her neck.
“Feel free to scream for me, bitch.” I hissed in her ear.
I straightened, reluctantly releasing her breasts. She flinched reflexively when my
manhood brushed down the crevice between her ass cheeks. I grabbed her hips and drove into
her with a hard thrust. She gasped in shock and pain as I entered her. She was just as
tight and dry as any virgin bride. I reared back and slammed into her again. I knew it
must hurt. I wanted it to hurt. It just felt so damn good. That and I really did want to
hear this proud bitch scream.
My third thrust did bring a scream but from another girl, one of the ones bound to
the whipping posts. She began to cry out hysterically as she watched what would soon be
her own fate. The four women knelling at the bench were whimpering as they tugged
helplessly against their bonds. The men cheered me on. After that first gasp Rebecca had
become stoically silent while I repeatedly pounded into her.
She was too tight and I was too eager, I could not last. All too quickly, I spurted
out my seed. Ironically, my own ejaculate would be the lubricant that moistened her
passage and eased her suffering during her coming ordeal. I pulled out of her wiping my
dripping manhood across her smooth bottom. I was surprised to see there was no blood.
Apparently she wasn`t really a virgin; I wondered idly if her father knew. I might not
have been the first, but tears were trickling down her cheeks as I walked away.
Marcus barked an order and the first rank of men stepped forward. The women began
to plead and beg with renewed urgency. The four bound to the bench strained futilely
against their ropes. The sight of their squirming struggles only served to inflame the
men`s lust. The men whooped and cheered as the first rank took their prize. The two bound
to the whipping posts tried to twist and squirm away from their assailants but the men
quickly grabbed, trapped, and impaled their prey on hard Roman cocks. Eight men and seven
women caused few problems. Marcus was the odd man out in the first rank and he simply
knelt in front of the one of the woman bent across the bench. Grabbing a fistful of her
hair, he raised her head and thrust himself into her gaping mouth. She gagged and gasped.
The man who knelt behind her drove into her, pushing her forward, while Marcus slid into
her mouth. Her body buffeted back and forth over the rough wooden surface as they took
turns plunging into her. Tears poured down her cheeks as she choked and sputtered. Some of
the women who did have free use of their mouths were still begging for mercy while others
simply cried out in outrage or pain.
The first rank finished and marched off to relieve the men guarding the male
prisoners. The second rank moved forward enthusiastically. The process went quickly and
with typical Roman efficiency.
A fellow in the third rank knelt behind Rebecca and plunged his hand into her
ravaged sex. His fingers sloshed in the ejaculate left by his comrades, which he then
smeared along the crack of her ass. Rebecca`s eyes widened in shock and she spoke for the
first time since her rapes began
“No! Please not there. I`ve never...”
The soldier paid no attention as his thumb plunged into her narrow opening. Rebecca
lowered her head biting down on her lip. His hands grasped her cheeks brutally pulling
them open. She uttered a startled gasp as he thrust himself into her virgin opening. I
waited for the scream she had denied me. Maybe it was shock or maybe a point of pride for
her, she still didn`t scream even as the soldier brutally ravaged her ass.
I was sorely disappointed. By the time the fourth rank was finished the women were
barely whimpering though some of the women still screeched now and again when a soldier
choose to use their back sides, by the tenth rank they were all silent but for an
occasional grunt or groan. I did not remain to watch the auxiliaries finish and those
interested begin their second go around. I directed that the women should be untied,
dressed, and returned to the paddock with the other prisoners when my men were finished.
It took less than two hours for the seven women to service the entire century.
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