This is a print version of story Pagan Princess (Chapter Five) by melissacee from

Pagan Princess (Chapter Five)

Petronius Arius looked down on the prisoner who had just arrived and was lost in his thoughts.

‘How could this whelp of a girl have caused so much grief? Here before him was the torn and bl**died body of a pagan girl born of a Saxon King and Queen. Because of her injuries he failed to see the former beauty of the girl. He dearly wanted to know how she acquired her fighting and strategy skills and how it came about that she knew so much of Roman battle tactics?’ So many questions remained unanswered.

He wanted to know the name of her tutor, for this tutor was initially responsible for all the carnage that had ensued to this very day. He vowed in his mind that he would extract this information by every means possible from this flayed and bl**died pup that lay before him.

The Consul sent for his personal physician and ordered that he attend to this very ‘special’ prisoner. “I want her brought back to the very pinnacle of health!” He ordered. “I cannot have her expiring on me at the very first question.”

The Consuls physician surveyed his task, laying before him on a crude cot in the cell assigned to her was the bruised and torn body of Melissia. The physician looked upon the handiwork of Drachius with utter dismay. For he was a man who liked to heal people and he could not comprehend how one human being could inflict such suffering on another. Now here he was, ordered to heal this bruised, bl**died and battered creature. So once again they could torture and mutilate her. He felt like administering a poison so she would be spared the ordeal that lay ahead of her. Then again it would be he who would take her place if she should die in his keeping, he thought better of it.

As the days passed Melissia started to come out of her delirium, her head still swam and she felt for one fleeting moment that the handmaiden swabbing her fevered brow was her lieutenant, Helena.

For the physician, healing Melissia had become a labour of love as the true beauty of his patient began to blossom once more. He dismissed the handmaiden and carried on with the mopping of Melissia’s brow.

“That girl.” Whispered Melissia in a trembled voice. “Who is she, I know her do I not?”

The physician put a finger to his lips and urged her not to speak.

“Rest little lady, do not worry yourself with the identity of handmaidens, they are of no importance.”

“But, but……I know her.” She insisted.

“You cannot know her Melissia, how could you? She is nothing but a palace slave.”

Melissia lay back and cooed at the delicate touch of this wonderfully kind and gentle man. “You have tended me for days now and I do not even know your name, what is it?”

“It is of no consequence Melissia but if you must know it is Ithicus.”

“So Ithicus…..” Trilled Melissia. “What is to become of me? Shall I make a guess?”

The physician’s brow furled. “Let us not speak of it now little lady, we must make you well.”

“For what?” Countered Melissia. “So that I can be put to the question, so once again I will be the cruel sport of those cruel centurions. So my flesh can be torn from my bones, is that your desire?”

Melissia’s questions were relentless and Ithicus had no answer for her. “Worry not Ithicus, I do not hold you responsible for my current predicament. If it were not for my desire for vengeance neither of us would be in this position now, I do not place any blame on you.”

“Oh what a noble creature you are Melissia, indeed you are the Princess of all Princesses and I feel nothing but utter contempt for myself for being the coward that I am.” A tear trickled down from the corner of Ithicus’ eye.

Melissia reached up and wiped the tear away. “You are no coward Ithicus, you are simply a man doing his duty, nothing more nothing less.” With that Melissia drifted back into a fitful sl**p.

Three weeks later, Melissia found herself stifling her screams for a very different reason. Naked beneath a thin blanket, she writhed on her cot; arms outstretched; drenched in sweat. Her perfectly formed feet and muscular yet feminine legs jutted out of the blanket; toes curled. Beneath the blanket, Ithicus - with unprecedented expertise and enthusiasm - explored her glorious vagina with his brilliant tongue. He had been at it for two hours. He enjoyed the ache of his jaw; luxuriated in Melissia's dark, rich scent; drank in her sweet nectar greedily. He desired nothing but her pleasure. His own organ alternately swelled and shrank, but his urgent energy increased, superbly paced.

Melissia finally screamed. It was different from the sound torn from her under torture -- deep, throaty, insistently alive. On her third scream a name was almost torn from her. She began to cry out Helena's name, for it had only been from her beloved that she had felt such transcendent pleasure. Melissia stifled the cry, instantly perceiving the risk. Through the miasma of her rapture, she dimly perceived a foreshadowing. They would spare no effort to f***e her to scream out names under much different circumstances.
She chuckled to herself; Ithicus had given her practice at being tight-lipped under such circumstances.

She thought of Helena. Her body and soul shook simultaneously, in perfect rhythm. She kept the vision of Helena before her. She wondered, for a split instant whether that vision would sustain her under the torture to come. Then her universe split; only impossibly intense pleasure remained. She had experienced so much sensation since presenting herself at the camp, but she had not imagined this sensation. She screamed one, final, endless time as Ithicus' expertise in her intimate geography fiendishly prolonged her now convulsive pleasure. She swooned - not in and out of consciousness, but in and out of an enhanced consciousness a higher place of purpose clarity certainty. In the final seconds, he tested her capacity for pleasure and she passed the test -- almost killing him in the process as she bucked and writhed, and wrapped her powerfully athletic legs around him. Then -- perfect peace; the convulsions becoming delicious shudders; the ecstasy coming back unexpectedly in waves and then even more delightful ripples, long after she thought it should have passed.

Ithicus lingered in her most private place, relishing it as the supreme goal of manhood to explore and service those incomparable inches. In the course of perfecting his craft he had visited inhospitable regions. Melissia was paradise. Defying his physician's craft, he had long since learned that every inch of her invited, seduced, and rewarded the explorer. He slowly disengaged; kissing his way to her mouth; inhaling her musk and flicking off her sweet sweat with his still dexterous tongue. As he approached her mouth, Melissia roughly took hold of his face with strong fingers and kissed him deeply, urgently. Now it was her turn to put her tongue to work and she did so with superhuman skill.

Several minutes later Melissia sighed with perfect contentment, she smiled and pointed to Ithicus' throbbing -- flopping might have been the better term -- phallus.

"I can help you with that thing. He needs some attention".

"I am the physician here Melissia. You will take my prescriptions.”

"And so you have healed me". She stretched. The blanket fell from her. He gasped at her perfect beauty; rippling muscles; taut abdomen. With her eyes, she invited him to devour her with his. She flicked his leg playfully with one curled foot. Some scars remained visible, but Melissia had somehow appropriated them to enhance her beauty. The traces of torture only underscored her strength; the lines decorating and not vandalizing her unique architecture. She continued:

"I am perfectly healthy now, protected from their inquisition only by your lies." She laughed affectionately. "You are a fraud, Ithicus". A frown crossed her brow. "I will not have you risking yourself like that dear friend".

He fought back a sob. "How can I hand such perfection," he gestured helplessly at the body that had so exceeded his most outrageous expectations of the human form -- "over to their torturers. Unless --"

Melissia cut him off. "We've had this discussion before."

"But wait -- Antoninus has been working on the Proconsul. This would not be the first time a foreign foe had been turned to their use. There is opposition to be sure -- you killed many Romans. But if you give them their names; sign what they want you to sign; it could be months before they decide what to do with you. I want to pleasure you. I want to capture your form in my sculpture. I want --"

"Sweet Ithicus, if I do what they want then my form is hollow. Do not disappoint me -- you of all people. I love my body too, but it is a shell. You love my will and my choices and if I choose as you say, my beauty will fade whatever use is made of that shell."

He averted his eyes. He knew she was right. Was she too good for this world? He shuddered for her. He would die for her.

She read his thoughts. "No, my loving little man. I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me. But now -- let's put this body to good use, while we still have it to play with". She smiled mischievously. She nudged at his phallus with her toe. It came to life instantaneously. She stared at it for a moment, then her eyes met his, her eyebrow arched suggestively. "Let's see what tricks we can teach this b**st". He surrendered to her.

Drachius and Honorius conferred not far from Melissia's quarters.

"She is too dangerous. She belongs on the cross. I have sworn to pound in the nails myself". Drachius forgot about rank in his orgasm of hate. Honorius considered.

"The Proconsul wants names. Then he wants to see how we may use this woman. She may be politically valuable." He spoke the next sentence through clenched teeth. "He thinks she may be useful in training our troops -- my troops!! Anyway, Antoninus has him convinced to crucify her conspirators but use her as a figurehead in our re-pacification".

"Antoninus was once a good man -- she's bewitched him. She'll bewitch the Proconsul! I've never seen a woman stiffen so many pricks. But it's worse. She gets to them above the belt".

Honorius regarded him thoughtfully. "She has got to you as well Drachius. Do you seek to punish the woman or possess her?"

Drachius was momentarily speechless. He proceeded slowly, remembering that Honorius could put him on the cross next to Melissia for an ill-considered remark.

"I seek to avenge your men, General. Fallen in battle. Murdered by a treacherous little girl."

"So the question is this: will she cooperate?"

"Not this one. I've flayed her alive and she screamed prettily enough. But I never broke her. The problem is she may break any man sent to interrogate her".

"I don't trust that worm of a physician -- she looks fit enough for another session under the lash."

"Hmmm -- you're lucky the Proconsul didn't crucify you for overdoing it the last time. You can understand why he would be risk-averse with this girl's life. I think I have the answer. Your whip will draw Melissia's bl**d again". At that, Drachius tensed. He felt his penis hardening and hoped it was not obvious to his General. Honorius was inwardly amused but pretended not to notice.

"I know a woman who can supervise her interrogation. The woman, Fulvia, is cousin of Messalina who was banished to the provinces for exceeding her in beauty, cunning and ruthlessness. She is the Proconsul's lover; ambitious and sadistic. If she gets us our names --- all to the good, the Proconsul will be pleased. We will have time enough to plot Melissia's downfall with her help. If the wench is stubborn -- she will expire under your tender caresses. I will plant the idea with Fulvia and she will advance our agenda in the Proconsul's bed-chamber."

"Excellent battle-plan General. What do we do about Ithicus?"

"We rack him until he signs a clean bill of health for this girl. Then, my passionate friend…" (he permitted himself an ironic glance at Drachius' bulging, throbbing member) "our stubborn disobedient Melissia will be entirely yours. Except I caution you -- Fulvia is more than your match in her love of inflicting pain".

"General! I look forward to the challenge…."

They came for him in the early hours, Ithicus was dragged protesting vehemently all the way to the palace dungeons. They wasted no time, he was stripped naked and placed on the rack.

He trembled as Drachius stood over is prone and vulnerable body.

“I have just one question for you Ithicus, is the girl well enough to be put to the question?”

“In my opinion she is not Centurion.” Said the physician dreading what was coming next.

“The last time I set eyes on her she looked well enough.” Countered Drachius.

“Looks can be deceiving sir, she has some way to go yet.”

“Ithicus, spare yourself from this unpleasantness, tell me the girl is now in full health, give me a document confirming it and you will receive just a few lashes for your deception.”

“I reiterate sir that in my expert opinion she is far from well.” Ithicus new full well that this was not the answer they wanted and hoped he would be strong enough to withstand their tortures.

“I have no time for your games Ithicus, I want you to release Melissia for questioning, I feel you and she are playing us for fools and you both will pay dearly for it.”

With that the Centurion nodded to the dungeon master who in turn gave the signal for his men to turn the wheel that tightened the rack chains. Ithicus quickly felt the wrist and ankle cuffs tighten.

“Stop this infamy at once!” Yelled Ithicus. “You will surely answer to the proconsul for harming his physician!” The physician felt the first burning pains in his joints as the wheel continued to turn.

“The proconsul will not come to your aid Ithicus, he wants information from Melissia without further delay, there is no more time for niceties.”

The wheel continued to click wrenching a piercing scream from the physician. The pain from his tearing cartilages plus having hot irons run up and down his body quickly broke his resolve. Having been broken he was dragged over to a nearby table and made to sign a parchment giving Melissia a clean bill of health.

Drachius picked up the freshly signed parchment. “If only we could break that Pagan bitch as quickly as you physician but I fear she will lead us a merry chase.” Drachius made to leave, turning to the master of the dungeon he left orders for Ithicus to be lashed for his deception towards the Empire.

Petronius Arius studied the document releasing Melissia for torture. Fulvia his beautiful mistress stood by his side. She was just 25 years old and had the most perfect body which was topped off with a mane of beautiful jet black hair. Her skin bore the natural olive colour that was common in Romans. Fulvia was totally bored with this Saxon Isle, were it not for the proconsuls attentions she would have returned to Rome a long time ago. She hated its climate and its savage people. Her forte was pain and suffering followed closely by a veracious need for sex in any shape or form. She relished in the torment she inflicted on any that dared to stand up to her or resist her in any way. Now something else of interest was afoot, a new challenge, this infamous pagan girl that caused such a stir to all that came into contact with her.

She looked on with interest as Petronius studied the parchment in his hands. “What is she like this girl, this Melissia?”

Petronius looked up. “She is very much like you Fulvia, strong in body and spirit, she captivates all with her gaze, she can melt a man with those eyes of hers. My centurions have all denied it but I can see it in their faces. Especially Antoninus, he thinks we can turn her to our side. I cannot blame him for I have seen her since her recovery and I too have felt myself being drawn in by those eyes.”

Fulvia felt a pang of jealousy. “Then we had better pluck them out my lord before she can do any more harm with them.”

“Yes that is one answer to the problem Fulvia but I fear it will not solve what she has inflicted upon the empire. She has been trained most cleverly and has passed on this knowledge to all her subordinates. They still roam this Isle even as we speak inflicting heavy losses on our armies.”

Fulvia looked deep into the proconsuls eyes. “Let me have her Petronius, I will make the little wretch tell all.”

This is a delicate matter Fulvia, my soldiers want to see her suffering for themselves and I feel I owe it to them for what she has done to their pride.”

“So she is to be questioned before an assembly my lord, is that your final word on the matter?” Fulvia looked disappointed.

Petronius thought for a moment then looked at Fulvia. “By all means go and see the creature and sow the seeds in her mind of what is about to happen to her, the more fear she holds in her heart at the beginning of all this the better, what do not think?”

Fulvia felt her heart leap with excitement, for she truly enjoyed the suffering of fellow beings. Especially when it was she who administered it. She had been reminded many times that this was abnormal in a woman but she dismissed their ramblings. “Ah yes Petronius let me prepare her for what is to come, I will make her tremble with fear, it will make the inquisitors task a little easier.”

Fulvia gathered up two of her loyal bodyguards and bade them take up position outside Melissia’s quarters. As she turned the key in the heavy door she turned to the guards.

“Only enter if I call for you, is that understood.”

The two men nodded and watched the proconsul’s mistress enter the pagan girls quarters.

Melissia was worried for she had not heard from Ithicus for some hours. He had never left her for so long in the past, her feelings told her something was wrong. She tried to ease her fears by taking a bath in scented oils. On exiting her bath she tied a silk loincloth about her waist and covered her chest with a light halter necked top. She heard the door of her quarters open and her heart leapt with relief, as she believed her beloved Ithicus had returned at last.


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