The
Roman Slave: Part 1
by Letrah
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The Roman caravan moved slowly along the hills.
A supply cart, pulled by a team of oxen, led the caravan. Behind
the cart walked a line of young men, women and children, hands bound
behind their backs, new slaves on their way to Rome. The recent
conquest was an easy one. The province was a small one, rich and
lazy. Its military was easily defeated. Now the majority of the
conquered people, the young, healthy ones, were being taken to Rome
as new slaves. A different life than the pampered one they were
use to. Included in this line of slaves was the ex-Prince of the
kingdom, Darius. A young man of 20 whose life and plans of the future
were drastically changed. Frustrated with defeat, angry at his current
status, he had desperately been looking for a chance to escape.
The moment arrived when the guards, patrolling the line of slaves,
had become lax as they neared Rome.
During a break in the timing of the patrol, Darius made a dash from
the line and attempted his escape by darting down the side of the
hill. But the guards were not as inattentive as he had thought and
shouts of “Escaping Slave” quickly rose up behind him.
Spurred by fear, Darius tried to run faster, but the rough, downhill
terrain was hard to navigate, especially with his hands tied behind
his back. Tripping over a rough spot, Darius was unable to catch
his balance and began tumbling down the hillside. To his horror,
he realized he was rolling toward a wooden fence that marked the
edge of a precipice. He was likely going to roll under the fence
and off the cliff, plunging to his death.
Dizzy from the tumble, Darius lurched his body desperately at the
last moment to catch his back against the fence, stopping his fall
with a gasp as the wind was pushed out of him by the impact. He
barely had a moment to breathe a sigh of relief when a horrible
cracking sound came from the fence pole at his back. His impact
cracked the pole and he felt himself fall backwards into empty space.
With his hands still tied behind him, he was unable to catch himself.
Instinctively, he brought his legs up and caught his feet against
the remaining pieces of the fence pole. Darius found himself hanging
backwards over the precipice, hands tied behind his back, bent at
the knees, only stopped from plunging to his death by his feet flexed
against the broken fence rod. So much for his grand escape plan.
“Well, well,” a voice from above him chuckled, “What
do we find here, Adrian?”
“It looks like our missing slave got himself into a bit of
trouble, more than merely an escape attempt, don’t you think,
Polonius?”
“I’m NOT a slave,” shouted Darius angrily, despite
his predicament. “I am Prince Darius of Caperden. If I hadn’t
tripped I would have gotten free. So you’ve caught me. Come
on, pull me up from here and take me back.”
“A bit pushy for a slave, don’t you think, Polonius?”
“Definitely, Adrian. I don’t think he understands the
humor of his present situation.”
“I agree, my friend. But since the wheel of the cart broken
and is being replaced, I guess we have the time to instruct him,
don’t you agree?”
“Plenty of time. Let’s start”.
“What are you going to do? Just pull me up? What are you doing
to my sandals?
Darius tried to pull himself to see what they were doing, but further
cracking of the fence pole caused him to relax back once more. Above
him, Polonius and Adrian had taken out their knives and were carefully
severing the straps that held his sandals on his feet. First one,
then the other sandal fell loose, so Darius now hung from the cracked
fence pole by his bare feet, his toes arched back to hold his place
on the pole and keep him from falling off the cliff.
“No, please! Don’t cut me!,” pleaded Darius.
“Cut you?” laughed Adrian. “We have no plans on
cutting you.”
“Will you look at these feet,” Polonius remarked to
his partner. “You can tell this was one pampered boy. Not
a mark or a callous. He didn’t have to march in the Legion.”
“They definitely look tender,” Adrian agreed. “Tell
me slave …. Are your feet ticklish?”
Darius felt himself go cold. They couldn’t be thinking of
that. Not while he was in this position, would they? Darius was
always very ticklish, but his royal standing always protected him.
No one would ever dare to tickle him. Oh, his parents had when he
was little. There had been a few accidentally tickles during wrestling
matches and a few of the girls he spent time with had tickled him
a little, but never long or in a situation he couldn’t get
away from. He had always been fascinated with tickling. He had taken
advantage of his position to tie up some of his personal guards
and tickle them to near hysteria just to see what it would be like.
He never wanted to experience it for himself.
“No! Please! Don’t do it,” pleaded Darius. “I’ll
fall.”
“Oh, he must really be a ticklish one,” laughed Adrian.
“He didn’t even try to hide it from us.”
“You won’t fall, slave,” laughed Polonius. “Just
keep those toes from moving.”
“NO”, screamed Darius. “NOT MY TOES.”
Adrian laughed gleefully. “Oh those nice toes must really
be a good spot. But don’t worry; we won’t go there …
yet. We want this to take awhile.” With that, he slowly ran
his finger in a line from Darius’ left heel up to the ball
of his foot, smiling as he saw the foot quiver and struggle to hold
its place.
Darius gritted his teeth as the ticklish sensation of that finger
seemed to run through his whole body. “Concentrate”,
he thought to himself. “It doesn’t tickle. Hold that
foot steady. Don’t flex those toes.” Adrian reversed
his course and dragged the finger slowly back down toward the heel.
Polonius pointed to the toes as they spread wider as they struggled
to keep from flexing.
“AARARRRAGGHHH….HHHAA HHA..ST…STTOOOPP”
cried out Darius, shaking his head from side to side.
“Oh this slave is really ticklish,” Adrian said to his
partner. “He won’t last long tickling with my finger.”
Darius gasped in relief as the ticklish finger stopped its journey
down his left foot.
“We have time, my friend. I suggest we use these.” Darius
was unable to see Polonius pass two large, soft feathers to Adrian,
or see that he kept two feathers to use on his right foot, but he
gasped as he felt the gentle stokes up and down his smooth, stretched
soles.
Darius had not thought he would be feather-ticklish, but with his
toes flexed back against the fence pole his soft soles were stretched
taunt. The precarious position he was in, being forced to keep his
feet still only by his own will power seemed to make him only more
sensitive. They stroked the feathers up and down his soles and back
and forth. They even teased the sides his feet, especially at the
arches, as he feet seemed to quiver desperately when they did so.
Helplessly, Darius hung over the cliff, giggling and pleading with
his tormenters to stop and pull him up, but they only keep at the
feathering of his feet. It was a desperate spiral. The more Darius
struggled to hold his feet to the pole, the more his toes spread
out, pulling his soles tighter, making his feet even more ticklish.
His feet quaked with the need to flex and escape the tickling, but
Darius kept his concentration and held them still.
Darius struggled to take his mind off the tickling feathers, but
his tormenters keep a running dialogue of their work.
“Aren’t these the softest feet you’ve seen in
a long time, Adrian? My feathers just love gliding up and down this
nice, soft arch.”
“Truly, so, Polonius. Even my young wife does not have such
tender feet. She would be driven crazy with my tracing these feathers
back and forth across the ball of her foot like I am doing here.
That is a terribly ticklish spot for her.”
“Oh, not as ticklish as this tender arch, surely?” Polonius
replied as he continued to twirl his feathers about the arch of
Darius’ right foot.
“Oh definitely,” Adrian chuckled over Darius’
desperate pleading as he continued to dance his feathers back and
forth over the ball of the left foot. “But look at those tender
toes spread so wide as if they were begging us for a touch of the
feather.”
“NO – NOOOO…,” screamed Darius. “I
NEVER HOLD ON. PLEASE. I TICKLED A GUARD ONCE WHO WAS AS TICKLISH
AS I, AND HE COULD NEVER HOLD HIS TOES BACK! PLEASE .. DON’T
TOUCH MY TOES!”
Both of his tormentors stopped their feathering in surprise. “So
… You have put others through this experience yourself. It
seems even more justified that you are suffering now. Why should
we leave your toes alone?”
“PL—PLEASE,” gasped Darius, terrified that they
might feather his toes while he was in this position. “PLEASE
DON’T TICKLE MY TOES.” Tears dropped from his eyes as
he cried helplessly to his ticklers. “PLEASE LET ME UP. THE
GUARD I TICKLED IS IN OUR CARAVAN. I’LL POINT HIM OUT TO YOU.
TICKLE HIM. I’LL HELP YOU. HE’S REALLY TICKLISH. YOU
CAN TICKLE HIM ALL YOU WANT. HIS TOES ARE HIS WORST SPOT, EVEN MORE
THAN MINE. HE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO KEEP YOU FORM TICKLING HIS TOES.
BUT I COULDN’T HOLD ONE. I BEG YOU. PLEASE. PULL ME UP.”
“Well listen to this spoiled little slave, Polonius. Despite
all the torture we have been putting him through; he is all set
to place someone else into this suffering. What are your thoughts?”
“I guess I am willing to promise not to use my feathers on
his toes.”
“Really, Adrian?” his partner said in surprise.
“Oh, thank you” sighed Darius.
“I’ll just use my fingers” Adrian said as he scraped
his fingers under the toes of both of Darius’ feet.
With a scream, Darius lasted only a second before his toes clenched,
losing his grip on the pole. As he began to fall to his death, he
passed out in fear, unaware when the rope the guards had tied about
his legs tightened. Polonius and Adrian gazed down at the limp,
swaying body.
“I guess he was right,” Adrian commented. “He
couldn’t hold on if those toes were tickled.”
Polonius started pulled Darius’ body up by the rope and Adrian
gave him a hand. “What do we do next?” he asked his
partner.
“I bet you we can find that other ticklish slave without this
one’s help.”
“It would be fun to do that,” replied Polonius. “And
I’ll bet that we could work to see which of the two are really
the most ticklish.”
“I agree, my friend,” Adrian grunted as he slung Darius’
limp body over his shoulder. “I will also tell you, I think
we should take our wages for this campaign in the form of this slave
and the other we find.”
“Now what do we want to do with slaves?” asked Polonius.
“This tickling has been fun, but slaves are more of an expense
than we can bear on our wages.”
Adrian smiled. “I don’t plan to keep them, Polonius.
But I know a man who likes to tickle slaves and he would pay us
big money for two terribly ticklish slaves. He tends to get .. overzealous…
and is always looking for replacements.”
Polonius smiled. “A wonderful plan as always, my friend. Always
why I journey with you. Let us find this next ticklish slave. “
TO BE CONTINUED, IF DESIRED …
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