Barbaria Act 3 Chapter 7 free porn video

Miralda and Tavia were having a little fun. After the savage flogging of their two new slaves, Karena and Zena, the two teenagers would do anything that was demanded of them. They grovelled in terror, begged and pleaded to be spared more torment. But, all the same, more torment was constantly forthcoming. Miralda was exorcising all the terrible horrors she had endured for months and months; young Tavia was simply indulging in her natural sadistic instincts. It was mid-afternoon and both Miralda and Tavia were still a little drunk on account of the quantity of wine they had consumed at lunch time. This had also raised sexual desires. Tavia was sitting naked on Zena’s face, rubbing herself back and forth, revelling in the sensual sexuality of it.
“Get that tongue in, you little bitch... well in!” she commanded. Zena did her best but was being half-suffocated by the buttocks crushing her down. Tavia couldn’t have cared less about that, after all, a slave was expendable. All that concerned her was her own enjoyment.
“Mmmmm... urrrr... mmmmm... urrrr...” panted Tavia, she was mounting to yet another orgasm. Oh it was sheer delight to be able to use a slave in this way! Especially a slave who had once held a high position. She rubbed herself faster and faster, feeling the subservient tongue striving to keep thrusting into her.
“Hoooorrr... hhhhhoooorrrr... agh... agh... agh... aaaaaaghhhhh...” She was going to come again. Yes... yes... any minute now, she was going to come again. Lovely... lovely... lovely. There was no limit to it! Only total exhaustion could restrain her. Zena, panicking, drowning in love juices, felt her lungs must burst. She was striving most desperately to please, knowing the consequences if she did not. But the soft, pounding buttocks were submerging her. She could get no air; a black wave was engulfing her. She was on the very verge of insensibility when Tavia arrived at her orgasm and, when it had finally been satisfied, rolled off the slave she had used so totally selfishly. Zena’s lungs heaved like bellows as she sucked in life-giving air. She sobbed hopelessly. This young woman, now her Mistress, was the very devil. Sadistically cruel, totally demanding. Yet, in her heart, Zena knew she had once been just the same. She could have no possible grounds for complaint. This was a world of complete winners and losers. Recovering, Tavia’s eyes fluttered open. She felt fully relaxed. In a little while, perhaps she would use Zena once more. Then, surely, she would be absolutely slaked. Mmmmm... surely.
The figures of Karena, Leo and Miralda came into focus. They were in the centre of the room. Leo was seated on a couch, thighs wide. Karena was sucking him. Miralda stood behind the girl, constantly sawing a willow rod across Karena’s bottom and, from time to time, giving it a wristy cut as she issued orders. Leo’s features were suffused with lust and he was obviously enjoying the situation whilst striving not to ejaculate too soon.
“Take more in... more... MORE!” The cane bit into soft buttock flesh; flesh already grievously lacerated. Karena strove to do so, choking on the big, solid penis in her mouth.
“Suck stronger... STRONGER!” Again the willow bit. Karena squirmed convulsively. She could scarcely make a greater effort... yet was being forced to do so by the agony of the constantly biting rod She was filled with bitter sickness, constantly retching. Nothing could have nauseated her more than to have to suck a man’s prick. Miralda knew it... that was she made Karena do it frequently. Leo might be having a lot of fun, but that didn’t matter so much. It was Karena’s revulsion she delighted to see.
“Suck, bitch... suck... SUCK!” Ssssswwwweeee... eeepppptttt! Karena was contorted again, but continued to suck frenziedly. She knew what Miralda would do to her if she did not. Terror had consumed her whole being, like a flame, since she had been in the power of her ex-slave. She could feel Leo’s prick beginning to jerk in her mouth. Soon, once again, he would be spurting. Her belly seemed to rise up; she thought she might be sick, simply at the thought.
“You will take it all down, slave,” said Miralda, sawing the rod back and forth menacingly. “ALL of it! Spill a single drop and I’ll take a lot more skin off your backside!” Karena’s mind was in a turmoil. She had to make herself do it! She had to! No matter how disgusting it was. She HAD to! The prick jerked more convulsively. Karena sucked more frantically. Then Leo ejaculated into the back of her throat. Again and again and again and again. Revolted as she was, Karena gulped and swallowed as best she could. Striving as best she could to take in the powerful spurtings. Gulping... gulping... Retching... retching ... And it was the retching that undid her Some of the semen bubbled over and dropped on to the couch.
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you, slave!” rasped Miralda.
“Merceeee... merceeee.“ squealed Karena “I... I tried... I tried...”
“Get hold of her, Leo, hold her there!”
“Yes, Mistress.” Leo was only too eager to obey. Momentarily weakened as he was on account of that lovely sexual slaking, he took a firm grip on Karena and held her down. Mercilessly, Miralda lashed the whippy rod again and again across the teenager’s buttocks. Teeth bared with delight; grunting with effort.
“I will have obedience... I WILL... IWILL!” Piercing shrieks of torment filled the room. Tavia smiled lazily. It was always nice to see a slave getting a really good hiding. “I will! Ssswweee... eeepppptttt! Ssswweee eeeppppttttr!! “I will!” Ssswwweeeoooeeeppptt! “I will... I will... I will... I will... I will... I will!” The biting rod lashed again and again, Karena kicking and writhing like an eel shrieking horrendously... howling for mercy. But, as Miralda had promised, she took a lot more skin off her new slave’s backside before the cane was tossed aside. She slumped happily down in a chair, seeing Tavia smiling lazily at her.
“Going to make her have another go?” asked Tavia.
“Sure,” answered Miralda, “when Leo’s got some strength back. I should tell you, Tavia, this creature’s going to be sucking cocks day in and day out from now on!”
“Glad to hear it,” said Tavia. Then she slid her bottom back on to Zena’s hot, slippery face and, at once, began to rub herself back and forth. Slowly but firmly. She felt rather tired, but so, so contented.
“Tongue in, slave,” she ordered. The servile tongue penetrated. Began to do what was required of it. So satisfying. So VERY satisfying.

The following evening, as ordered by Venetia, Xena was ringed by the two powerful female Overseers. Desperate and despairing, she put up a struggle in her cell, but it was of no avail. Weeping, she was fastened to a St. Andrew’s cross. “I’m looking forward to the day when I can deal personally with this girl for such behaviour,” said one of the Overseers. “Me too,” nodded her companion. “Nothing so pleasing as dealing with a well-shaped aristocratic arse.” Xena regarded them with intense hatred. It was bad enough to have to submit to the Princess but to be handled by lower orders was even worse. The ‘sleepers’ were removed and the humiliating rings slipped through the waiting holes in the flesh. The rings were snapped open, one end pushed through, then snapped back. Xena, who was still tender, flinched and whimpered hopelessly. The indignity of it was beyond all belief. The nose ring was an inch and a half in diameter, the nipple rings were two inches and the clitoris ring one inch. By means of small hooks, one of the Overseers attached long, slim chains to the nose and nipple rings whilst the other one released Xena from the frame.
“Come along, slave,” said the Overseer holding the chains, “Her Highness has asked for you to be brought to her... and I don’t advise you to be tardy about it.” A little tug an the chains emphasised the point and Xena whimpered with pain. Terror was mounting in her. Was she truly being taken to be flogged? Could that possibly be? It was something almost beyond contemplating. They reached the wide double doors of the Throne Room.
“On your hands and knees, slave,” came an order, “you are going to crawl to Her highness.” Another painful tug on the nose and nipple rings told Xena she really had no option. She went down and crawled through the doors, following the clacking high-heeled boots. This, thought Xena with mind in turmoil, was the worst moment I have ever experienced. Utterly degraded before her conqueror!
“Kneel erect.” Xena did so, not forgetting to place her hands on top of her head. There, right before her, smiling triumphantly from her Throne, was Princess Venetia.
“Very pretty,” she said, turning to Flavia alongside her. “Don’t you think so, my dear?”
“Yes, I think rings suit her,” replied Flavia. “they indicate her status.”
“They do indeed.” She watched a tear of shame and self-pity trickle down one of Xena’s cheeks. “Well now, slave,” said Venetia, “as I told you yesterday, you are now going to be punished for your defiance. Also for your unbelievable insolence in trying to spit on me.” So it WAS true, thought Xena hopelessly. In her heart she had nurtured a flicker of expectation that she would be spared such vile treatment on account of her Royal blood.
“I... I beseech you ...” Xena began.
“Silence!” barked out Venetia, her smiling, classically beautiful face suddenly changing to a hard mask of cruelty. “As I told you, you are to have the honour of being flogged by me personally.” The smile resumed. “And when my arm grows tired, Lady Flavia will take over.” A short pause. Xena was quaking inwardly with hideous dread but meanwhile trying to summon up all her remaining pride and strength. She must not break before this monstrous tyrant. Not yet... not yet! But for how long could she endure? She had led a soft life. Pain was alien to her.
“Put her on the Flogging Block,” ordered Venetia. Xena was immediately seized by four Overseers, each of whom took a limb and carried her, face down, over to where the Block stood. Xena’s newly acquired rings swung to and fro.
“No... no... no... no... no... no ...” Xena began to whimper, in the knowledge of her certain defeat. The Block, made of rich red leather and black ebony wood, was highly humped at one end. Over this hump Xena’s belly was placed, thus ensuring that her sumptuous bottom was uplifted to the maximum. Instantly, a six-inch wide belt of red leather came down over the slimness of her waist and was buckled as tight as possible. Xena groaned. A red collar went round her neck and her arms were twisted high up behind her back; her wrists were then shackled and fastened by very short chains to links on the collar. Next, another chain was attached to the collar and, when this was pulled on, Xena’s torso was raised slowly until it was almost erect. Xena groaned again. The pain from her contorted body was atrocious. Before her, her superb breasts thrust out firmly, to the maximum, like milky-white half melons. Finally, each of her thighs was seized and pulled wide apart, then shackled to the sloping end of the Block. It would scarcely have been possible to contrive a more undignified posture for a woman... nor one that rendered her more helpless.
“Excellent,” said Venetia. “Bring me the instruments.” An Overseer advanced and handed over two long, exceedingly slim rods. She handed one over to Flavia, who looked a little surprised.
“It’s very thin,” she said.“But it still hurts,” said Venetia. “And, on account of its size, it can be used for a very long time.”
“I see... “It is, in fact, a springy wire, attached to the handle and covered with thin snake skin. Very whippy, as you can see.” Venetia bent the rod a semi-circle, using one finger. When released, the rod sprang back, flickering up and down. “I have used these quite often in Sythia,” she said, “and I find them most effective. Applied with precision, and for long enough, they can strip the skin completely off the buttocks. Or the thighs. Or the breasts.” Flavia’s eyes gleamed cruelly. Now she saw why Xena’s breasts had been positioned in that flagrantly thrusting position. Oh what joy! This woman was about to be made to suffer far more than she had ever thought possible. Oh what delight! She deserved it. No one deserved it more! Venetia rose from the Throne. She was wearing a short-length tunic dress in the Royal purple and matching, high-heeled calflength boots. She walked to the front of the Block and gazed upon her helpless victim. The dark eyes had a petrified look in them. Little wonder!
“Perhaps you’d like to spit at me again, you arrogant bitch,” she said. Xena gulped and remained silent. “Has she had a potion?” asked Venetia. A potion added remarkably to the powers of endurance. Something, to say the least, unwelcome to a slave being punished.
“Yes,Highness,” answered one of the Overseers. “Two.”
“Give her another one,” ordered Venetia. Two potions was generally considered a maximum safe dose. But what did it matter if one occasionally went over the limit? Two Overseers came to the Block and while one forced Xena’s mouth open wide, the other squirted in a pale pink liquid from a pipette-like flask. Xena choked and gagged but was forced to gulp the potion down when an Overseer gripped her nose tight. She was aware that she was being given powers of endurance beyond the normal... for she had used similar potions herself.All hope was gone. She was going to be flogged. And flogged mercilessly. Venetia walked round to the other end of the Block and, with the greatest satisfaction, surveyed the uplifted hindquarters. Fulsome, soft but firm, a creamy white in colour. The skin, she saw, was stretched taut. As it should be. The rod would bite all the more painfully into that. The depilated sex seemed to twitch at her; the long thighs were quivering softly. In due time, they too would feel her rod. Meanwhile, there was this lush aristocratic bottom to be dealt with.
Venetia took up her position. Her target was at just the right height. She measured the very top of the buttocks, having decided, first of all, to work from the top to the bottom, placing strokes as close together as possible. She saw the taut nates clench slightly, then unclench. Yes, she is very nervous, thought Venetia. And she has every right to be! She raised the slim rod high and brought it whiplashing down across the curving white flesh. Quite unused to pain, Xena screamed instantly. It was a gasping, disbelieving scream. How could such pain be? A thin, bright red streak encircled the top of her buttocks. Venomously, Venetia laid on the second stroke. It fell about a millimetre or so away from the first. She was, of course, an expert with the rod but also, Xena’s bottom being immobilised, made for easier accuracy. Xena shrieked again. After only two strokes, her former resolution not to break too soon before Venetia was already gone. Such pain robbed her of will. It was not possible to withstand it! Steadily, Venetia worked her way down the buttocks, raising one encircling weal after another. After twelve strokes, a six inch wide band of fiery torment had been produced. Xena, a complete stranger to pain, was shrieking on every stroke. They were high, ear-splitting shrieks, chilling the blood of the slaves, both male and female, who were in attendance in the Chamber. Impossible to believe that this screaming creature had once been their all-powerful Mistress!
The flogging continued in the same remorseless fashion. Twelve more strokes and another six inches of the flesh had been closely striped. Venetia was approaching the lower part of the buttocks. Swick! Swick! Swick! Swick! With cruel joy, Flavia watched the slim rod blurring rhythmically through the air. She knew well what it was like to be thrashed and her revenge was complete now that it was Xena’s turn. The final dozen or so strokes fell across the flesh just where the buttocks joined the thighs. Xena shrieked more piercingly.
She just could not stand any more!
It must stop!
It MUST!
It did stop. Oh thanks to the Gods... it was over... it was over! Venetia appeared dimly before her, her smiling face seen through cascades of tears. Xena’s breasts were heaving up and down; they were wet from those same tears.
“No one ever defies me,” stated Venetia.
“N-No ...aaaghhh... ggggaaahh... no... I’II not defy y-you... H- H-Highness...” Venetia smiled more
broadly. Oh that was nice to hear!
“So you say NOW, slave,” she said, “while your bottom is a bit tender. It may be different when you have recovered somewhat. However, when I have finished with you, I trust you will be convinced that I am to be obeyed. In the very most minute degree. Utterly. Totally. I hope you are understanding me?”
“Y-Yerggg... errrgg... u-ugh... yes... H-H-Highness...”
“Good,” smiled Venetia. “Good indeed, slave. I am now going to continue to lay my rod across your backside, working from the bottom back to the top. It will be considerably more painful...”
“N-N-Nooooo... NNNNOOOO!” Xena’s eyes were dilated in shocked horror. She had thought it was over. Oooohhhh... it must be over! “N-N-Noooo... more ...” she whined. “Oooohhhh... h-have mercy ...” That plea was the most exquisite music in Venetia’s ears. Xena’s f irst plea for mercy. She smiled gleefully.
“Mercy?” she enquired, arching her eyebrows, “whenever did you dispense mercy?”Xena’s features quaked in horrified despair. Of course... what had been said was true. She had never shown mercy... yet... now... now... she was begging for it!
“You stupid, arrogant bitch,” Venetia almost snarled, “don’t you realise I’ve only just started on you?”
“MERCEEEE... MERCEEEE...” screeched Xena. “I... JUST CAN’T STAND ANY MORE...”
“As to that,” said Venetia, “we shall see.” Venetia returned to the other end of the Block and, stationing herself on the other side of it, commenced to lash the rod across Xena’s buttocks again. First on the join of thighs and buttocks... then working gradually up and up. Xena shrieked and shrieked in torment... howling for mercy in between. She had no more pride, no more will to resist. She would do anything... anything... this woman demanded. If only she would stop this terrible flogging.
“YYYYAAAGGGHHHH... AAAAAAGHHHHH... MERCEEEE... MERCEEEE... YYYYAAAGGGHHHH!” With the overlaying of weals, with the filling in between weals, Xena’s buttocks were acquiring the appearance of being raw. It was, in fact, a remorseless removal of the outer skin. When Xena received a cane, or worse, upon that excruciating rawness, she would know the meaning of true agony. All that was yet to come.

Venetia, you might say was preparing the ground. Stroke after stroke. Relentlessly accurate. Mercilessly punishing. It was, Venetia realised, Xena’s first-ever punishment... and certainly one she would never forget as long as she lived, whatever happened in the hereafter. Up... up... up... up ...the thin, biting stripes marched. Over the centre of the fulsome buttocks. Up towards the top.Xena’s screams had become so powerful, her vocal chords were beginning to crack. “NNNNOOOO ...MORE ...WYYAAAGGGHHHH ...NNNNOOOO... I CAN’T STAND ANY MORE... YYYYYYYAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!” Methodically, unhurriedly, Venetia completed what she had set out to do. Xena had been striped from top to bottom and back again. Something like forty strokes, or maybe more. Venetia went to the top of the Block and it seemed to her that her victim’s eyes were glazing, despite the stimulus of a triple potion. “Smoking sticks,” she ordered. These had already been prepared, burning slowly but giving off sharp. acrid fumes. Revivifying fumes! An Overseer placed them under Xena’s nostrils and soon she was heaving and choking... brought back to vivid, hideous reality. Venetia saw that her eyes had cleared.
“You realise, slave,” she said, “that this is a flogging you deserve?” Xena shook her head in shocked bewilderment. How could she possibly deserve such torment? It was inhuman! Oh how quickly Xena had forgotten what inhumanity she had inflicted herself! Again and again and again and again.
“My arm is tiring a little,” continued Venetia. “for the time being, I am handing over to Lady Flavia. Once your wretched and most cruelly treated slave. She, slave, is now going to flog your tits!”
“NNNNEEEEE... OOOOOOOOOO!” screeched Xena, her eyes rolling half back into her head. “NNNNEEEEE... OOOOOOOOOO!”
“Oh yes,” nodded Venetia, “and I don’t think you are going to enjoy it. Not one little bit.”
“MERCCCCEEEEEEE... MERCEEEE... A-A-ANYTHING... B-BUT... THAT...” Xena’s voice trailed off into a whining wail of abject horror. She was proud of her magnificent orbs. That they could be treated in this fashion was beyond belief! Flavia, eyes glinting, rose from her chair, flexing the slim rod which had been given to her. She was bubbling over with joy. She stood before Xena, then slapped her face. Left and right. Hard.
“You often had my breasts caned, you monster,” she spat out. “Now you’re going to find out what it feels like!” Slappp... slappp... slappp... slappp. Oh what a delight to smack those arrogant features again and again! This once dictatorial woman was now quite at her mercy.
“N-Not that... oooohhhh... not that ...” whined Xena. “Oooh... Flavia... I’ll give you everything... do anything you want... but... but... not that... not THAT!”
“Flavia?” The voice was arched. “How dare you, slave! You address me as My Lady, you know that...”
“My Lady... oooohhh... My Lady...” Xena’s voice was desperate. Terror was filling every fibre of her being. Her breasts were totally helpless, thrusting fully, so tender, so precious to her. Oh how could they be violated in this vile fashion? Casually, Flavia pulled the nipple rings. She recalled vividly that first day when Xena had had her nose and nipples ringed and linked them with a chain. Flavia had been forced to go around with her head bowed for weeks at a time. Now Xena’s squeals amused her.
“This is going to hurt,” she said. The slim rod tapped on the soft breast flesh. How beautifully it quivered!
“NO ...NNOOO... NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!” Xena’s eyes were rolling back again. “H- Have... merceeee ...” Whining again. With gritted teeth, Flavia lashed the supple wire rod across the centre of Xena’s breasts. A thin weal leapt up and there was a wild convulsion of soft-juddering flesh. Xena’s eyes started from her head, her mouth gaped wide and, it seemed, an even more agonised shriek burst from her.
“EEEGGGHHH... E-E-EEGGGGHHHHH... EEEGGGHHH!” Then, eyes alight with real cruel lust, Flavia continued to lash the rod down with all her force. Over the top of the breasts, underneath them, over the centre of them. Particularly did she try to lash into those so-tender nipples... and frequently succeeded. Xena became near demented. Her screams became so intense, her voice cracked completely. Instead of screams, she began to eject hideous rattling sounds. Her eyes kept rolling back into her head. Within her gaping mouth... a letter-box slit of torment - her tongue flickered wildly. Her breasts bounced, rolled and juddered, swinging from side to side... constantly and frenziedly. Looking on, Venetia judged that, after some twenty or so strokes, Xena was on the point of swooping down into insensibility.
“Thank you, Flavia,” she called loudly, “that will do nicely...” Several more strokes fell before Flavia’s arm ceased swinging.
“Smoking sticks,’’ ordered Venetia. Snorting horribly, Xena absorbed the acrid fumes. She choked, she retched, but she was kept in the land of the living. Venetia looked into the glazed wandering eyes of her victim.
“It’s not over yet, you presumptuous over-weaning bitch!” she informed her. It seemed that Xena did not comprehend her. Her mind, her nerves, her body, were so absorbed by fierily agonising pain, there was simply no room for anything else. The pain was unendurable... yet had to be endured. An intense longing for oblivion... for death itself... began to fill her being. But neither was to be forthcoming.
“Would you like to help me with her thighs, Flavia?` enquired Venetia.
“I certainly would.” She was still breathing heavily, rather more from the excitement of what she had just done than from the actual physical exertion. The two women came round and surveyed Xena’s widely splayed thighs. Their creamy whiteness was a stark contrast to the red rawness of her buttocks.
“That looks VERY tender,’” said Flavia, tapping a cheek lightly with her rod.
“Oh it is, I assure you it is,” smiled Venetia. “And you did a very good job on her tits.”
“Thanks,” said Flavia, “it was a pleasure, believe me.”
“We’ll start at the lowest point,” said Venetia, tapping the slimmest part of Xena’s thigh, “and work up... right to her cunt. I think she might even get a few there before we’ve finished! Let’s lay it on together... right?”
“Right,” said Flavia happily. The two rods went up and came lashing down simultaneously, encircling each wide-straining thigh with a red vivid weal. The terrible rattling sounds erupted from Xena’s throat again. Her classical features were becoming contorted beyond recognition as stroke succeeded stroke, marching ever upwards.
“Keep the smoking sticks ready,” called out Venetia. They had got about halfway up Xena’s thighs and were getting to the fuller, softer and most tender regions. Swick... swick! Swick... swick! Together the agonising wire rods sliced again and again into the helpless flesh. Swick... swick! Swick... swick! Xena could be heard snorting and choking again. The smoking sticks had been placed under her flaring nostrils once more. She would get no relief. None!
“Aarrggg... uurrgg... snort-snort... uuurrrggg... aarrggg... snort snort ...” Swick... swick! Swick... swick! The two rods were now falling together on the fullest part of the thighs. In unison. A simultaneous doubie-agony. The tops of the thighs were reached.
“Into her cunt flesh,” said Venetia. The rods bit into the tenderest flesh of all and, although the smoking sticks were still in place, Xena at last lost consciousness. She had been driven beyond the limit of endurance. Far beyond. Breasts heaving, Venetia and Flavia studied their handiwork. From the tops of her buttocks to the lowest part of her thighs, Xena’s flesh gave the appearance of raw meat Equally so did her stillthrusting breasts.
“I don’t think she’ll defy me again,” remarked Venetia, re-seating herself on the Throne. Flavia laughed.
“Nor do I,” she said.
“Take her away,” ordered Venetia. ‘`Put on the healing liquids.” Those, she was well aware would, at first, intensify Xena’s torments... but they would start to bring the excoriated flesh quickly back to normal. They watched as Xena was unshackled and then. like a carcass, dragged by her hair from the Chamber envoi.
On the following morning, Venetia, Flavia and many other members of the new Court watched from the balcony as Xena was carried out and placed in her wooden cage. Her breasts, buttocks and thighs looked as raw as they had done the previous evening. She seemed semi-delirious.
“By the Gods, you flayed her well, your Highness,” said Miralda who was one of those watching.
“I did, didn’t I ?” smiled Venetia “But Lady Flavia helped.” Flavia looked smugly content.
“l’d like to help out next time,” said Tavia, who stood nearby.
“You may.” said Venetia. “There will be plenty of opportunity for all.” There were murmurs of contented approval. Many had good reason to take the most thorough and sweetest revenge on the woman to whom they had once been in abject servitude. Two Overseers had begun to chain Xena in the cage. Her wrists were shackled to bars at the top and her ankles, pulled wide apart, were secured to the bars at the side. Xena’s feet were not actually touching the floor. She hung, straining her arms, moaning in pain, horror and despair. It had been made quite clear to her what was to happen. She was to be unutterably shamed before the whole of Nexos, the capital of Barbaria. There was a ripple of applause as six naked females were now led out into the courtyard. Each was recognised as a leading member of ex-Princess Alexena‘s Court. All were shivering with terror; all carried weals or welts raised by rod or whip. None, however, had been so severely flogged as their former Princess. Each woman, quite new to slavery of course, was now harnessed and led to the front of the cage. Here they were placed between the shafts to which their wrists were shackled. An Overseer mounted on a small seat at the top of the cage, set out in front. She carried a long whip which looked rather like a bamboo fishing rod with six feet of plaited rawhide leather dangling from it.
“They’re off,” said Venetia. And they were ... The whip cracked once... twice... finding two sets of naked buttocks. Screaming squeals rose up.
“Pull!” bellowed the Overseer. The slaves pulled... and pulled their full weight. There was clapping from the balcony as the cage moved off. Everyone watched excitedly as it made two circuits of the Palace courtyard before heading for the main gates. Xena, swinging to and fro, blatantly exposed, was groaning horribly. Two male slaves opened the gates and the cage disappeared through them. Then there came a tumultuous roar from the watching crowds outside. Shouts... cheers... ribald laughter... jeers... boos. There could be no doubt at all that the citizens of Barbaria had turned against their onetime Ruler. They were delighted in the spectacle of her total downfall. The tumult of sound continued as the cage was dragged towards the main part of the city. Venetia, smiling contentedly. was trying to imagine how Xena must feel. She concluded it was scarcely possible to bear thinking about!
“I can hardly wait for tomorrow,“ cried out Flavia, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Why... what’s going to happen?” asked Miralda.
“Oh... you won’t have heard, I suppose.” She giggled. “Xena’s going in that cage again and she`s going to take the same trip... but this time she will be accompanied.”
“Accompanied?”
“Yes,” replied Flavia. “Twelve specially chosen male slaves are going in with her. She is. you might say, going to be fucked around the city!” There was laughter, applause and some cheering.
“Twice round the city,” stated Venetia.
“Marvellous ...”
“Quite wonderful...”
“Perfect!”
The praise for the new Princess Venetia was unstinted. She had won all hearts.
“After that,” said Venetia, “I shall have her brought to me... and start teaching her the true meaning of submission...” She rose... tall, blonde and most beautiful... and swept triumphantly from the balcony.

End of Book 3