“I Delicia” or the “Delicia Scrolls” are the wild and salacious memoirs of Aurelia Livia Helenus or “Delicia” (her more widely used slave name) who was imprisoned and enslaved on the order of the Emperor Tiberius after her family was accused of conspiracy and treason.
Delicia was renowned for her beauty and it was said that “any man who cast eyes upon her would immediately be smitten by her charms.”
After her father’s death she was held captive by the Emperor in the cells of his Palace in Rome to be tortured at his pleasure. Then as a further act of punishment and, it was said, in order to humiliate her even more, the Emperor banished her from Rome and imprisoned her as a sex slave on Capri, his private Island, which at that time was infamous for its debauchery, wild orgies and sex games.
Somehow she survived to tell her tale.
Here Delicia describes the whipping to which she was subjected before the mob at the auction in Rome and how she overcame her feelings of shame.
Image – Jean-Léon Gérôme
Image – “The Captive” by Alfred Plauzeau
Note: According to regulations pertaining to public slave auctions, all potential slave purchasers the right to ask for a complete and thorough examination of the merchandise being offered for auction. This, according to a meticulous interpretation of the rules, included a scrutiny the slave’s character, a test his or her acquiescence and willingness to submit to discipline. Normal procedure was to whip a female slave on the breasts and buttocks 30 times or for no longer than two minutes. A male slave could whipped be on any part of the body for as long as was deemed necessary, providing of course that no real physical damage was done to the goods on display.
The auctioneer addressed the crowd, “A number of requests have been made to assess the slave’s submission and acquiescence by public flogging. It will of course be the pleasure of this house to comply.”
The roar from the spectators was so loud that, fearful of a return to the chaos of a few minutes ago, he raised his hands once more for calm. They were cheering as loudly as before but now it was much more good-naturedly. The mob had won. They were going to get their show. A comely slave girl was to be whipped for their pleasure. They were just eager now to get on with the show.
As was I.
A centurion was checking my manacles. I was chained at the wrists and the ankles. As he did so my sex purred in pleasure at the proximity of his fit muscular body. He was very free with his hands and his fingers brushed against my buttocks and even my breasts a little more often than seemed necessary and for reasons that seemed to have nothing to do with the chains that bound me. I wasn’t about to complain though. Even if I could have, that is. He was tall with curls of bright blond hair that fell over his ears and forehead, almost into his eyes, a northerner perhaps. I looked down at his tanned thighs. How firm and sturdy they were. And the crown of his manhood resting at the top of them. Resting? Or was it rising for me? Did it seek my sex as its jewel? Would he be the one to whip me? I hoped so. I wanted a man. A strong man. I wanted to feel the power and strength of his disciplined perfectly constructed body. I wanted his sinewy muscles bulging and flexing for me. Aching for me. Straining for me. Yes. Will you fuck me? I need it. Do it now. I looked him straight in the eye. I shouldn’t have. It was pure provocation. I smiled eagerly and fluttered my eyes. Yes, come on, big man. Your so strong with your big muscles. Do your worst. You know you want to. Show me how much I’m worth. He stared at me a moment and just coolly said, “You need to be taught a lesson, slut. And by all the gods I will make you learn it well.”
Oh yes. My heart was beating so fast now and for some reason I just wanted to laugh. But not at him though. I was overcome by a kind of crazy exhilaration which just made me want to laugh out loud. It was all so absurd. I wanted this. I mean I really wanted it. A whipping. What on earth had happened to me? That slave girl with the mysterious blue eyes who had come on to wash me down after they’d pelted me with all the fruit. I was sure there was something odd about her. Those magical blue eyes. I couldn’t get her face out of my mind. I heard her voice. She’d called me sister. I’d felt such enormous pleasure when she’d touched my breasts, dabbing at them with the damp rag. And she’d touched me. Her fingers had entered my sex. My nipples were still hard and my sex ached for her hand once more. I’d wanted her to kiss me. She had awoken something fantastical within me. A kind of craving. A taste for new desires. New experiences. There was a strength that could be gleaned from them. Right now I felt almost invincible. Ready for anything. And I knew it was because of her.
“Oh. Yes sir, please sir,” I said cheekily to the centurion. I delivered him a look that was so hot and sultry and sensual it couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anything other than what it was. I deliberately stared down at his cock and whispered, “Oh centurion, please, sir, show me, sir. I need it so badly.”
But he ignored me and with a glowering face he walked off to the side of the stage to wait while the auctioneer was speaking. I gazed out into the crowd. Nearly all men. A few women. Some of the women on the look out for a fresh pretty cock or cunt for their own purposes, others in search of suitable pleasure slaves for their husbands. Maybe the emperor’s wife was here too. And here was little me standing naked and proud before them all. Gods, they were all gawking up at me now like I was some kind of freak. I’m just a woman, I thought. I just stared back at them imperiously. I shouldn’t have but what difference did it make now? If I was punished for impertinence or disobedience now what did I care? Would I get a much harsher whipping? Very well. So be it. I can take it. You want proof of something? I’ll give you proof, boys. More proof than you can deal with.
I studied their faces. And in the old men I saw the frustration and desperation in their eyes. In the young men I saw hunger. Eyes straining at me, eating me alive, their minds running amok with all manner of lusty dreams and fantasies. And with a need that was way more powerful than they were. I must say I felt quite a thrill at being the center of so much attention. They all thought they could buy me. Own me. Well I knew now there was a secret part of me they would never own. But if a show was all the wanted? Very well. Let’s get on with this. Boys, I have a show for you that you won’t believe. You’ll be begging for me. Reach for your purses and money bags. If there is a record price for a slave sold at this auction I am going to beat it.
Just then I heard the auctioneer say something about me being “high quality flesh.”
He came over and stood right next to me. He put his arm around my waist. I could smell him. A strong whiff of meat and onions. Gods, food. I suddenly felt ravenous. I hadn’t eaten in so long and sexual arousal always makes me hungry.
“I hereby offer to you this slave for auction. Arrested for crimes against the state, enslaved by order of the emperor himself and generously offered for auction to you as a sign of his love for the people of Rome.”
The crowd cheered. “Long Live Rome! Long Live the Emperor!”
“And just look what a feast she is, ladies and gentlemen. Not just for the eyes but also for the palate,” he had regained his confidence now, he was back in control. Normality had well and truly been restored after all the madness of a few minutes ago. Just give the mob what they want and they’ll be as happy as the proverbial pigs in shit.
Grinning, with his head turned to the crowd, he took my right breast in his right hand, as if weighing it. He squeezed it and then slowly leaned down and kissed it. He did the same with the left and while he was slobbering all over it I looked down at the top of his head. He was balding and the skin under the thinning grey hair was stained brown and spotty with age. He was no good to me. I looked longingly back at the guard. He was standing there with his powerful legs astride. Those thighs. Hmm. He was what I wanted. I gave him another steamy look. It’s you I want. Are you paying attention? But he remained absolutely expressionless, blank as papyrus, eyes staring into nothing. As any good well disciplined soldier must, I suppose. But I admired him for it.
However behind his eyes I could see it all. There was so much turmoil. His desires. His frustrations. His lust was defeating him. He wanted me so bad. He was weary from it. He could never show it of course. That would be a sign of weakness. Only with the whip would he be able to demonstrate his desire for me. His need to win me. To dominate me. To own me.
I was due for a terrible lashing if he had anything do with it.
I was just about to smile at him again when the auctioneer put his teeth around my nipple and bit into it. I gasped. He was flicking his tongue all over it and sucking hard on it as if it were a fresh cherry and he was drinking its sublime sweetness. Then suddenly he sank his teeth in and this tie he bit really hard and I cried out in pain. It hurts. Oh Gods my sex. Pleasure. I looked back at the centurion. A tremor of ecstasy. Yes. I was shaking. Hairs were standing up on the back of my neck. A hint of what was to come? Again. Harder. Bite harder. Yessss. My legs almost failed me and I only had eyes for the centurion and I felt cool and shivery even though I was boiling hot and I felt I was losing myself to a desire that was taking me over completely. I was wet. Yes. And not just from perspiration.
The crowd was hushed. The atmosphere was taut with tension. There needed to be a release. And soon. The auctioneer was good. Very good. He knew how to put on a show. Raise the temperature. The bids would be much higher. Yes. I was going to beat the record alright.
Then he leaned down in front of me and cupping both my breasts in his bony pale hands he bent down and licked at my nipples. They were still stinging from when he’d bit them and now they felt enormous, burning, aching terribly but gods I was loving it.
Absolute silence reigned now. You could hear a pin drop. They could hear my every last ecstatic sigh and moan.
Finally he rose and turned to face the crowd. “Hmm how very sweet she is indeed! Almost unbearably so! This is fine tasty flesh.”
He patted my ass, “Fine flesh indeed. Rich flesh for the connoisseurs among you.” He laughed and deliberately put his hand to his cock and patted it in front of everyone. Adjusting the folds of his toga hesaid “Gods, I can barely hold myself back”.
Standing next to me and stroking my bare ass all the while he continued, “How would you like to take this fine piece of high born slave ass home with you and enjoy it rather more privately, hmm? When was the last time you gazed upon such wholesome charms as these? Would there be any greater pleasure than administering discipline to one so haughty as this beauty? Teaching her the ways of the house. To acquiesce. To serve you. To submit to you fully and utterly. All slaves need a whipping but can you imagine her, gentlemen, her lovely red rump just ripe for the horse whip, begging you to stop. Pleading with you. Oh such sweet sobbing. What cruel pleasures would she inspire eh? Would you be able to resist them. And once started would you be able to stop? Shall we give her a test now. I think we must, don’t you?”
He spanked me hard on the ass with the palm of his hand and I jumped forward in surprise and emitted a tiny yelp.
“Silence, slave! Down on your knees! Prostrate yourself. Quickly or the whipping will be worse for you!”
I obeyed at once. I dropped to my knees in one swift movement and keeping my eyes down I lay forward on my belly with my arms outstretched in front of me, towards the crowd, as if beseeching them for mercy.
“Oh isn’t she charming? So willing to please, I assure you. Do you not think she is a bargain at any price, ladies and gentlemen?”
He prodded my backside with the tip of his horse whip for a few moments and I thought he was going to whip me there on the floor however he soon ordered me to stand up again and to turn around slowly so that the rest of my “charms” could be shown off to the public.
Image – Ernest Normand, “White slave”
When my back was fully turned to the crowd, he ordered me to bend over. “Touch your toes, slave. Show them how fit and healthy you are.”
I obeyed at once. My gaping ass was now on full display to everyone in the entire room.
“Look at that gentlemen. What a sight. Is that not one of the finest views in all Rome?”
He tapped my bottom with the horse whip and barked, “Spread your legs”. I obeyed as quick as I could but I wasn’t fast enough for him and thwacked me right between the legs. “Wider!” he screamed, “Further apart! As wide as you can! Let’s see that hole.”
And so I stood there. Bent over double. With my legs spread so wide apart they were almost at a right angle. Any more and I’d fall over. I had never felt so exposed in my life. To be displayed like this. So naked. So crudely. As if I were an animal. A beast in the arena. The position I was in was not entirely comfortable either and the muscles in my thighs soon started to ache from the strain but I must confess my sex was humming and purring like a wild cat. She was calling to the animals of the night. She was open. Wide open. But empty. Hungry. As if she needed to be fed soon.
The auctioneer gripped my buttocks hard with both hands and pressed his fingernails into the chubby flesh. He leaned against me and I could feel his hard cock through the folds of his toga. A thrill ran through me. What now. Was I about to be penetrated? Sodomized? Did I want to be penetrated? By him? No, the blond guard. Him. Yes. Like this? Oh yes. His long hard cock violating me. Too big for me. Tearing into me. Oh I’d beg him. In full few of an auditorium. Shameless. Absolutely shameless. Something within me craved it. Yes, to be used so publicly. So meanly. Fucked in the ass by a heroic handsome centurion in front of a hundred envious lusty men.
And I felt no shame about it at all now. Quite the opposite.
I would not play their shame game. That’s what they wanted. To shame me. But it’s all in the mind. They cannot humiliate me like this. Not if I don’t let them. It is I who hold the true power here. And my sex was seeping with it. It flowed from me alone. And I felt it like thunder within me. A thunderstorm storm was coming. Mine.
The gods were in heaven and heaven was my pussy.
For a moment it was all too much and I felt a dizzy and I thought I might lose my balance and fall forward. I could feel his hands all over my ass and his rough fingers poking and pinching between my legs penetrating my hole and pulling roughly at it. Widening it. Stretching it. His thumbs. Oh Jupiter. Pressing inside me. Oh. Ouch. I felt something hard. On the edge. It burnt. What is it? He was pushing something large into me. Was he going to to…?
All of a sudden whatever it was was yanked out of me and I was struck several times in a row by some kind of whip or flogger and I shrieked out in pain and almost fell forward onto my face. I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t expected it. He yelled at me to keep still and be quiet and then his fingers reached between my thighs to my sex and his bony grasping fingers pinched hard at my labia and pulled roughly at it and then poked inside me there too and I grunted each time he pinched me but without any warning and before I knew what was happening and for no reason at all his raging horsewhip was raining blow after visious blow on my defenseless bare ass.
He whipped me a dozen times I think. Maybe more. I lost count. Very hard too. I hadn’t realized he was that strong. He hadn’t looked it. The burning pain seared into my buttocks. I howled and couldn’t help trying to hop up and down on the souls of my feet as the pain grew fiercer but that just enraged him more and he whipped me harder. The burning sensation was unbearably intense. And in no time it seemed to have expanded to all over my buttocks. What did being branded feel like? Was it worse than this? Oh gods did I have that to look forward to as well?
The momentum of the lashes pushed me forward and I would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t intervened gripping my shoulders and holding me firmly in place. I glanced up. It was the blond centurion. The tops of his thighs were directly in front of my face. His cock just inches from my mouth. The proximity of it distracted somewhat me from what was going on behind me and I think I even licked my lips. Was he hard for me yet? A really hard blow from the auctioneer would push me right onto his cock. Was that what they wanted? Oh I was definitely willing to prove my acquiescence in that respect. If there was one thing I loved it was taking a man’s hard cock in my mouth and watching him writhe at my tongue’s insistent behest.
I was so lost in the idea of it that it was moment before I realized he’d stopped lashing me.
“The flesh is ripe,” I heard the auctioneer say, behind me “The slave will now be whipped hard on the buttocks for two minutes.”
Behind me I could a massive roar. It was a wonder the roof didn’t fly off.
What did he say again? Will be whipped for two minutes? But I thought he’d already whipped me.
Maybe he hadn’t been able to resist having a turn of his own
It started at once. Again I had no time to think. With my hands gripping at my ankles – my chain was just long enough to allow to do so – and my ass fully exposed to the entire room I bore the lashes as best I could. There were two of them whipping me. Through my legs I could see two pairs of army sandals. The lashes fell rapidly and almost continuously. Blow after blow after fiery blow. After about half a minute or so the burning sensation began to overwhelm me once more and I was aware of nothing but the singeing pain and my need to avoid it. I think if it hadn’t been for the blond guard in front of me I would have fainted to the floor. His cock was there. Ever present. I fixed my mind on it. I wanted to feel it on my face. It would be so hard. So wet. So juicy. Images of me sucking on it flashed into my mind. I would suck it as they flogged me. Would they do that? The idea of it distracted me almost totally from the infernal hell being inflicted on my ass which now seemed to be something distant, almost outside of me. Think. Yes. His cock. Oh yes. His thighs. Think of him on top you. Fucking you. His massive chest and those strong powerful arms holding you down. I could smell him. Leather, metal and sweat. Man smell. Yes. Yes. Yes. Then the heat of lust and pain and pleasure engulfed me and it became the only thing I was aware of. Oh Gods please. I can’t stand it.
Then. Suddenly. More flashes. Memory. A flash from the past. That slave boy my brother and I had tied to the tree and whipped for being lazy. How beautiful he’d been when we whipped him. The slave boy’s cock. Had it been hard? Yes. Had he enjoyed being whipped by a young girl as as pretty as I? Yes. I remember playing with his cock after we whipped him. Teasing him till he came. Making him lick the cum off my fingers.
I was writhing uncontrollably now. Screaming. In pain or pleasure I have no idea. Held in place only by powerful hands that brooked no mercy. I was beautiful. I was naked. Yes. My body. I was being whipped for my beauty. For my sex. I could feel the rhythm of the blows. My ass moved in time with the whips. A dance between us. Yes. Yes. And with each step of the dance I became more beautiful. Just like the slave boy and his gorgeous erect slave cock cumming for me. Just like the centurion and his ruthless soldier cock. Fighting for me. Taking me prisoner. Laying me waste. The pain was now something I fed off. It was beautiful. I needed it. A source of beauty. And power. My sex was hot. Burning. Infernal. Explosive. And now I didn’t know if I was feeling pain or pleasure or whatever it was but it was strange and so exhilarating and yes and yes and yes and….
And then suddenly it stopped.
My ass was raw and I could feel my heart pounding as if it were going to explode inside my chest and I was dripping in sweat and I could just about breathe but I didn’t care.
I felt free. As if floating. Exhilarated. I had survived it.
I had won.
Fuck me boys, fuck me.
There was a loud strange whistling wind rushing through my ears but I could hear the auctioneer say, “Look at those rosy red cheeks. She seems braced by it does she not? Maybe she likes it. Do you know I think she does.”
I felt as if new life had been whipped into me. Literally. A new me. Clean. Vigorous. Alive. Oh yes so fucking alive!
“Shall we whip the breasts now, gentlemen?”
A thunderous roar of approval seemed to come from all around me. The air was full of noise. Everyone was shouting yes yes yes! God even a voice inside me was shouting yes yes yes. Over and over. Yes yes yes….
Drenched in sweat and my chest heaving for the air, I looked out at the sea of faces in front of me. My hair was in my eyes but I flicked it back. I’m ready. Do it now. Hurry.
My nipples were so big and red and hard. I wanted them squeezed. Bitten. Oh please. Yes. Torture them. Whip them. Hurry.
They moved me back several paces. My manacled hands were hoisted up by a kind of pulley to a kind of beam above me. I was hoisted up by the wrists. Hanging by my arms. Not too high. My feet were still touching the ground. But if I moved at all I could only do it on tiptoe.
When I was fully secured the two guards stood in front of me. Oh Gods thank you yes! One of them was the blond one. The other was dark skinned with a square set jaw, piercing eyes and a kind of leathery face. They were both tall burly men. A nice pair. Very fit. Good looking. Typical looking centurions in fact. Statuesque even. Physiques that appeared to have been carved out of hard Roman flesh and bone. Every rich lady’s dream fuck. The dark one was already stripped to the waist and the blond one was removing his tunic and I watched breathless in anticipation as he too stripped down to nothing. Gods, with their divine muscles bulging and their skin glistening and shining with sweat they were the most beautiful looking examples of Roman manhood I’d seen since that time I saw the gladiator Brutus Magno fight in the arena when I was a young girl. And believe me, what a sight he was! I swooned for him all summer long and for months my nights were full of dark fantasies where I was kidnapped by evil villains and he would come to my rescue.
The dark one was already flicking his whip. He couldn’t wait. Neither could I. He must have been one of the pair who’d whipped me on the ass. I looked at him in the eye and licked my lips and smiled. Show me how hard you are big boy. Is there a man in you? I want to feel him. He saw me, and frowning, flicked the whip again. Then I watched him go over to the side of the stage and pick up two short bullwhips. He returned and handed one of them to the blond one. Blondy looked surprised for a moment and even gave him a look as if to say, are you sure? Then there was a kind of conspiratorial look between them. A smile. Friends. They’d probably fought alongside each other, I thought. Did they go out drinking and whoring together?
Both of them then turned to look at me.
The look on their faces. Oh Jupiter was I going to get a whipping!
The auctioneer asked them if they were ready and they both nodded. They were ready. So was I. I leaned forward and stuck my breasts out and gave them my best hot and steamy look. C’mon boys. Let’s see what you’re made of. Whip me.
The auctioneer raised his hand.
When he lowered it everything dissolved into fire. The blows rained down upon both my breasts and I felt like my chest was aflame. Their rhythm was fast and relentless. Cruel and vicious. The whips attacked my breasts with a hunger that was monstrous, rabid and demented. The boys were good. Battle hardened. Vicious brutes. They worked in tandem. Like a team. Like a killing machine. Gods they were beautiful. Let me feel the power in those muscles. Let me feel your lust upon me and within me. Your cocks hard and wet and dark and mysterious and throbbing and gods yes so fucking beautiful yes yes yes I want you both of you all of you inside me oh gods I want to I’m going to oh gods yes yes yes….
Screaming and with my eyes wide open I threw myself forward on to their whips and dived into the furious baying waters. Like swimming in – how can I describe it? – swimming in rushing seas of cold fire. Like being embraced by something monstrous and beautiful and deadly all at the same time. It is both pleasure and pain and it is neither. It is everything and nothing. I wanted to cry out but had no breath. I wanted to laugh but there was no air. There was only something enormous inside me. An unbearable pressure within me. An unsatiable need. It was unstoppable now. I felt I was going to explode. I looked down at myself. I saw my naked body writhing and pulling so dementedly at the restraints that bound me; my breasts heaving, red hot from the furious lashes, my thighs trembling and my cunt yes my glorious beautiful cunt beating out the rhythm of its own unbridled ecstasy.
Gods I was beautiful.
I was free at last.
I howled out to all the gods in long low moaning cries that soared through the hot heavy humid air and I was lifted skywards over the pain and the frustration and the pettiness towards something larger, grander, more beautiful than anything else I had ever known. And finally I felt myself, my true self, my breasts hot and warm and bountiful and my nipples hard and rosy and aflame and my sex in spasms gushing so sweetly until I could bear it no longer and gods I started to laugh. Yes laugh. Really laugh. Hysterically. I was a mad woman. Lost in frenzy. Pain. Pleasure. It was all the same now. It was all the fucking same. And I was part of something much much greater. So much more beautiful.
I had complete control.
I was free.
Look there, high above, in the vast blue silence.
Image – Gustave Dore, “Andrómeda”
“Now what am I bid for this fine lusty slave?”
Bids came thick and fast from all over the auditorium. The auctioneer had his work cut out just to keep up with them all. The offers shot up so fast people gasped in the wonder of it. Bids as high as this had never been known before. It was if the buyers had all become possessed.
But after a minute or so calm was more or less restored and the potential purchasers were narrowed down to about half a dozen. Bidding continued furiously for another minute or so but eventually each one of these, with a shrug of the shoulders or a look of resigned disappointment, found himself having to drop out, until only two remained.
Then, when one of the two remaining bidders realized who he was competing against, he also quickly and graciously withdrew.
The auctioneer banged his gavel. The slave girl was sold.
The price was a record.
However the auction house never received a single sesterce.
When they realized who the buyer was, they didn’t dare ask.
It appeared that the slave Delicia had never really been up for sale at all. It had all just been a show.
To be continued.