War Booty
Copyright© 2025 by CreepyUnclePete
Chapter 3
Historical Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A heroic officer in the Roman Empire is rewarded with several beautiful young slaves. Includes some supernatural/religious elements and some sex scenes, but is mainly a historical drama.
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Ma/Ma Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Rape Slavery BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Historical Military War Magic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father BDSM MaleDom Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male Black Female White Male White Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Voyeurism Prostitution Violence Illustrated
After the Battle of Great Ryle, eleven prisoners who were crippled or elderly were given to the war God Mars, in thanks for our great victory. I had the honor of sacrificing one, an old man with only one eye. I made sure to stab downward midway between the collar bone and left shoulder blade, directly into the heart. There was no glory in making them suffer.
The rest of the world PAUSED. As I pulled the spear from his body, the tip glowed red and red lightning from the sky struck it! The spear shaft turned to ash in my hands, and the head fell to the ground as a blob of molten metal! Two huge red eyes in the sky dripped blood instead of tears. A deep and menacing voice shook the world, declaring; “Soon your commander will give you my gift. Serve me well, that one day you might rule the world!”
The blob of metal on the ground had changed to an amulet with the symbol of Mars on both sides. As I picked it up, time started again. When we returned to camp, the first thing I did was tie it on a cord and put it over my head as a necklace. It was the most mystical and amazing experience of my life, up to that point. I prayed to thank Mars, and begged that he would grant me enough courage to fully honor him!
Next, I found Legatus Pullo. He’d changed out of his armor into a red toga when the fighting ended. From the shape of it, he was obviously quite well fed. I handed him the chief’s bull helmet. His inadvertent brief smile changed back to his facade of anger. He pointed at me and said, “All of you men, look at this soldier! He’s covered in blood, ash, and dirt! His lorica is dented and stained, his helmet plume has been burned to nothing, and his boots are charred! There are cuts and bruises all over him! He’s a wreck of a man! If I ever see any of you look this way, I’ll have you flogged!”
I wondered what was the Hades he was doing? “ ... unless you’ve just won the greatest victory in a generation! I also hear he saved a baby during the fighting. Cheer him! Celebrate his deeds, and do the same the next time you fight!” He held a cup of wine up high then handed it to me.
The crowd chanted my name, “KEN - EE - US! KEN - EE - US! KEN - EE - US!”
When the cheers and applause died down, he told me; “I have bad news for you, Titus Cenius. You’re no longer Cavalry Tribune.” He only paused a short moment. “I’m appointing you Legatus Secundus, my second in command. You get a cabin now instead of a tent. Enjoy having a wood floor and roof over your head, instead a tent over mud.”
“I will! Thank you, Legate!”
He continued, “If the Senate approves, you’ll have your own Legion in a year or two. You’re a politician now, instead of a soldier. My condolences.”
One of the Centurions told me our losses, six hundred wounded, and only a hundred and seventy heroes. I wondered to myself, “The Picts lost fifteen thousand heroes. They ate, they loved, and they had children, just like us. Are they really that different?”
After I cleaned up a little and my belongings were moved in, I had a soldier call Narvus and Crato to my new cabin. As usual, I gave each of my slaves and servants a few coins for moving the heavy shrine. I told them, “With the victory today, this should be the last time you need to move the shrine until we go home.” They smiled in relief.
I gave the oldest slave, Doke, five extra coins and said, “Share some wine with Jez tonight. All of you earned it.” The four of them eagerly left, anticipating alcohol and sex.
“Crato, I don’t think you should be a Decanus anymore.” His jaw dropped. He fought very well, but I had heard he hated being in charge. I asked, “Do you like commanding your men?”
“Sir, I ah, I love the Legion, and I’m good at fighting. I do what I’m told.”
“I’m sure you do what you’re told very well. Since I’ve been promoted, I want you as my personal bodyguard, my Lictor, with the rank and pay of an Optio.”
“Thank you, sir! Thank you!”
“You’ll need this more than me.” I handed him my new sword. I got another the next day. I was pretty sure if he smiled any wider, his face would break. I ordered, “Go pick a new Decanus as your replacement, then get some food and wine.” He saluted, “SIR!”, then hobbled away.
“Narvus, you’re a friend and I trust you. Since I know you’re a brave and intelligent commander, I’m awarding you my old position, Equitatus Parviclavius.”
He choked up for a moment. “Sir! Thank you, Titus Cenius! But ... my family isn’t noble. I can’t be any more than a Centurion. Tribunes have to be a Patrician, or related to a Senator!”
“I say you can! Anybody who says otherwise can deal with the might of the fourteenth Legion.” His smile was even wider than Crato’s.
In celebration of our great victory; we drank, and feasted, and drank a lot more. Most rutted with any female they could find. Thousands of young Picts became women against their will that night. A few of the men were still drinking and singing when the sun came up.
We’d spend the next few weeks looting the Pict villages, then start our return to Rome, for a Triumph parade! FINALLY! I could meet the Emperor! And I could go home to my beautiful wife!
Rome was a five- or six-week march and mothers with babies usually don’t travel well. The Empire had solutions for nearly everything. The oldest third of the soldiers were given the option to retire and settle in Caledonia, getting half their usual retirement pay, a farm or land to start one, and a young widow with a small child or three to be their wife. Over half of them agreed. Pullo mentioned his niece and her husband were unlucky romantically and wanted two children. They would meet us in Ghent at the end of the month. It was only a four- or five-day boat ride and three days’ march.
Pullo offered the crusty old Prefect a large farm and three young women. The Prefect put his hands on the shoulders of a young soldier and an Optio, saying, “These are my babies. I’ll grow them up, no matter how many floggings it takes!”
The Optio loudly declared, “Mamma!” and hugged him. It was one of the very rare times Pullo ever laughed. Later I saw the Optio digging a new latrine by himself while his men watched, but he still had a smile on his face.
We planned to sell a quarter of our prizes in Belgica. The other eight thousand captives would go to Rome with us. The few hundred healthy young men would become gladiators.
Since you’re probably wondering, the most expensive slaves I’d heard of were a successful gladiator who went for thirty thousand denari, and a beautiful woman five Senators all wanted. The richest bought her for the astounding sum of six gold talents! A quarter million denari! That’s enough money to fund three entire Legions for a year, the weight of three grown men in GOLD! Building the Colosseum in Rome only cost twice that. I doubt more than a hundred people alive have even seen that much gold in person.
Pullo made me an offer. If I didn’t want to stay with the army, I could settle in Caledonia with a young widow as my new wife, two others as concubines, and their four young children. I would get a town to run as their Patrician and command the local Auxilia, or militia. I would have land three times the size of my island, five hundred part-time soldiers under my command, and three women in my bed instead of one.
It would have tempted many men, but I politely declined. I loved my wife and sons, and the town I grew up in. There was also a good chance that soon I might command a Legion of my own!
My share of the booty would be half a silver talent, and whatever I could get for the four hundred slaves assigned to me. I quickly calculated in my head. I should get at least five talents! Maybe even eight, with some luck! I would need to exchange it for gold, just to be able to move my wealth! Eight silver talents plus the eight I already had would be forty thousand denari!
A little before sunset, we stripped the adult slaves and gathered them in front of a small hill. My guilty eyes betrayed me, staring at several attractive women. At least half of them had beautiful blue eyes. A thousand or so even had blonde hair, which was almost unknown in Rome! So exotic and pretty!
A few dozen especially pleasing prizes had hair of fire! Beautiful RED hair! Incredible! I had heard of red hair once, but I was sure it was only a legend! SO GORGEOUS! If I weren’t married...
I turned away and said a quick prayer to Venus, asking that my wife keep her beauty as long as possible.
The Legate stood atop the hill preparing for Castigentum, a grim and distasteful ritual, undertaken each time a large group of slaves were captured. I hated the thought, but knew it served to keep them under control.
I noticed the little girl I had rescued. I couldn’t let her see what was about to happen! I started walking toward her. She yelled “UBA!”, pushing the woman holding her away. She ran to me and hugged my leg. I carried her to my cabin and sat her on the floor.
Later I would learn that “Uba” was their word for “Older male relative”, uncle or big brother. Obviously “Ama” meant “Mother”, and “Apa” was “Father”. “Uma” was “Older female relative”.
My normally ferocious guard dog Tyranus let out a whine when he first saw her. He only liked me, and usually wanted to kill and eat anybody else. I suspected he was at least a quarter wolf. Some of the men called him ‘Squalusterro’ or ‘land shark.’
He smelled the girl’s butt and hair, then laid down with his head on her legs. He licked her little hand and made a happy noise. She pulled on his tail and ears, HARD. He put up with it. Any adult who tried that would instantly be an amputee. I wondered if there was something wrong with him. Was he sick? Was he sick five years, and suddenly got better?
I gave the girl a cup of water and a piece of bread, motioned for her to stay, and hurried back to my place by the hill.
Legatus Pullo slowly and clearly shouted, to be heard by the large crowd. “This is the most important night of your new lives, slaves. Pay close attention and listen well.” He paused a moment, while Pict traitor Zixrix translated his speech into their native tongue, then continued, “We will tell and show you the new laws you will live or die by.”
Soldiers led five naked and tied slaves near the top of the hill, in front of the Legatus. “For refusing to obey an order from your master, you may be whipped.” A soldier whipped an old woman’s back ten times. She shrieked in pain with the first four strokes, then cried loudly and continuously through the rest.
I knew what was coming next and forced myself to watch, as an example to the men. “For not listening, you may lose an ear.” The soldier cut off her ear and she screamed even louder than before. “If you try to run away, the first time you will lose a toe and the second time, a foot.” I couldn’t see it, but heard another scream.
“If you say you are too tired or sick to work, there is no reason to keep you, so you will lose your head.” Mercifully, an axe ended her torment. “Obviously, the punishment for rape or refusing sex with a master, is the loss of a slave’s sex parts.” The soldier demonstrated on a man, then a woman. Many of the slaves and even a few of the younger soldiers emptied their stomachs involuntarily. I won’t describe the ceremony any further, but it continued until the five slaves had all been mutilated and killed.
“As you see, disobedience is dealt with harshly!” He paused quite a while after the translation finished. The Legatus concluded, “Obey the laws! Obey your masters! And you will be provided for!”
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