The Freeing of Spartacus
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For two long years the slave war had shook Rome to the very core. Although in
its all conquering peak, the Roman army had been pushed to the very edge by this
huge group of renegade gladiators and slaves. At their head was the Thracian
gladiator Spartacus who, though born into slavery had never bowed a knee to his
Through thirty six years of slavery he had stood rebellious, ignoring the
beatings and death threats which came his way. Even his masters had feared him,
recognising an undefeatable spirit within a giant hearted man.
After his escape, and during the wars; the Roman Generals sent to defeat him
were in awe of his incredible fortitude. Many soldiers died and one name was
discussed at Senate more than any other; the name of Spartacus. It was felt he
was not human, that he was some kind of re-incarnated God on earth. Much of the
Senate were in favour of freeing him and his men, so Rome could limp back into
some kind of normality. The wealthy, looked at their own slaves with a different
slant. Men they had viewed as domesticated animals now became a concern. So many
slaves had escaped to join the rebels that Rome was shaken to its very
Finally the might of The Roman legions brought the rebels to defeat. The Year
was 71 BC and the heroic dissidents lay dead or in chains. The populous of Rome
were cock-o-hoop, yet still there was an uncomfortable reality. For the status
quo to return, Spartacus himself must be brought to his knees. He must be made
to grovel, to abase himself, to accept the rule of his betters.
He was brought to Rome in chains, whipped like an animal and spat at by the
throngs. However he remained indignant, defiant and proud. He carried his head
high and stared down anyone who looked at him. His army was defeated, but in his
heart Spartacus was not.
His captors gaoled him, they whipped him daily, tortured him, but still he
refused to submit. After a month of this his name again topped the agenda at The
The Senate were split, those from a military background demanded he be executed
immediately. Those from Patrician stock cried he must be broken and made to
‘Cut his throat, crucify him! Whatever it takes, just rid us of him!’ insisted
‘No, no, no!’ implored Senator Perasuss, ‘kill him now and he will become a
martyr, an icon to the servile races. Make him grovel, make him beg and plead
for mercy. Kill him then if it pleases but first he must be brought to his
Agrilla again rose to his feet, ‘You have no idea what sort of man we are
dealing with Senators! This is a man the like of which we have never
encountered. No whip can break him, no threats can break him; he is
The argument went on without resolve. The Senate agreed to meet again in a
week’s time to vote on what should become of Spartacus.
That very evening Perasuss visited the object of discussion in his cell. Looking
at him through the bars he looked like a defeated man. He slept on the floor
covered in straw, a bowl of water beside him. Perasuss ordered him to be
whipped. Guards entered his cell and chained his wrists to a sturdy beam.
The Senator stood with a goblet of wine as a guard laid into Spartacus with a
heavy bullwhip. After forty strokes the victim began to grunt, but forty more
and he still wouldn’t beg or plead.
Perasuss stood against the bars of the cell and spoke to Spartacus, ‘slave,
surely you must want this torturous existence to end?’
Spartacus opened his eyes and grunted what sounded like an affirmative.
‘Well, all you have to do is kneel before me and declare Rome your better and
I’ll let them slit your throat.’
Spartacus smiled through the pain. What sweet release it would be to die
quickly. What a relief it would be to leave this mortal coil, no more pain, no
more torture. Yet looking at the Senator he defiantly shook his head.
Perasuss threw the contents of his cup into the captive’s face in anger. He
turned to compose himself as a slave nervously approached him and with head
bowed low replenished his goblet with wine.
Again he turned to the whipped man. ‘Very well Spartacus. I shall give you one
last offer. We shall give you gold and transport you to free Gaul. You shall
have your freedom. All you have to do is kneel before The Senate and apologise
for your insolence.’
Spartacus looked at the senator and could see he was telling the truth. Freedom,
he thought to himself, what he had fought for, for two years, the very thing he
had dreamt of for thirty eight years. He looked Perasuss square in the eye and
tried to envisage himself kneeling before The Senate. He smiled and so did The
Senator. Spartacus drew his breath and forcefully spat in the face of his
Perasuss scurried away in revile. In his anger he ordered the death of the wine
slave, for no other reason than he had borne witness to his ordeal. The slave
was dragged into a cell and slayed. Perasuss stormed out of the holding gaol and
into his awaiting litter. Eight docile slaves carefully carried him home.
That evening Perasuss entertained a few close friends at his luxurious villa.
Fellow senator Grabius, nobleman Crassus, The Lady Helena and last but by no
means least The Great Lady Julia.
As they ate a splendid supper, their host informed them of the day’s events; he
did however omit to telling of the fact Spartacus had spat at him.
The group of aristocrats inevitably went on to discuss the ‘servile uprisings’.
Lady Helena commented on how she had lost a dozen slaves, four of which now
approached death on crosses along The Apian Way. She recalled how she had had
her remaining slaves flogged into submission, but still didn’t feel as
comfortable as she once had.
Grabius and Crassus confirmed they had both lost human property during the
troubles. Crassus stated the wars had cost him some ten percent of his wealth
which still left him obscenely rich. This he recounted as he fondled the breasts
of the nubile Ethiopian slave girl who was serving wine. She did not understand
the conversation taking place, but stood like a dumb animal until her superior
had finished feeling her.
Finally the guest of honour, Julia, spoke up; ‘I didn’t really follow the
troubles,’ she uttered. ‘I myself didn’t lose any property. The bandits came to
my palace once but the slaves joined with my guards to fight them off.’
‘Didn’t one of your kitchen staff lose an arm Great Lady?’ enquired Grabius.
‘Yes indeed,’ she replied as a Syrian slave fed her a grape, ‘actually he fought
so ardently I decided to give him his freedom. And yet he begged me not to let
‘So did you keep him Ma’am?’ asked Crassus.
‘I did, but a one armed dish washer is no good, so I had him sent to my
‘Let’s hope he doesn’t mind getting his hand dirty,’ joked Helena bringing
laughter from the privileged guests.
Smiling sweetly; Julia spat the skin from her grape onto the floor. Immediately
the Syrian stooped to lap up the waste before crawling from view. It was a
common task for the slave but the thought of eating something which had just
been in the most desirable mouth known to man caused him to tremble with
‘It’s one of the mysteries of Rome,’ declared Perusass, ‘Your slaves seem to be
so grateful to be such.’
‘Yes I know’ replied The Lady Julia allowing the Ethiopian to replenish her
goblet ‘I hardly need to have them whipped.’
‘Yet you do Great Lady,’ interjected Crassus, ‘I’ve witnessed near orgies of
floggings in Your palace.’
‘But of course,’ laughed the delectable blonde, ‘I’ll have a slave whipped for
the slightest mistake, to improve it. And then of course I’ll have them flogged
purely for the spectacle.’
‘Oh yes,’ smiled Helena, ‘I hear you enjoy the entertainment of a whipping.’
‘Certainly,’ asserted Julia, I love the way their faces contort, and their
screams are most amusing.’
‘Forgive me Your Magnificence,’ suggested Grabius, ‘but I’m sure many a free man
would take a leathering if they thought it would amuse one as fine as You!’
‘Mmm, and they have done.’
The assembled group of nobles smiled at the delicious look on the lady’s face
and the certain knowledge that her words were true.
‘But,’ asked Crassus changing the subject, ‘what is to become of this wretch
Perusass’s brow furrowed, ‘Oh I wish I knew. His three lieutenants are waiting
execution; perhaps we should let him join them.’
‘No,’ insisted Helena, ‘I agree with you Perusass, he should be broken to a dog
‘But how?’ asked their host, ‘the man is unbreakable! I’ve never seen such
spirit in any man; let alone a slave!’
‘Give him to me!’ stated Julia in a voice which commanded to be obeyed.
‘But Great Lady,’ obsequed the senator, ‘I couldn’t risk anything happening to
‘Arrange it!’ commanded the beauty, ‘arrange it by Saturday!’
‘If you insist Your Ladyship,’ replied her host, still a little worried.
The evening continued pleasantly. Perasass had a couple of slaves flogged for
the amusement of his guests, before gifting the beaten Ethiopian to The Lady
Julia as a token of his appreciation. Julia had the girl perform delectable
cunnilingus on her during the litter ride home, before having her submitted to
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