Mary Ellen's Next
The studly centurion wrapped his mighty Roman arms around her waist. She
sipped herbal tea curled up on her living room sofa, clad only in her 49'ers
sleep shirt, her cat Melody purring. The part Siamese used her clawed feet to
knead Ms. Mary Ellen Hunter's lap. After a day beginning the new school year
teaching and acting as Vice Principal at President Andrew Jackson Middle School
and trying to corral a room-full of raging hormone-driven 6th grader rowdies,
Mary Ellen needed a little escape and. the tawdry romance novel helped. The
paperback's heroine proved easy to identified with. Mary Ellen imagined herself
about to melt and succumb to the fictional Roman seduction. Silly as it was she
even coquettishly tossed back her chestnut hair, privately seeing herself as a
very real part of the story.
Brilliance shattered unwinding from the first day at the school. This
was not a brilliance of thought as sometimes comes with the arrival of an
epiphany. No, this brilliance literally blinded. Her comfy nest with sofa, pet
cat, herbal tea and the escapist romance novel all vanished with the burst of
light.
Mary Ellen Hunter gasped. It was happening again. Metal plating beneath
her bare feet felt coolly synthetic. She clutched her chest. It too felt
strange. Gone was her sleep shirt, replaced by wide leather. From somewhere in
the sterile room came the voice she could never forget -the alien's: Rrnyx.
"Welcome back, human," said the unseen tinny voice.
In shock Mary Ellen sunk. The coolness as her knees touched the floor
caused a reflexive look. The leather she felt before actually consisted of two
overlapping straps, meeting as they crossed down her front. Underneath them and
closest to her skin was some sort of wooly jersey. A wide brass studded belt
girded below and under the belt a short leather skirt spread over the tops of
her thighs. The ensemble looked so ancient. Her outfit would surely win some
costume prize if she was going to a toga party had this been some wacky soiree,
which of course it wasn't.
Her body felt the same, yet more buff. Mary Ellen felt dressed like a
character from out of the book she was reading, but that story was only fiction.
Being captured, costumed and abducted by some UFO in the blink of an eyelash was
all too real.
"I seem to recall you as being more loquacious before," the words
seeming as monotone as her current surroundings. She knew the effort was futile
but her head frantically whipped around anyway, looking for some source of the
extraterrestrial's voice. Wherever Rrnyx was hiding he wasn't telling. Later she
would conclude that not seeing him was just as well. Still, a disembodied voice
was scarier than confronting the whole damn thing, and at the moment she was
definitely scared. "Regardless, this time no cloning as before. Merely you. And
as you might suspect, judging by your muscled frame and the period clothes you
now wear, you are off to a time in early Earth history: Ancient Roman history to
be specific. We wish to observe how you and you alone, react. Your people might
call this exercise Time Travel.
Oh, and don't bother sending us a postcard. It seems postal carriers
refuse to deliver here in this part of the universe. Go figure.
But by all means do enjoy...Marcia Ellena Hunteress."
For a second time Mary Ellen gasped. Her mouth gaped. Gone was the
ultra-modern spaceship room. Beyond high marble walls she heard the working out
sounds of men in an exercise yard. Voices not English, but Latin. Sounds she
understood despite knowing at the same time that what she heard came from a
language very much alive. Hardly "dead" like everything she studied had said
about Latin.
"You appear fit and ready to fight tomorrow in the arena," Manius
Sextilius said. He approved of the young warrior standing before him. Crowds
would exult at the mere sight of her. His expertise in selecting such a
succulent prize was sure to sate the public's sexual and blood lusts. He would
be heralded by one and all. Casting about to ascertain that the cold bath room
they stood in was deserted, save for echoes bouncing off the tiles and the guard
behind, he brushed crumbs from the purple hem of his toga sleeve. In the most
alluring voice he could muster he added, "But first, you shall come to me..."
Mary Ellen, or as she now knew herself to be known as, Marcia Ellena and
in possession of Amazonian power, saw her chance. The Roman beckoned by
spreading wide his flabby arms. Purple trimmed sleeves revealed arms far
different than the hunky ones depicted in the romance novel. She leapt. Grabbing
the small dagger sheathed on his belt, she spun the overweight official around.
Before he could react she and Manius Sextlius faced the startled guard.
"Step back or it's his throat," came the snarl. The angry curl of her lip
enforced her demand's immediacy. For further emphasis she tightened her grip,
pressing the blade of the dagger deeper into the folds of fat around his neck.
The Roman in her hold desperately wiggled and gurgled like a captured sow. His
wig fell askew. Scuffling sandals on the onyx floor sounded off otherwise mute
columns and marble walls. She waited just seconds as the soldier gingerly
stepped back. To the right she saw the waters of the fridgidarium - the cold
one. Along one side there appeared to be a small opening. Must be where they
filled the pool, she thought. A possible escape? It was worth a try...
Marcia Ellena Huntress shoved the once leering now hysterical Roman with
all of her might. His porcine body thudded into the guard. Conditioned though
the soldier was, simple physics meant the blubbery mass slamming into him proved
too great a force. The two plummeted backward.
Free of her hostage, Marcia Ellena ran and dove for the waters.
The narrow shaft proved to be short in length. A simple feeder tube for
the pool, it allowed just enough room for her to wriggle in. After holding her
breath and snaking her way through the tight confines of the flooded pipe Marcia
Ellena, nee Mary Ellen, crawled into a larger space. Immediately, her head broke
the surface. Oxygen, dank as it was in the subterranean canal, was preferable to
drowning or asphyxiation. A small gap of fetid air separated the canal water
from the floor bottom. Every few steps Marcia Ellena would tilt her head up and
above the canal water and suck in more live-giving air. It was still pitch
black, but at least she had something to breathe and more space. Using her hands
to probe along the craggy walls, Marcia Ellena trudged deeper into the watery
darkness.
Manius Sextilius slowly recovered as he sat on the tile. Hearing the
commotion over their own strenuous exercises, the men from outside rushed in to
see if they could assist. Scores of hairy legs surrounded their governor, still
plopped where he fell on his wide posterior. Manius Sextilius saw what none of
them could see as he murmured to himself and said, "In the second of those Punic
wars that slave Sparticus and his other slaves were crucified for their
rebellious ways...So shall this one also meet her fate." Grunting, he furiously
knocked away hands offering assistance and managed to stand on his own. "Get
men! Go to the aqueduct opening to our city. THAT is where she will try to
escape. Then bring her back to me...Hurry!"
The growing light at the end of the canal brought renewed hope. Finally
stepping free, Marcia Ellena deeply inhaled the fresh air. Above a light breeze
floated small clouds amid plenty of blue sky. It felt good to be outside, at
last. Soaked, she steadied herself along the entrance to where she had just
exited and peered down. The structure ahead she recognized as one of the famous
Roman aqueducts. She was high up and too far from the ground to jump, but a vine
led off of the aqueduct. It trailed closer to the ground. The vine looked sturdy
enough to hold her. Grabbing it, Mary Ellen tested its strength. Rock-climbing
as a hobby in real life made scaling this wall look easy.
She started down.
They were waiting. Greatly outnumbered by armored soldiers, Marcia
Ellena Hunteress had no choice but to submit. Her chest thrust out even more as
these Romans roped her elbows together behind her back. Painful as it was, they
soon arrived back at the baths.
This time, Manius Sextilius and the guard were not the only ones
present. Behind him stood many of the men from the exercise yard. Some wore
short togas. Others stood nude. All looked interested in her. The now fully
restored governor appeared pleased. He nodded to two slaves and said, "You know
what to do Orthras and Vassius."
To her eyes the two slaves did not look Roman. More like they were born
in some other land. One of them untied her elbows and wrists, while the other
fingered the leather straps joined behind her neck. Marcia Ellena yelled.
Kicking out, she hit the one called Vassius between the legs. Fluidly reaching
behind she caught the other and flipped him over her head. More yells called in
alarm. The men surrounding Manius Sextilius sprang forward. Without their
weaponry the men grappled and swung with their fists and other limbs, never
hesitating in defense of what conceivably remained of their governor's honor.
They piled on to the female and the two foreign slaves.
"Excellent. I see that you are also lactating..." Mary Ellen fought, but
the chains holding her to the marble held. She leaned back against the wall. Her
eyes didn't need to be open to know that she was stripped totally in the fight.
Opening them again, she peered down. Swollen and naked breasts with nipples much
darker and much more pronounced than her own pointed out from the rounded
mounds. Each expressed a milky substance.
Was there nothing that Rrnyx had not planned, nothing at all? Secretly
she cursed the monster's manipulation of her.
"Just so that you know, runaway slave," Manius Sextilius muttered,
"Tomorrow you will be in the arena, as I earlier said, but don't worry about the
fighting part." Officiously he turned. Using a gilded utensil, he absently poked
one leaking nipple. Mary Ellen winced as he did, and then glared back. "Instead,
Roman Justice will be served. The punishment for all runaway slaves," the tip of
his pudgy tongue tasted the milky utensil, "is crucifixion. Yours, I imagine,
will be quite extraordinary."
The chains held no matter how hard she pulled. Eyeing those standing
around she thought that should Manius Sextilius have his way this horror was
only the start. "Ah, but first according to our system of laws you, as the
condemned, must first be raped, and scourged and then who knows what else? So
let us now begin..."Manius Sextilius smiled to those to each side and stepped
closer to her. Despite pulling before, she yanked at the cuffs and shackles and
the chains holding them with renewed intensity.
Epilogue
Mary Ellen awoke with a start. Greatly relieved to be back in the safety
of her own home, she sighed into the sofa. That's when she saw her sleep shirt,
ripped apart down the front. Sweaty swollen breasts raised, mammary glands
leaking milk from dark extended nipples. Faint lines crossed. The marks
continued over most of her body. She ached. Pains jabbed everywhere. Mary Ellen
jumped up and ran for her bathroom's shower. She had to wash away all memory. On
the way she could not help but dread what else Rrynx had planned.
Fearful of what was soon to come chilled the young woman. She had not
yet been subjected to the next macabre "observation", but Mary Ellen knew that
it could happen at any time...
