A Handmaiden’s Triumph
A Handmaiden’s Triumph
A collaborative work by Slaves Paul and Nylonsniff
The above image (A Handmaiden, by FD Millet) is free of known copyright restrictions.
Following the recent explosive success of the celebrated Professor Cartwright’s ‘A Slave’s Tale’, translated from ‘Servus Narrat’, another priceless artefact of Gynarchy history has been unearthed and translated, entitled ‘A Handmaiden’s Triumph’ (‘Exaltationis est Ancilla’).
This smaller record, found on the entombed body of its writer, Mistress Julia, from the ancient Gynarchy town of Slave Oris (‘Slave Toil’ in Latin), was to be the much awaited sequel in this ancient record of slavery!
Mistress Julia was herself a slave! It seems hard to believe in today’s modern Gynarchy that any woman could be considered anything less than a Goddess! However her celebrated journals, that so accurately recorded and portrayed life in the ancient Gynarchy, serve as a potent reminder of who always wins through in the end – WOMEN!
As Professor Cartwright writes in her explanatory footnote:
It should be noted that, although the very notion of female slavery seems archaic, and even preposterous, we must consider that this record dates back over 1,750 years! Miss Julia was of foreign descent, and was brought to the Gynarchy as a Handmaiden, and not a slave in the truest sense of the word. Attitudes were somewhat different back then. Miss Julia was buried with the second most accurate and informative diary it has ever been my privilege to translate. It tells of early life in the Gynarchy, and how women have always triumphed over oppression and unfairness!….
So, to enjoy a tale of female emancipation, read on…
Long ago, in an ancient, mountainous Germanic town, the local inhabitants were going about their daily business, toiling in the fields and farms.
The town was small and relatively prosperous. By the modern standards of the ever-growing Gynarchy Empire, however, this outsider colony was considered to be a primitive, low-life barbarian society! Men wrote the laws, and women were second class citizens that could be traded, or bought, or sold! Furthermore, it was always the man’s decision as to marriage; and to whom!
Women were, in general, very poorly treated in this so called ‘civilisation’. Sometimes, however, things did work out well. Miss Julia was besotted with her manly idol, Paulus. Paulus was a hard-working farmer and part-time soldier in the local, rag-tag yeomanry. Julia had eyes only for him, and would nightly pray that he would reciprocate! It was her only dream to be married to so pure a man!
All worked well, as the false Barbarian gods smiled on Miss Julia’s humble wish. Paulus eventually proposed marriage to the pretty young woman and all seemed happy and good. Miss Julia’s already glowing face and shoulder-length, golden locks seemed to glow more brightly now as if another sun had been born from her face! The feeling of elation knew no satiety!
Preparations for the couple’s happy marriage were well under way. Paulus was overtly happy about the arrangements. He only had one problem; he was secretly in love with another! The other woman was none other than the daughter of Paulus’s army commander! As Paulus wanted promotion, and a greater wage, he thought it best to inform Miss Julia that he was actually to be betrothed to another! This evil male’s revelation shattered the poor girl’s lifelong dream! Miss Julia was a nervous wreck for many months afterwards!
Paulus the ungrateful (as he was now known by Miss Julia) soon married Mistress Antonia. Paulus was indeed promoted through the ranks and received a much higher wage as a result. He now decided that he would sell his land and become a full time soldier. This would mean that he would no longer have to see his formerly beloved Miss Julia. It also meant that the jilted Miss Julia was made destitute as she was a full time farmhand on his land! Miss Julia rightfully and truly despised Paulus from the very bottom of her soul! Although thoughts of revenge were uppermost in her consciousness, she never imagined that her dead passions would ever be avenged!
Months later a huge battle ensued between the glorious, mixed-sex, Gynarchy legions and the ill-equipped, rudimentary, and exclusively male forces of the Germanic outsider town. The highly trained Gynarchy troops took little time to force the primitives into a full-blown, shameful retreat! The elders of the town surrendered unconditionally in an attempt to save lives and beg for mercy! The captured male soldiers were rounded up and disarmed, before being secured in some kind of farm building under guard.
The Gynarchy’s male and female soldiers then went about rounding up all of the town’s womenfolk! To their utter surprise they were treated quite well by the conquering forces. They were ushered onto transportation carts and huddled together for warmth. The defeated men, by way of contrast, were lead out of the farm building and ordered to remove all of their upper garments and any other items they might have had in their possession. They were, however, mercifully permitted to retain their footwear for the arduous march that lay ahead of them!
This discarded, male clothing was quickly gathered up and given to the captured women shivering in the cold winter air of their open transportation carts. The captured men were then also herded together and a large centurion began to hammer on metal bracelets to the captives’ wrists. These were in turn linked, by another centurion, to a connecting chain. Now the long, perilous procession back to the triumphant Gynarchy Empire can begin!
On a chilly day in February, the streets of the ancient Gynarchy town of Barbaria are packed with cheering crowds welcoming home yet another victorious regiment from battle. Victory in far-off Germania! Rows and columns of both male and female soldiers, with spears on their shoulders, marching in lockstep, are interspersed with carts carrying triumphant, female officers, standing and waving to the crowds, soaking up the cheers and applause of the female populace.
After many carts, and hundreds of victorious male and female footsoldiers have passed, we begin to see the prisoners. First comes a flatbed cart. In the back of the cart is a despondent looking group of women reclining on a bed of cloth and animal skins, huddled together for warmth. Germanic women, some of them quite attractive. Perhaps as many as two dozen of them are in the first cart. But the women keep their heads down for the most part, and are not really that interesting to see.
The real interest is their male countrymen who follow the cart in chains and on foot. Behind the cart are twenty or so men, each shackled to a single long chain that trails from the back of the cart. They stagger along, clearly exhausted, panting great puffs of vapour into the chill air.
Immediately behind them comes the next flatbed cart with a similar cargo, chain, and shuffling followers. Standing in the front of the second cart is a Gynarchy male soldier, long whip coiled in his hoary hand. There is clear evidence that he has been using the whip too, because each of the male captives is stripped to the waist in spite of the frigid weather, and all of the male prisoners display marks of the whip on their naked backs, shoulders, ribs and arms. None of the female captives are walking; or showing signs of the whip!
Some of the carts are drawn by horses; some by oxen; and others by male prisoners. Many of these carts carrying the captive females pass by, but in one of them was the scorned and very attractive Miss Julia, former villager of Germania. As her cart makes its rickety way through the streets of the Gynarchy town, she doesn't look around. She still has eyes only for Paulus, chained behind her cart – he whom she had once loved; he to whom she had given her precious maidenhood; he who had subsequently rejected her for another.
But they are no longer loving eyes! Julia now despises Paulus beyond all bounds, and she had rejoiced each time the vanquisher’s whip had sought out his captive flesh during the long journey from Germania.
She has been told that, as a female, she will be treated humanely in the Gynarchy. Perhaps not quite as well as a true, Gynarchy-born woman, but she could never be mistreated. She will probably be given a job to do – perhaps as a cook; perhaps as an overseer in a stinking slave-galley; some task that a Gynarchian woman would not want to do herself. Eventually, if she worked hard and ‘kept her nose clean’, she would win citizenship and first-class status, putting her on a par with native-born, Gynarchy women!
For Paulus, on the other hand, there will only be slavery. Julia hopes that it will be of the lowest form – foot-slavery. She closes her eyes and dreams of a day when Paulus is on his knees, her toes are in his mouth, and she barks the command, "Whip him!" Nobody has lower regard for a Germanian male slave than a Germanian woman now does. Why, the cowards surrendered! They should have fought to the last man to preserve her freedom!
Eventually the motley procession reaches the centre of the market town. The Womenfolk are ordered to disembark the carts and observe the male slaves being stripped of their remaining clothing and being forced to stand in the bitterly cold winds! Miss Julia had never seen the fully naked body of Paulus before, even though they were formerly betrothed to one another! It was a strange experience for her to behold. She felt dominant and triumphant to be able to revel in his utter, naked humiliation. No clothes, and no rank, for this former soldier of the conquered village army!
Once all of the men were disrobed, the women were ushered into the relative warmth of the town hall, whilst the men remained shivering in silent ranks. A very large and brutish woman overseer emerges from one of the narrow alleyways. She is a veritable giantess! Her tree-trunk-like legs are bound in thin, strappy leather that binds tightly all the way down to her sandal-clad feet. Her upper torso is clad in chamois leather, and some kind of armour-like breastplate bearing the emblem of her regiment! Her fierce eyes stare out over her new quarry through the massive mop of brown, matted curls that adorn her precious, female head!
She eyed the men slowly up and down with a mockingly disapproving gaze! This was the final insult to Paulus! He was a soldier, and should not be treated in this way; he was a truly broken man!
The newly enslaved males were issued with a loose fitting, cotton, kilt-like garment to ‘hide their male shame’ as the overseer tactfully put it! The men were then ordered into size, and made to shuffle forwards into a wooden booth. Moments later screams of pain could be heard! Paulus was mercifully distant at this stage. All too soon however he was the unwilling next-in-line member of the forlorn, terror-ridden queue of dishevelled males!
The door opened and he was thrust inside. He was now face to face with the dreaded overseer woman! She smiled and looked him up and down:
‘Hold out your hands, slave!’
His hands were examined for signs of callouses; was he a working man or an intellectual type? Now he was prodded and probed by the giantess for muscular strength. His leg (each in turn) was lifted from the ground as if he were some common carthorse, and bent inwards towards his thigh! A few sharp jabs with a pointed stick later and the former soldier’s lower limbs were also examined! Then she suddenly groped at his male area for some reason before letting out a squeal of delight!
‘So, what were you before you were a slave-boy?’
Paulus was enraged by this lack of respect! He shouted aloud, and proudly:
‘I AM A SOLDIER!’
‘Well, you were a soldier and now you are a…… yes, a foot-slave! Brand him ‘FS-119400!’
Paulus was dragged outside to be branded. That is what all of the screaming was about!
He was furious about being made a foot-slave! Only three of the motley-looking, male slaves were selected as pathetic, lowly foot-slaves that day! All of the others were chosen as relatively respectable farm slaves and mill workers!
Miss Julia was also being prepared for her new life at this stage. Her clothes were removed and she and all of the other formerly free women were issued with leather skirts and thin strappy leather coverings to hide their female modesty around the torso! This had the effect of making the thinner and more shapely built, female prisoners look very attractive.
The same could not, however, be said for their larger framed counterparts! They looked quite comic, with so little to cover their precious, female flesh. The other thing that was most humiliating for the new female captives was the fact that they had been made to go barefoot! No sandals would be permitted for any female slaves it would seem! Only the men were permitted to retain footwear as they would doubtless be undertaking hard labours under the female-overseer whip!
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The next day saw the chaotic and frantic activity of organising slaves (male and female) into groups for their prospective female owners to choose! Paulus, or ‘FS-119400’ as he was now known, was ushered into the relatively small group of male foot-slaves. Miss Julia was corralled into the section marked “Full upper body slaves”. This was for female Handmaidens that had been chosen for their beauty and femininity, it would be their job to serve their female masters in their opulent homes and palaces throughout the Gynarchy. Mistress Messalina the most respected and revered slave-owner was herself attending today’s slave auction! It was every self-respecting slave’s most potent wish to be enslaved to this powerful woman. Her stunningly attractive face and swaying auburn locks really made her stand out in the bright cold light of that early, Gynarchy morn.
For the second time in her life, Mistress Julia’s prayers were answered! She was indeed chosen to serve in the prestigious household of the most respected and revered Mistress Messalina! Although Miss Julia was elated with her new position, she was somewhat fascinated with the current whereabouts of slave Paulus! She was stunned and disappointed when the most infamous and feared Mistress Janetus, whose cruel reputation had spread throughout the far corners of the Gynarchy Empire and beyond, did not choose Paulus for one of her many slave vineyards. It would have been an almost certain death sentence for Paulus; a fitting end for him one might think?
Sadly, Mistress Messalina did not seem to require a foot-slave to add to her menagerie either! Miss Julia simply could not bear not knowing what fate had ordained for the pathetic and broken slave Paulus. She burst out crying in a most inconsolable fashion that was most unbecoming in any young lady!
Mistress Messalina enquired as to the young Handmaiden’s distress:
‘What is it, my dear? I can assure you most earnestly that I am a kind Mistress to all of my Female Handmaidens. What troubles you so?’
‘Begging your pardon, most respected Mistress, but thy humble Handmaiden, it seems, will not be granted the privilege of seeing the utter humiliation of that vile, lecherous creature over there, most respected Madam!’
Julia was pointing towards slave Paulus.
‘Hath this wretch maligned you in the past, my dear?’ enquired a curious Messalina.
‘He most assuredly hath, my lady! He and I were once betrothed, but he was unfaithful to me and chose another. This was to be my undoing, as I have no other means of support, until, of course, fate smiled upon my lonely sole and steered me toward your powerful arms, most respected Mistress, if it pleases you Ma’am?’
Mistress Messalina was indeed tickled by this tale of young-womanly woe. How could a mere man cause a beautiful, young woman so much ill-feeling?
‘My dear, I have no need for a personal footslave. I have an embondaged former gladiatorial champion who is happy to serve me in that area, not that he gets a choice in the matter! HA! However, as it seems to bother you so, I will gladly purchase this vile vagabond of thy heart to serve in my household!’
The beaming smile on Miss Julia’s face was quite something to behold! Moments later Paulus was being secured to the back of the cart that was due to transport the new purchases to the opulent household of Mistress Messalina. Julia revelled in the fact that she was seated in the back of the cart, whilst Paulus had to stumble behind.
One last task was required, however. The unenviable task of tattooing the new owner’s mark onto the pale, white, feminine flesh of Miss Julia! This was an unavoidable part of slave ownership, but at least it would be done under some herbal pain relief!
Back at Messalina’s opulent palace the male slaves were being set their tasks by the far superior Handmaidens! Miss Julia was shown to her quarters and allowed to rest and wear off the effects of the pain killing medication. Slave Paulus however was already being put to good use as the new household foot-slave! All of the Handmaidens were required to have their feet inspected before being allowed to enter the palatial, marble-clad, interior chamber of Mistress Messalina. In the past this would have been the lowly task of the Handmaiden herself. She would have to check the soles of her own feet before entering the chamber. If they were to be found dirty, a bowl of water and a rag on a stick were provided for them to use.
All of that was swiftly done away with, however, once Slave Paulus arrived. He was hastily chained to the wall outside the gilt doors of the secretive, feminine chamber by means of a rusty looking, iron hoop connected to a chain that, in-turn, was connected firmly to the now permanent iron hoop encircling his neck! It was now his job to beg the female servitors for permission to lick clean the soles of their dusty, dirty, bare feet before allowing them access to the forbidden chamber!
That first day of foot-servitude for Slave Paulus was indeed quite arduous; he had no idea just how many Handmaidens Mistress Messalina owned! He was gamefully employed by the cruel vixens. They literally despised the new slave, and made sure that their pretty little feet were as dirty as possible! Some of them would literally shuffle along the servants’ quarters to pick up as much dirt as possible!
Miss Julia, meanwhile, was busy being instructed in her new duties by the Head Handmaiden. She was eager to have her feet licked by pathetic Paulus, but was not due to be admitted to the mistress Messalina’s inner sanctum until the following day. In the meantime, she desperately wanted to finger the whip wounds and tattoo marks on Paulus’s aching back while they were still painful and fresh, as they would doubtless be healing over soon! She wanted revenge, and she was going to get it!
The next day her moment had finally come, and she could barely contain herself! She had been unable to sleep or rest on that first night in the Handmaidens’ quarters in the opulent and expansive grounds of Messalina’s palace; her every waking moment was devoted to plotting her erstwhile lover’s utter downfall and humiliation. HE MUST BE MADE TO SUFFER FOR MY HUMILIATION!
She thus spent the night before her induction into the Mistress Messalina’s inner chamber pacing up and down in order to get her feet nice and dirty! Mud, dust, oil anything that would stain her soles an un-healthy shade of dirty black!
The morning came round at last. Miss Julia shuffled deliberately heavily in order to pick up any additional foot dirt on her way to the Mistress’s house far from the Handmaidens’ compound. Finally, she approached her quarry.
This was quite a shock for poor old Paulus; he had no idea that Julia was to be one of the Mistress’s prized handmaidens! He stammered in shock, before remembering his duties. He looked forlornly downwards at Julia’s feet. The embarrassment of what was about to come filled his very soul!
‘Please, oh powerful Goddess Handmaiden-Mistress, may this humble foot-serf have the privilege of licking clean the soles of your precious, bare feet, most respected Mistress, if it is so pleasing to you?’.
Miss Julia stood perilously close by, and sneered down at him. This was the moment that she had been waiting for!
Instead of turning away to hold on to the golden handle to steady herself as she raised her bare soles to the prisoner for licking, she stormed off into the secret chamber!
‘NO Mistress! DON’T! I pray thee…’
Too late! Mistress Messalina was at first delighted to see her new Handmaiden entering the chamber. She was drawn to her natural feminine beauty. Messalina could not wait to show off her latest acquisition of the newly enslaved barbarian girl to all of her stately friends in the upcoming ‘Feast of Femina’. But, as she looked again, her face tuned to anger; in the wake of Miss Julia was a set of dirty, blackened footprints on the plush, marble floor of the palace. What’s more, the girl was worsening the offence by deliberately pressing her pretty toes into the floor!
‘HALT! What is the meaning of this, Handmaiden? Have you no respect? GUARDS! GUARDS!’
The Guards stepped forward and seized Miss Julia violently (they were female Centurions so a small amount of violence was allowed).
‘Have you no respect for me, I said! I want an answer, slave girl! Why are your filthy feet dirtying my graceful floors?’
‘I truly beg thy pardon, most powerful and respected Mistress Messalina! Thy humble foot-slave simply cast open the door and beckoned me in, mumbling clean enough for her oh great Goddess! Please forgive thy innocent servant, so she may serve you anew!’
So that was her revenge – blasphemy and lies! Truly, hell hath no fury like a young woman scorned!
Mistress Messalina went insane with rage!
‘Unchain that male fool of a foot-slave and drag him out to the courtyard, Centurions!... Come Brutus!’ she shouted to the olive-skinned, appropriately brutish-looking bodyguard and former gladiatorial champion, who silently grinned in response to his magnificent Mistress’s manic rage!
Paulus was dragged kicking and screaming by the female Centurions to the outside whipping post. His arms and legs were lashed to the coarse, wooden frame. Miss Julia was at last satisfied, she saw her former lover bound and tethered semi-naked for the first time, swaying in the breeze and helplessly awaiting a sound beating in full view of dozens of women who were all baying for his pain, herself included!
Her plan had worked well!
Brutus unleashed his dreaded, cutting, punishment lash. It was a simple leather lash that would swing through the air producing the all too familiar cutting, cracking, swoosh sound! All that was needed now was the actual sentence!
‘Give him two dozen harsh lashes Brutus, I want to hear screams, lest you replace him on the whipping-post! Understand?’
Brutus nodded and grinned again silently!
Swoosh Crack - 1…
Swoosh Crack - 2…
On completion of Paulus’s first, sound whipping, he was placed in the charge of Miss Julia for ‘re-education’. It was her job to lock Paulus in his tight-fitting cage every night after work. She would voluntarily stay for hours past her bedtime to give him further ‘training’. He would nightly be required to lick the soles of her precious feet clean. She would then repay his efforts by spitting on him, and jabbing hard at his unprotected whip wounds with a sharpened stick that she would first twist in between her toes in order to cover it in her sticky toe-grease and toejam (before they had been licked clean of course).
Miss Julia would further encourage her foot-slave charge towards continual improvement by nightly holding the heavy, iron, face-mask in full view of his own caged face! Mistress Messalina gave it to her newly appointed ‘Head Handmaiden’ as a reward for her loyal duties to her household! On completion of each night’s extra-curricular training session, Miss Julia would present the mask for kissing by the caged foot-fool. The mask was weighted with heavy chains and lead bands that formed sad looking, downcast lips and eye-slits. Paulus would be required to kiss the mask goodnight, before Miss Julia would ominously hang it once again over his cage to ‘watch over’ his dreams that night. Whenever she departed she would turn to him as she blew out the torch, and threateningly say:
‘Sleep well, slave! Perhaps I will have thy mask riveted to thine ugly countenance on the morrow! HA!’
To date, Miss Julia has not had cause to fit her foot-slave with the dreaded iron face-mask. The day she chooses to fit it however, he will have no say in the matter. His fate was now in her pretty, feminine hands! Paulus finally realised that she truly owned him body and soul! Miss Julia got her revenge it would seem.
Final footnote by Professor Cartwright:
It would seem, dear reader, that Miss Julia is something of an historic figure in so many ways. Barely a year later, the Gynarchy turned all its female slaves and Handmaidens free. Males were to be the only slaves from now on. Some people still conjecture that Miss Julia was the mysterious figure who went on to become the great Empress Julia Caesar, leading the Gynarchy into its golden era! But, whoever she was, we owe her a huge debt of gratitude for showing how the female can always extract glorious victory from the jaws of abject, male defeat!
