Heroditus hated women. As a high-ranking Roman Centurion he was a man's man who women craved and men respected. His chiseled features and unmatchable strength made him the envy of all who knew him. He was feared for his angry temperament, and was known widely to hate anything weaker than himself. That included women. Let his superior officers lie around in their drunken debauchery, being teased and toyed with like spineless slugs by silly sirens, he had more important things on his mind than the weaker sex. He had his sights set on higher office, and women were merely needless distractions. Something Heroditus could do without. So he shunned the orgies. Because of his endless drive and determination to do everything expected of him (and more), he was often seen as a taskmaster, a hard-driver who insensitively rode over any one or anything that came in his way. Until. . . One day the order came that he was to relieve the sentries overseeing the grinding of the grain. Heroditus spat, nearly missing the messenger who brought the orders. This was a menial task for him. But with the region's recent draught, food was becoming scarce, and the powers that be had become worried of late by recent raids on the granaries. So guards were posted everywhere, often leaving unattended what Heroditus thought more important duties. It was something he'd made clear many times to anyone who would listen. Dammit!! He was to report to the grinding room to relieve the sentries posted there-- so they could be pulled in for further training in hand-to-hand combat. Standing guard over female slaves who ground the grain did little to increase one's prowess in military warfare. At least Heroditus could spend the time taunting the women. Spitting on them, cursing them, and-- if he's feeling the mood-- bring out the whip to drive them harder around their muddy little circle down in the grinding pit. In that day, there were labor duties for slaves according to gender. While men worked at many of the harder slave-labor tasks, women tended to have a lighter load. That is, the women who behaved themselves. But these "slave bitches," as Heroditus called them, were very strong, athletically built women with v-e-r-y nasty attitudes. Many of them felt daily the crack of whips across their backs. Making matters worse, all of them were left outside in the baking sun for a two-hour "resting period" around midday-- so their skin was deeply bronzed. Sure, this deliciously tanned look was frequently the topic of discussion among many of the guards and the soft-bellied rulers, but the constant heat only made the slave bitches meaner. They despised anyone in authority, and quietly breathed threats toward any Roman officer within spitting distance. They were daily roused from sleep by cold buckets of water being thrown upon them through the bars of their cells-- a very rude awakening. Throwing cold water on these sleeping women had the same effect as an impudent child poking a hornet's nest with a stick (Some of the women actually tried to beat the bucket bearers to the punch by rising early and lying in wait for them with rocks and fresh feces. It made the women howl to see them scattering.) Most of them slept naked-- the crudely made mid-thigh clothing caused them a constant, nagging itch. Wearing these clothes only made them angrier. They were then driven barefoot from their cells-- footwear of any kind was not allowed. It would only be wasted and ruined by their constantly pushing barefoot through the mud. After being driven from their cells, they were then herded through a long, dark, narrow stone hallway into the grinding pit, where they were strapped shoulders and arms to a large grinding wheel. Judging by the height of the soldiers who drove the women in, most of these slave bitches seemed to be at least 5'10" or 5'11." The stone wheel was heavy, and measured about 5 feet across and 2 and a half feet thick. Additionally, it had 6 twelve-foot long, heavy wooden spokes sticking out from it, chest level. To each spoke 5 women were strapped-- shoulder to shoulder. Once strapped to the spokes, these strong, statuesque women marched round and round in a constant circle, down in a dark, muddy pit that stank horribly. With 15-foot high crude, cold, solid stone walls forming the circle of the pit, the guards would stand above them, taunting them from the top of the wall. And occasionally the whip was drawn when it seemed the women were beginning to slow in their constant turning of the wheel. Heroditus, having relieved the two boyish, ogling guards, sat on the ledge of the wall surveying today's slave bitch team. No wonder the guards didn't want to leave. Today's group actually looked. . attractive. This was a novel feeling for him. Heroditus has never before had time in his duties to sit still and watch women work. And these women were very desirable. Their long, lean, powerful bodies grunted and groaned with their work, turning the wheel. Their wide, angry ey their videos, and Now I'm sorry I didnt get the entire set. I know I wouldnt hesitate to take his place:}