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24 | Mid-June 50 CE | Slave | Body slave | Bisexual | Wanted | Freida Pinto





Soft-spoken and pleasant, as is becoming of her status as a body slave. She weighs her words and chooses her posture carefully, spontaneity long abandoned in favour of good slave behavior. Clio does not smile that much anymore, barring when in the presence of her domina – she must always appear content when with Annia Comna. Previous circumstances have made her guarded and pessimistic, which is often mistaken for haughtiness, but it suits Clio just as well, for she does not want to give her trust too easily to those who might break it.

She tries, however, to be kind to all she meets, and feigns interest in their doings and families for the sake of peacekeeping and a good reputation. Clio isn’t the type to engage in gossip, although she is not above a starting a rumour or two if the target would cause inconvenience for her domina or household. She neither forgives nor forgets those who have wronged her, and often comes up with many revenge plots – some more feasible than others – against those who wronged her whilst trying on the newest fabrics and bangles for her domina’s pleasure. Revenge requires patience, and Clio has it in spades behind her placid exterior.

Reasonably intelligent and just curious enough, Clio might make a splendid messenger if her domina were so inclined. When not engaged in some task, she enjoys hearing or reading about the gods and heroes of old, watching the gladiators train at the ludus and perusing the goldsmiths’ stalls when allowed to go outside.



Of average height at 158 cm, Clio is a slender woman of dark complexion whose clothes are richer than many plebeians’, thanks to her domina’s penchant for displays of wealth. Her long, nearly black hair frames her prominent cheekbones, and her brown eyes are brought out by black eyeliner in the Egyptian style which her domina seems to find so pleasing on her, enhancing Clio’s exotic look. Her skin has a golden brown tone owing to her parentage, and provides a measure of protection against the unforgiving Roman sun when she is out and about.



Father: Masinissa, slave

Mother: Shirat, slave

Siblings: Adrastos (brother, 22), Myron (brother, 19), Zenais (sister, 19)

Spouse: N/A

Children: N/A

Extended family: N/A

Other: Owned by Annia Comna



[Childhood: 50 – 66 CE]

Like so many other slaves, Clio was verna, a slave born into their master’s house. The child of an enslaved mother is also a slave, and Clio’s first owner – a greedy little Bithynian Greek with elephant ears and mousy brown hair – took advantage of this to enlarge his household. Her parents, a Numidian and a Syrian, both fruit pickers in their master’s estate, provided their lord with four healthy new slaves in total, Clio being the oldest of them.

As soon as she was able to follow instructions, Clio was put to work: fetching water for the slaves at the plantations, feeding the chickens and collecting their eggs, stirring huge pots in the kitchens, and all other sorts of domestic errands. It was a reasonably easy life, as far as slaves are concerned. She was taught the rudiments of reading and writing in Greek by her little mistress, her master’s daughter of the same age, and the two often played in the big house, sometimes joined by one or more of Clio’s siblings, or other slave children.

She grew older, taller, and prettier. And one day, not long after her 12th birthday, her master sent for her, and he might as well have had gold coins for eyes: Clio was to be sold to Origenes, an ageing Macedonian merchant with a taste for exotic young things. Two days later, she was on her way to her new master, alternating between tearing up at the thought of her family and throwing up her guts at each mighty wave that rocked the infernal boat she was travelling on.  

Life in Macedonia was as expected. During the day, she kept the hearths in the kitchens fired up; at night, she was to quench the fire in her master’s loins. Sometimes she had to do it on her own, and sometimes the Macedonian would be more entertained by commanding a few of his slaves to fornicate. Not that Clio had a choice in the matter, but she found it a deal more pleasant when her partner for the night was also a female: softer skin, gentler caresses, lower stamina and not feeling like she was a nail to be hammered into nonstop. The domina, much younger than her husband, decided to make Clio her personal slave – so she would learn all the tricks and rituals of feminine beauty and grace, and hopefully stay tempting enough to keep Origenes’ interest in bed and away from the mistress’s own.


[Adolescence: 66 – 69 CE]

Four years went by in this manner. Clio had found her place in the household and made her peace with it, and would have been perfectly content to let the days roll by as they had. But then Origenes departed on a business trip to Rome – and thank the gods he did not require Clio’s company, the domina made too much of a fuss for him to even consider it -, and came back months later with a surprise in tow. Philippos, the oldest son by the master’s first wife, whose name Clio had only heard a handful of times during her time in Macedonia, mentioned every once in a while when one of Origenes’ suppliers came by and they mentioned selling their wares in Rome. Philippos, who had piercing eyes and strong arms and was back from a long stay in the city of the Caesars, having laid the foundations to a filial of Origenes’ premium flax fibre business. He took Clio’s breath away.

Luckily for her, it was mutual. Just stolen moments at first, when their paths met inside the house. They soon grew bolder, and a careless tryst in the kitchens was all it took for the domina to find out about the affair. It did not please her, for who knew what might happen if Origenes were to find out? Clio would have tasted the whip for the first time that night were it not for the questions the welts on her bronze skin would provoke. So they agreed to put an end to it, to pretend as if they were nothing more than master and slave, so as not to invite the ire of the patriarch. It helped that father and son spent quite some time back and forth between Dyrrachium and Rome. Two more years passed in this manner, and a plan began to take form in Clio’s head.


[Adulthood: 69 – 72 CE]

It was quite simple, really. It happened two months into Origenes and Philippos’ latest homecoming. All Clio had to do was poison the wine she served her master, dazed as he still was in post-coital bliss. How lucky of him, to die in his own bed. After making sure neither Origenes’ heart was pumping nor his lungs labouring, Clio climbed on top of him once more and screamed for her life. What a shame! Old men dying of heart attacks during sex was uncommon, but not unheard of. And poor Clio, what a ghastly situation!

Philippos had no idea, of course. Neither did the domina, It must remain so, a secret Clio would take to the underworld when her time came. She did not want the family to be dishonoured and cursed; they had been kind to her, and the domina had taught her so much. The household mourned, and Clio, keeping up her pretense, joined them. Before long, daily life resumed and Philippos assumed the responsibilities of head of the family. Their encounters resumed, this time with the domina turning a blind eye to it.

When the business next took Philippos to Rome, Clio accompanied him – this time, to no protest from the domina. Clio was in awe of this great metropolis: filthy, noisy, confusing, enormous, wondrous. People from all corners of the empire congregated here, and along with them their habits, their culture, their languages. Latin felt rough and foreign on Clio’s tongue, but she thought it wise to learn it to the best of her ability; if the business venture went well, she might (she hoped to) stay in Rome longer than she’d initially thought.

Her days were spent keeping house, her nights keeping Philippos company. It was endearing how he always slept with an arm under his pillow, even if the other arm circled her waist. Clio enjoyed watching him as he slept, and allowed herself to daydream of dangerous things – of freedom, a flammeum, a little child with her eyes and Philippos’ nose taking their first careful steps… Did she dare bring it up to him? She might, when the time was right.

The time was never right lately. Philippos seemed to be in bad health; he had lost weight and slept fitfully, when he did sleep. He had been coming home later and later, claiming meetings with stubborn patrons and partners. He was on edge, picking fights with her, with the other slaves, with his employees. Clio wondered if he had been cursed, and which divinity would be best to resolve the situation. She no longer dared to daydream.

When he finally summoned the courage to tell her, it was a shock. Gambling. Gambling! The whole business squandered away, mindboggling sums owed to creditors, not even enough money left to buy passage back to Dyrrachium. The sleepless nights and unhappy-looking visitors made perfect sense now. And as the ultimate insult, Clio was to be sold on a Roman auction block so Philippos could use the profit to at least return home and escape the mounting debt. A week later, when he handed her off to the slave trader in exchange for dirty coin, the purple bruises in her arms and torso were nearly gone; he had not taken kindly to being spit on after coming clean. Clio was past caring, anyway. She hoped someone would buy her quickly – the sooner she was able to go back into the routine of a personal slave, the better. And she would definitely not make the same mistake twice.

Fortuna smiled down on her. An exotic, competent body slave fluent in Greek and with a reasonable command of Latin was an appropriate companion for up-and-coming Roman matrons of respectable background, and Clio found herself the newly-acquired property of Annia Comna.


[The present: 72 – 74 CE]

Life is simple and easy. All Clio has to do is to keep her domina happy, and that is no particularly complicated task. Be obedient, good-natured, discreet and loyal, attend to domina’s every need, and allow Annia to use her as a doll to dress up and decorate with fine jewellery. Clio feels valued and appreciated, and for a slave, that’s the best lot in life possible. Thoughts of freedom are for foolish girls, and Clio is no longer one. She will stick faithfully by her domina’s side, and give Annia no reason to ever get rid of her.



Liv | GMT+1 | PM/DM (Liv#5452)





Edited by Liv
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