Publius Quinctilius Varus

I didn't know it at the time, but I had apparently been introduced to an important historical figure. The Roman commander who led several legions in their campaigns against the Germanic Tribes. At this point in time, he was just a distinguished looking man with white hair and a golden plate of armour on his chest. I was introduced to him with some description, though looking me up and down, he clearly wasn't impressed by me.

What was going on? Why was I being introduced to the commander? Did they think I was a goddess? That was a point actually. If they'd seen me suddenly appear in a burst of light, then it made sense for them to think I was something supernatural. Really wished I could understand what they were saying though.

The commander approached me, causing me to bristle with fear. He was holding a small paper knife and I was terrified he would just kill me then and there. Instead, he pricked me just below the neck, allowing a small drop of my red blood to drip down my chest. There was a release of tension in the air as the group of men laughed. Were they expecting me to be invincible, or was I meant to have a God's golden blood? In any case, whatever kind of special treatment my sudden materialisation into their timeline had granted me, had now ended, because the commander immediately grabbed my shirt and tore it down, revealing my nude bra underneath. I almost screamed but managed to hold my nerve as he inspected me further. I doubted any sudden moves or sounds would help me.

Despite his previously bored exterior, the commander seemed fascinated by my one piece of distinctly modern clothing. Bra-cups wouldn't be a thing for another several centuries. Again he made some comments to the men, and I noticed one man, I assumed his personal slave, taking down notes on a piece of parchment. He then barked an order, and I was made to turn around for him. My face grew increasingly red as I saw just how many men had come to enjoy the show. Goddess or woman, they were clearly keen to see this particular female undressed. I felt the commander pinching and probing at my bra's clasp, and to his credit he didn't just cut it with his knife. Examining it closely, he delicately undid the clasp, causing my bra to fall to the floor.

The soldiers laughed as I quickly covered my breasts. I hated being exhibited in such a distressing way, but it wasn't like I could just leave. I was at the total mercy of these men. The commander turned me around again to face him, and pulled my arms apart so my breasts were on full display. I cringed at his gaze. My breasts were nice, fairly robust and well-placed, but they were strictly for my eyes and a sexual partner's eyes only, not a band of glorified marauders. I shut my eyes, hoping this was all a dream, but I already the commander was inspecting my jeans.

He seemed fascinated by the material, and again made comments to his slave to note down. Then he started to tug them down, causing me to wince in pain as they were tight and still buttoned up. Again there was some surprise in the room at my pink pair of cotton panties once he'd managed to pull my pants down to my knees. He plucked at them to determine what they were, then slid them down more lustfully. Clearly both he and the crowd were keen to see this foreign woman's lower half.

Despite myself, I was glad I didn't disappoint. There was a general murmur in the room upon seeing my behind, and the commander looked pleased upon seeing my completely bare sex. I generally liked having it smooth down there anyway, and apparently so did he. Did Ancient Roman women shave? You never saw pubic hair on statues, so probably? I wasn't keen to see what their technique was though. I doubted that it involved hair-removal cream. The commander's hands slid tremulously down my body, enjoying the touch of my smooth pale skin before finally reaching my slit, which caused me to flutter and tremble almost uncontrollably. He grinned at this reaction.

I cursed my body for betraying me like this. Here I was in the most vulnerable position of my life and it was responding positively to this stranger's touch?! Unbelievable. I wanted to cry, but steeled myself. I would not let myself cry in front of these men, especially not this perverted excuse for a general. His probing hands reached between my legs, making me want to swat his hands away, but I knew better not to. He had a sword and armour, I had my jeans pulled down to my knees. I shuddered at his fat fingers feeling at my crotch, apparently searching for something.

He forced his thumb inside me and made me squirm from the discomfort and humiliation. Just as he removed it I'd decided I couldn't take it anymore, and slapped him squarely in the face. His men raised their weapons against me, but the commander just smiled a devilish-looking grin that made me cowl like an injured cat before him. Ignoring my assault on his person, the commander appeared to instruct the men. Clearly his inspection of my sex had warranted some results. Now I was on the verge of tears, realising what it was he was likely searching for. I wasn't a virgin (I was 21 and experienced) and now I feared my value to him had decreased upon this discovery. Hitting him probably hadn't helped, but at least I hadn't been such a little weakling.

Two of the soldiers grabbed me, with two of the other men ripping and pulling at my shoes and pants. I was quickly divested of my last items of clothing and dragged out of the building naked as a the day I was born. I did not scream or cry or struggle. It wasn't like any help would come, I was thousands of years from home.