It was already evening when Tiziana arrived at Vanessa's residence. A servant opened the door for her and her entourage. As soon as she entered, Vanessa met her.

"Tiziana, it's been ages."

They embraced.

"The last time we saw each other was back at the fair, wasn't it?"

"Yes, that's right. I can hardly believe how time flies."

"Come I have so much to tell you."

Their footsteps on the marble floor echoed off the high walls as they made their way through the halls of the villa. The two reached the triclinium, settled down on the couches and excitedly told each other about the trivia of the last three months.

When Tiziana's wine glass had emptied again, she lifted it wordlessly and from a corner of the room a young slave girl strode over to top her up. Tiziana eyed her. Her brownish skin, her black hair and her deep dark eyes suggested a southern origin. The girl wore a skimpy tunic and a pair of flimsy leather sandals. Around her neck she had a small ivory pendant on a leather strap. The pendant showed the goddess Clementia.

When the glass was filled again and the girl was about to turn away from her, Tiziana grabbed her lightly by the wrist.

"Wait, girl! Put down the amphora!"

She did as she was told.

"On your knees!"

The slave girl felt the cold marble floor beneath her bare knees. Tiziana, still in a relaxed pose on the couch, gently reached under her chin and looked into the girl's face.

"What a lovely girl. What is your name, child?"

"Paula, Mistress," the girl replied in a timid voice.

"And how old are you?"

"I am nineteen years old, mistress."

"You have a beautiful pendant, my dear. Do you believe in the gods?"

"I do, mistress. My fate is in their hands."

Tiziana released her chin and smiled at her naivety. Then she dismissed her with a casual hand gesture. Vanessa had been watching everything half interested, half bored. She'd had one over the barrel anyway. She kept running circles over the rim of her wine glass with one finger.

"I wish my slaves were that graceful" Tiziana concluded, returning to the original topic of conversation.

The two continued talking well into the night until they finally went to bed. Tiziana moved into a luxurious chamber in the guest wing and undressed. Naked, she stood in front of the mirror and let her eyes wander contentedly over her flawless body. Then she lay down. But sleep did not come immediately. Rather, she was still preoccupied with that sweet girl from before. This poor young thing, which one could see at first glance had never harboured an evil thought or done anything illicit. Where had Vanessa found this little angel?

The next morning dawned and Tiziana awoke from her carefree slumber. The young woman, still naked, stepped up to one of the large windows overlooking the garden. She smiled. Below, she saw Paula sitting on a wooden bench in the sun. The girl was enjoying the warm sunshine on her soft skin and stroking a tabby cat lolling on the ground in front of her.

The sun burned down on Vanessa's vineyard. The flies buzzed. The cicadas sang tirelessly. Not a cloud. No wind.

In their thin white robes, the two aristocrats strolled along a path between the countless vines. The black earth was soft under their brown sandals.

“Tell me, Vanessa, where did you get that pretty slave girl? You know, the one who poured the wine yesterday."

"Paula? I bought her at the market a few weeks ago with some others. Why?"

"What do you want for the girl?"

"You like her, huh? The girl wasn't expensive. You're welcome to take her. Consider her a little parting gift."

The blissful feeling of consumerism flooded through Tiziana´s belly.

"Thank you. I promise I'll return the favour when the time comes."

"Don't worry about it," Vanessa retorted with a slight wave of her hand. "Oh, one more thing I wanted to ask you: Have you actually used your new toy that you bought at the fair that time?"

"No, not yet. I haven't had the occasion yet. But who knows...?"

In the afternoon, Tiziana finally said goodbye to Vanessa. Then she let herself be carried back home in her palanquin. Paula followed her. She had only found out just before she left that she had been given away. No one had told her where she was going. Nervously, the young slave faced her uncertain fate. Again and again, she reached for her little pendant to steady herself.

Finally, they reached Tiziana’s estate. A servant stepped towards them.

"Welcome back, Domina. I hope your visit has been pleasant."

"Quite my dear. Elena, be so good as to take care of young Paula here. Vanessa has been kind enough to leave her to me."

"As you wish, mistress."

Elena ordered Paula to follow her, led her through the house, fed her and finally assigned her to a pleasant little room. It contained a wardrobe, a bed, and a small table.

"Make yourself comfortable in here. Tomorrow, we'll get you some new clothes too. You'll see, Tiziana is a gracious mistress. And whenever you need anything, turn to me."

With that, Elena said goodbye and Paula was alone in her room. By now it had become dark.

The girl undressed and got ready for bed. Before lying down, she went down on her knees in front of her bed and folded her hands. Quietly she prayed:

"Gods, stand by me and watch over me. I plead with you, take away my fear."

The next morning Elena took the slave to another wing of the villa and had the words Serva Tizianae tattooed under her arm. During the painful procedure, Paula closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.

Then they instructed her to clean Tiziana’s bedroom, the cubiculum, as well as her private chamber. Paula received the cleaning utensils and the keys and entered the spacious bedroom of her mistress. It was tastefully arranged with wooden furniture, a fireplace, a tiger pelt in front of the bed and a huge mirror on the wall. Next to the mirror was a door behind which lay Tiziana's private room.

No one was there. The girl began leisurely sweeping the floor, mopping, and making the bed. Soon the cubiculum was spruced up. Then she stepped through the door into Tiziana's second room.

Paula froze. In the middle of the huge hall stood a construction of wood and iron, with a steel blade at its tip. Opposite the device was a deep red armchair.

Paula put down her cleaning kit, walked towards the machine and stepped slowly around it. The moment she saw the four iron shackles on the bascule, she realised what this contraption was for. The young slave girl got goose bumps.

"Do you like it?" sounded behind her.

Paula winced and turned on the spot. Leaning in the doorway, Tiziana stood smiling at her.

"Domina, forgive me, I... I was cleaning the room" she apologised hastily.

"But of course..." said Tiziana, looking mockingly at the cleaning utensils standing beside her in the doorway. Slowly she stepped towards the guillotine and the girl.

"Be sure to be careful when you polish the blade. It is extremely sharp, and the lever is very sensitive."

Paula nodded with her head bowed humbly. The girl still stood unmoving beside the guillotine. She held her right wrist in her left hand.

"I bought this exotic machine at a fair three months ago. It fascinated me at first sight, much like you."

"Did you..." raised Paula softly but fell silent.

Tiziana grinned.

"You wonder if the guillotine has ever been used?"

Paula swallowed and nodded without looking her mistress in the eye.

"Once. The day I bought it."

She ran her finger over the wooden lunette.

"It was a young slave girl, barely older than you..."

She stared at the lunette, looking absent-minded. A few seconds of silence passed.

"Anyway," she caught herself, "I haven't used it since. So, be a good girl and clean the place up. And don't forget to lock up again when you're done.

"Yes, Domina."

With that, Tiziana strode back out of the room and Paula was alone.

The girl set about cleaning the guillotine. She wanted to start with the blade. To do this, she took a damp rag, climbed onto the bascule, which was fixed in a horizontal position, and went up on her tiptoes to reach it. Before wiping the rag over it, she was overcome by a macabre desire to touch the steel. She ran her finger over the side of the blade.

A shiver ran through her. Her breath stopped. For a moment it was as if she saw in her mind's eye the sharp blade descending on the neck of the slave Tiziana had spoken of.

Immediately she flinched with her hand and struggled for breath.

"By all gods" she thought to herself, "why does she have this machine in her house? And what terrible thing had the poor girl done to deserve her beheading?"

She tried to pull herself together and wiped as fast as she could across the blade. Then Paula climbed down and scrubbed the bascule as well as it wooden rails. The soap burned under her fingernails. Finally, the girl wiped the dust off the lunette. She tried to run the rag over it as quickly and at the same time as carefully as she could. Paula feared for her hand every moment she worked under the sharp blade.

Finally, she was done. The girl cleaned the rest of the room as fast as she could, avoiding the sight of the guillotine. As soon as she was done, she picked up her cleaning kit, rushed out of the eerie room and locked the door.

The sight of the deadly machine haunted Paula for a long time. At night she imagined how it must feel to have her own neck under the blade. What this slave's last moments must have been like, locked in the shackles and the lunette. The wood tight around her neck, knowing that her own head was about to fall... Paula included the girl she had never known in her prayers. So she spent many sleepless nights.

Paula stood on the veranda and watered the flowers. The shade was pleasantly cool. A few drops of water beaded off the leaves and hit her legs, then ran refreshingly down to her feet. The birds that liked to settle in the large garden seemed to sing for the girl. At least, that's what she liked to imagine.

Footsteps approached. Paula turned to the door and onto the veranda stepped Tiziana. Immediately she stopped working, bowed her head and looked alternately at her mistress' face and feet.

"Slave!"

Fear flashed through the young girl. Had she forgotten something? Had she been called? Had she done everything right? Why couldn't she just fly away like one of those lovely birds?

"M... mistress... how can I serve?" she stammered.

"I am leaving for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. I would like you to look after both of my rooms in my absence."

"Yes, mistress."

"Here are the keys. Take good care of them and remember to always lock both doors."

"As you wish, mistress."

With that she went back into the house.

The pounding in Paula's chest eased and was replaced by a sense of relief.

One week passed. It was already late when Paula wanted to go to bed after a long day. Today she had cleaned Tiziana's rooms again. There was not much to do, she just wiped away the dust. Since the slave didn't know when her mistress would arrive again, she made an effort each time to leave the rooms presentable.

Just as she placed her right foot on her chair to undo the small buckle on her sandal, a chill ran through her stomach. She had left the door to Tiziana´s private room unlocked.

Paula grabbed the keys and strode through the villa. It was dark, but a full moon shone through the large windows. No one was awake anymore. A few minutes later she was standing in front of Tiziana's bedroom, immediately put the key in the lock and opened the door.

Light?

Before the girl could think better of it, she had already opened the door. Her eyes widened in shock. Directly opposite her in the bed knelt Tiziana, naked on all fours. Behind her was a young man. He was blond, muscular, with short hair. His body looked like it had been sculpted. Paula recognised him. It was Vanessa's husband. He had grabbed Tiziana's hair, which she had tied into a braid, with one hand and was using it to pull her head back while he impaled her with his phallus.

Paula's eyes met those of her mistress, who was clearly enjoying her current submissive position. It was only half a second, but it felt like an eternity. Before the slave could do or say anything, she felt herself being forcefully grabbed by the arms from behind and yanked out of the bedroom. The door slammed shut again. Elena took her by the throat, pushed her against the wall and hissed at her, "Not a word!"

Then she grabbed the young girl by the back of her neck and took her to her small room with a rapid stride. Paula let herself be led without resistance. She was trembling all over as Elena threw her into her chamber. As she pulled out the keys, she murmured quietly, barely audible:

"You shouldn't have seen that..."

Hot tears welled up in Paula's brown eyes as Elena closed the door and locked it from the outside. She sank to her knees in front of her bed, folded her hands and prayed that the gods would save her.

The morning dawned. Slowly, the red sun rose above the mountains on the horizon. The sky was on fire.

Paula looked through her small window. She could not enjoy the beauty for a moment.

What would they do with her? Surely, Domina knew she didn't know she was back already. Why hadn't anyone told her? She couldn't stand waiting any longer. If only she had answers. At least certainty about her fate. The agony was unbearable. And no matter what the girl did, she could not get rid of her worries.

The key scratched in the lock. Tiziana's personal maids Elena and Mara entered.

Wordlessly, they grabbed the girl and led her to Tiziana's private room. In the doorway, Paula's heart skipped a beat. She clutched at her pendant. The bascule of the guillotine was erected vertically, the four shackles open. A burgundy cushion lay in front of the guillotine. In the armchair opposite, Tiziana sat with her legs crossed.

Mara and Elena led Paula in front of her mistress. The slave immediately threw herself on her knees. Her breath was coming in short bursts.

Tiziana smiled and spoke:

"My dear, last night you poked your nose into matters that are none of your business. I hope you understand that I must make sure that this little secret remains between us."

"Mistress, forgive me. Please forgive me. I didn't know you were back already! I will not tell anyone. No one will know. I swear by my life!"

"I believe you. You are an honest girl. Still, a risk I cannot take."

"Please forgive me! I made a mistake! Punish me if you have to! Take my tongue if you have to! But please, please let me live!"

Tiziana enjoyed holding this little life in her hands. How the girl clung to it. Her nipples began to poke through her thin dress.

"The only thing I can grant you, slave, is a quick death..."

With that she glanced at Elena and made a barely perceptible, yet clear movement with her head. The Two Servants grabbed Paula and led her to the bascule. The tender girl, certain of her complete physical inferiority, allowed herself to be tied to the bench without resistance. She was paralysed. The hard wood pressed against her young breasts. The slave's gaze hung constantly on the cold blade. It was still as shiny as she had left it the last time.

Her hair was pinned up, only her leather strap with the pendant was still around her neck.

Elena pushed the soft strap down as deep as she could. Then the two servants lowered the bascule and closed the lunette. Mara stepped to her side and put her hand on the lever. Paula felt the cold over her soft neck. A strange tickle went through her abdomen as she felt her heartbeat pounding in her throat against the wood of the lunette.

She looked up. It was straining to raise her head enough to look into the eyes of Tiziana, who still sat casually in front of her.

The young aristocrat looked at her with her mouth slightly open and let her fingers slide over her own neck. There was something ecstatic, rapturous in her gaze.

Paula's tear-filled eyes screamed what only passed her lips in a low whisper: "Have Mercy..."

Just one word from Tiziana's mouth, a small hand gesture, and the girl's life would be saved. Her young heart would continue to beat and experience the joys and sorrows of existence in this world for many years to come. For a moment she seemed to think. Her eyebrows lifted slightly. However, her thoughtful expression was washed away by a devious grin.

Paula lowered her gaze, away from Tiziana who denied her mercy in this life, down onto the red cushion. She stretched her neck. Cold sweat trickled down her bare nape.

"Gods, forgive me..." she breathed.

The mechanism made a clicking sound. The blade raced down the rails and slid mercilessly through Paula's neck. The girl was beheaded straight away as a powerful jolt went through her decapitated body. Her legs tried to kick upwards but were held in place by the restraints. At the same time, her fingers spread violently, only to lie motionless the next moment.

The girl's head rolled up to Tiziana's feet and a warm red stream spurted from her open neck.

The slave died instantly. She did not even see her own head fall. The cold steel had ended her life in the blink of an eye.

Tiziana felt waves of pleasure flooding from her vagina up her spine to the back of her neck and head. She writhed in her ecstasy on her throne as the poor young blood trickled quietly across the floor.