“Tomorrow is the Festival of the Vinalia.” Aurelia replies. “Domina is to host a celebration that evening.”
“We will be expected to attend to serve wine?” You ask as you reach the doorway to the slaves’ quarters.
“We may be summoned, but to serve alternate purpose.” Aurelia replies mysteriously before disappearing inside.
“What is her meaning?” Fabia asks you.
“We shall discover her meaning soon enough.” You shrug, your mind flashing back to the previous party and your private audience with Lucilla, before following Fabia inside. As you enter the gloomy room, you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You rock back as a flash of steel slices through the air where your throat had been. A hand reaches out and grasps Fabia, pulling her into the room. You step into the room away from your attacker, who you recognise as Otho, the slave who had attempted to force himself on her. He holds Fabia in front of him, a knife at her throat. The handful of other slaves in the room back nervously away, watching from a distance.
“Time for a reckoning.” Otho snarls, eyes wide with fury. “She was mine and you took her from me. You then add further insult by taking pleasure with her last night.”
You stand facing him, alert and ready to react to his next movement while your eyes search for something to use as a weapon. Otho’s knife appears to be one he has constructed himself, a thin jagged length of steel with a cloth wrapped around one end as a makeshift handle. You size Otho up. He is a big man, but he looks like little more than a street thug. You are just out of reach and you could potentially lunge for the knife before he had time to react. Perhaps you could talk him down, but there is a madness in his eyes that worries you. A dangerous alternative would be to taunt him, try to use his madness against him, but it might just antagonise him and make him kill Fabia in his fury. You weigh up your options:
Make a grab for Otho's knife.
Try to talk him down.
Taunt him.
You lunge for the knife, but Otho steps back and with a sickening sound, slices the blade across Fabia’s throat, blood spurting into your face, blinding you. As you reach for your face to clear your vision, you feel an agonising pain in your belly. You sink to your knees, reaching for the source of the pain and finding the knife handle sticking out. You fall back, lying in a rapidly expanding pool of your own blood on the stone floor, Fabia’s lifeless body beside you and wonder, as your life blood drains out of you, if you should have been a little less reckless.
Begin the altercation again and reconsider your actions.
Restart Adventure.
“She’s no good to you dead.” You tell Otho. “Let the girl go, drop the knife and we’ll settle this like men.”
He shakes his head.
“You are no man.” He growls. “You are a thief and I am taking back my property.”
“She’s not yours.” You reply. “She’s our Domina’s property, same as you.”
“Fuck Domina and fuck you too.” He retorts. “I say she’s mine and tonight you will lie alone and listen as I ravish her again and again.”
You decide that diplomacy is not working. Time for more drastic action.
Make a grab for the knife.
Taunt him.
“Did you enjoy listening to us last night?” You smile. “Did you hear me make her moan like a whore as she came? You’ll never hear her moan like that with your pathetic excuse for a cock. Is that why you have that long knife? Are you making up for a deficiency between your legs?” There are nervous chuckles from the other watching slaves
“I stand twice the man you are.” Otho growls, his eyes ablaze with fury. “You aren’t worthy to lick the shit from my boots.”
“Perhaps, but Fabia enjoyed my tongue last night.” You smile and stick out your tongue, flicking it rapidly up and down.
“You Gaul bastard!” Otho throws Fabia away from him and lunges at you with the knife. His fury has made him rash and he lashes out wildly with the blade. You duck underneath his swing and punch him hard in the belly. Otho doubles over, winded and you immediately follow up with a savage upper cut. His head rocks back, the knife slipping from his grasp as he reels away from you, landing in a heap on the floor. The knife slides across the stone floor to stop at the feet of a guard in the doorway, who has heard the commotion and come to investigate. He draws his sword and points the tip at the burly slave’s throat as he picks himself up off the floor.
“Come with me.” He growls. Otho glances at you as he leaves the slaves’ quarters, the murderous fury replaced by fear.
“He’ll be straight to the mines.” Atticus joins you. “It will be back breaking work and slaves mercifully don’t live long down in that dark hell.”
You nod, relieved that you won’t have to sleep with one eye open. Fabia joins you and kisses you gratefully on the cheek.
“You have my gratitude.” She smiles. “That time I did need your help.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to reward him.” Atticus quips before wandering away.
“You had me worried for a moment, taunting Otho like that.” Fabia says. “I feared you were talking him into slitting my throat, but you read him just right.”
“Perhaps I have grown weary of you.” You smile.
“Then perhaps I should give you cause to think of me in a better light.” She smiles, her hand reaching for your groin. “You can show me how you earned the nickname Spurtacus.”
Late the following afternoon, you sit in the slaves’ quarters, your menial duties in the villa completed for the day. A guard enters, his eyes searching the gloomy interior before they find you.
"Titus." He growls. "Clean yourself up and put this on." He throws you a neatly folded tunic. It is dark blue and of a much finer quality than the usual slave attire.
"When you are ready, report to Domina in the Triclinium." He continues. "It's your lucky day." He adds enigmatically before turning and leaving.
Washed and dressed, you make your way to the villa. As you reach the entrance to the Triclinium, the sound of voices and laughter fill the air from the twenty or so Romans in attendance. There is the gentle sound of the strings of a Lyre being plucked and you spot one of your fellow slaves sitting in the corner, her nimble fingers playing at the harp-like instrument. Beneath the watchful gaze of statues of Venus and Dionysus, the guests, clothed in fine dresses and togas recline on couches arranged around a fine central mosaic upon which sits an empty couch. You recognise several of the Romans from the previous party, including Lucilla and her husband Quintus. Servilia, dressed in an expensive looking maroon dress, sits on a chair to one side of the room, while two slaves fan her. Wisps of smoke drift through the air as hemp seeds burn on braziers and all the Romans seem to have a goblet of wine in their hand. Judging by the relaxed manner and raucous laughter of some of the guests, you surmise that the Vinalia celebration has been in full swing for some time and that the guests have consumed a fair amount of wine. A guard ushers you inside towards the centre of the room.
"Ah Titus." Servilia smiles, catching sight of you and getting to her feet, her goblet of wine in one hand. A murmur travels around the room before the other Romans fall silent and all look upon you with interest. "I understand that despite your barbaric heritage in Gaul, you are quite the lover." Her eyes flick momentarily in the direction of Lucilla. "Indeed, I hear you have earned the name ‘Spurtacus’.” There is a ripple of laughter from the watching Romans. “My guests would see a demonstration of your legendary sexual prowess."
"Domina?" You ask, unsure as how to respond to such a statement.
"Come now Titus." She grins, stepping towards you and running a hand across your chest. "Don't be bashful. I have brought a choice of two beautiful slaves to help you provide such a demonstration." Servilia clicks her fingers and Aurelia and another woman emerge from one of the side rooms. Your eyes widen as you gaze at the other woman. She is tall and athletically built with long dark hair, but what makes you stare in wo
nder is her dark skin. Not olive, like the Romans, but black! You had heard tales from merchants of the dark skinned Africans, but you had never thought you would ever actually meet one. She holds herself proudly and you are quite entranced by both her beauty and her exotic race. Both her and Aurelia are wearing fine dresses and look quite beautiful, Aurelia's olive skin contrasting with the black woman’s dark skin.
"Zuna is from the African city of Carthage.” Servilia gestures towards the black woman. “She is the property of my good friend Quintus." Servilia adds, nodding in the direction of Lucilla's husband. "She has kindly been offered to you to help provide a demonstration of your… talents. However, we also have our own Aurelia to provide suitable alternative. You may choose which ever you feel would make the better spectacle.” Servilia steps back between them and waits for your answer. Both slave girls smile at you awaiting your decision.
Choose Aurelia
Choose Zuna
Choose them both
Choose Servilia
You find yourself intrigued by the statuesque African woman and you can't take your eyes off her smooth, dark skin.
"Zuna." You tell Servilia. Servilia smiles and guides Zuna towards you. Aurelia pouts with disappointment and is lead from the room, presumably to return to the slaves' quarters. Zuna crosses the room towards you, her dark brown eyes fixed on you. She reaches you and presses her lips to yours, catching you by surprise as she kisses you aggressively.
"Careful, she's a handful!" Lucilla's husband calls out to a chorus of laughter from the watching Romans as Lucilla elbows him in the ribs. Zuna steps back away from you, her eyes fixed on yours as she slowly and seductively strips off the fine dress, letting it slip from her body to fall in a pool of expensive fabric at her feet. She smiles as she watches your eyes drink in her naked form. Your gaze is drawn to her pert breasts, her erect black nipples darker still than her smooth ebony skin. Your gaze drops lower, past her flat stomach down to the coarse tangle of pubic hair, barely visible against her dark skin, down further to her toned thighs and her long, slender legs. Satisfied that you have enjoyed gazing upon her, she steps back towards you, her fingers quickly stripping you of your clothes, her hand finding your hard cock. You gaze down, aroused by the exotic sight of her dark fingers contrasting with the pale skin of your shaft. You look back up at her and she whispers to you in her strange African tongue. While you don't understand the words, it sounds like a question. She tilts her head slightly to one side, a subtle smile on her lips and awaits your response.
Guide Zuna to the floor and position yourself in a 69.
Guide her mouth to your cock.
You guide Zuna to lie on her back. She smiles and lowers her slender frame to the ornate mosaic floor, her legs slightly parted, gazing up at you expectantly. You pause for a moment, admiring her long, slender, toned body, her long black hair framing her beautiful ebony face, her eyes inviting and her smile genuine as she patiently waits. There is a murmur of excitement from your audience as you drop to your knees astride her head and lean forward, lowering your face between her parted thighs. You breathe in her feminine aroma as you gaze down at the dark, dewy folds of her pussy before dropping your head between her thighs. As you bury your face into her wetness, your feel the delicious sensation of her mouth enveloping the tip of your rigid cock, her full lips sliding up and down your shaft as you press your lips to her labia and part them with your tongue. As you begin to lap at her slit, she lets out a muffled moan around your cock. Encouraged, you slip your tongue deeper inside her before sliding out and lapping at her clit. Her hands grip your buttocks, using them as leverage to bob her head up and down your shaft, sliding it further and further past her lips. You moan into her pussy as you feel her tongue sliding around your rigid cock. The vibrations of your moan on her sensitive pussy seem to send her over the edge and her mouth leaves your cock as she shrieks loudly with pleasure as she climaxes, her hips bucking against your face as you continue to slide your tongue inside her juicy slit. As her orgasm subsides, you climb off her and help her back to her feet, her pert breasts heaving as she catches her breath. She smiles at you before glancing pointedly at your hard cock.
Lay her on the couch and slide into her pussy.
Guide your cock back between her lips and come in her mouth.
Bend her over the couch and prepare to slide your cock in her tight arsehole.
You apply a little downward pressure and Zuna happily drops to her knees in front of you, gazing up at you before taking the tip into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl around it before she reaches for your cock, pulling it from her mouth and proceeds to slide her tongue over every inch of it until your entire shaft glistens with her saliva. Satisfied, she again opens her mouth and takes you deep inside until you feel the tip nudge the back of her throat. You expect her to immediately pull you from her mouth, eyes watering and gasping for breath. Instead, her hands grip your buttocks and she continues to slide her head forward, your cock sliding into her throat and her lips sliding down your shaft until they reach the very root of your cock. She holds this position for a moment, her eyes fixed on yours, her full lips stretched around the base of your cock. There is an excited murmur from the watching Romans.
"Incredible." Your hear Servilia comment in awe.
"Did I not say as much?" Quintus replies with pride in his voice.
Finally, Zuna slides her lips back down your length and begins to bob her head back and forth, occasionally taking you deep into her throat and enjoying your groans of pleasure each time. You glance over at the Romans who are enraptured by what they see. You notice Lucilla absently caressing a breast, while her husband, Quintus, rubs his groin through his clothes. A sharp suck on your cock brings your attention back to Zuna and you can feel the unmistakable stirrings of your climax building in your balls. Zuna can sense it too and pulls back from your cock, glancing up at you questioningly.
Come in Zuna's mouth.
Lay her on the couch and slide into her pussy.
Bend her over the couch and prepare to slide your cock in her tight arsehole.
You guide Zuna to the couch and she bends over, her legs spread. You reach out and run your hands over the smooth ebony skin of her buttocks, caressing them before sliding your fingers between her cheeks. You slide a fingertip inside her soaking wet pussy for a moment before withdrawing it and sliding your finger up to her tiny, puckered arsehole. She gasps in surprise as she feels your fingertip touch her tight anus, lubricating it with her own juices. She glances over her shoulder at you, lust in her eyes. She whispers something in her native tongue before smiling and pushing back against your finger. You apply pressure and your finger slips into her arse. Zuna moans as you begin to slide your finger inside her tight passage. She again glances over her shoulder at you and says a couple of words in her strange language. Though you don't understand her words, you can read her lustful expression. You withdraw your finger and replace it with the tip of your cock, pressing it against the tight knot of her anus. She pushes back and you watch as her sphincter stretches around the bulbous head as it slips into her arse. You both gasp in unison and there is an excited murmur from the watching Romans. You hold still, allowing Zuna to grow accustomed to the intruder, but after a moment, she pushes back and you watch enthralled as the pale skin of your shaft disappears between the dark flesh of her buttocks until your cock is completely imbedded inside her tight rectum. Her arse feels incredible, the hot walls of her snug passage enveloping your cock, while the tight ring of muscle of her sphincter holds the base of your shaft in a vice like grip. You begin to pump your cock into her, Zuna panting loudly with every thrust. You glance over your shoulder at the watching Romans, who to your shock are in various states of undress and are engaged in all manner of sexual activities. You notice one Roman woman sandwiched between two men with a cock in both her pussy and her arse while a third man guides his cock to her mouth. Another Roman woman has her face buried in Lucilla's pussy while she takes her h
usband's cock in her mouth. Servilia sits in her chair surveying the scene around her, her dress pulled up to her waist, her hand working feverishly between her legs. You turn your attention back to Zuna, who has sunk forward, her head on the couch. You immediately realise why, as her hand is thrust between her legs and is working at her clit as you continue to thrust inside her tight arsehole. Her moans grow louder and ragged and with a final drawn out groan, she reaches her orgasm, her whole body trembling as her climax radiates out from her groin. Her arse clenches your cock as her body convulses with pleasure and you can feel the beginnings of your own climax fast approaching.
Come in her arse.
Come on her back.
Come in her mouth.
You grip Zuna's hips and with a roar of pleasure you erupt deep inside her bowels. Her clenching arse milks the come from you and intensifies your climax to the point where your legs feel like they might give out from under you. After your climax subsides, you pull your softening shaft from her arse and collapse next to her on the couch. She turns and sits next to you as you gaze in wonder at the sea of writhing flesh all around you. The Roman woman who had three cocks in her at once lies on her back on the floor while each of her three men take it in turns to spill their creamy seed all over her face. She smiles up at them, opening her mouth wide, desperately trying to catch their come as it spurts from their cocks all over her features until her face is covered in the combined pearly semen of all three men. Lucilla has switched places with her friend and laps at her pussy while Quintus pumps his cock into his wife from behind. Servilia remains in her seat, continuing to masturbate until you see her stiffen, throw back her head and tremble as she too reaches her climax. All around you, the Romans all seem to be moaning, grunting and crying out with pleasure as they all reach their own climaxes. Servilia rises from her seat, straightens her dress and crosses the room towards you.
Spurtacus Page 4
