"My lady shouldn't act so surprised. Luxury is expected when one gives thanks to the Gods for their blessings," Sana said quietly as she combed Myra's long hair. "After all, when it comes to celebrating the winter solstice, Emperor Commodus is hardly the most extravagant of Rome's rulers. He doesn't even come close." Myra swirled in her chair to stare at the lovely black woman behind her. She loved listening to Sana's guttural singsong accent when she spoke.
"Really? Not the most extravagant, huh?" said Myra.
"No, my lady. I've been told Emperor Nero had once turned the center of Rome into a lake. In it he had a boat full of nude women and men float around offering themselves to anyone that wished to partake of their charms," the black servant said a mischievous smile fluttering across her lips.
"And how is it you know so much about old Roman history, little Sana?" Myra asked playfully.
"Well, uhm…," the girl stammered.
Oh Fortuna, no! He told her. The little slut! And then Myra felt her stomach constrict with guilt. Who was she to be feeling jealous? Feelings were not part of the deal. Especially not feelings of jealousy!
"Uhm, I was requested... Last night... He told me," Sana bowed her head.
"Oh..." Myra hated the sad desperation that somehow found itself into her voice.
"It was nothing. Really…,” Sana said. "Just a moment of passion."
"Nothing…" Myra repeated her voice hollow.
Sometimes she really couldn't stand her own whininess. Unlike most of her childhood girlfriends, her voice still retained a good measure of its girlish sound and intonation. Myra knew that all too often she sounded like a young girl. During times of passion, her husband Silvanus often told her how much he loved her voice's girlish impishness. It made him hard, he said; and that made her happy.
But sometimes she hated her voice. Myra especially disliked it when it melded so well with her natural desire to please and make those around her happy. Being evil might be bad, but she suspected that being overly nice actually hurt.
Her father's good heart and leniency towards transgressors and competition, coupled with his trusting nature had quickly conspired to turn their estate unprofitable and generated a mountain of debt. When he died less than two months ago, Myra had quickly concluded that safe for a miracle, nothing would be able to prevent her little family from sliding into poverty and then most probably servitude. Such was the Roman way — perhaps crime did not pay, but goodness actually seemed to cost.
Sana put her palms on either side of Myra's face and slowly turned her to face her.
"Milady, he told me of your history because he knows I would tell you. He misses you and that is why he asked for me... " Sana gently kissed Myra's eyes. First the right, then the left. "It is the way it is, Milady. He pines for you..."
Myra so wanted to believe the woman. But why would it be true? How could it be true? He was the emperor of Rome. The most powerful man in the world — the king of kings. What did she have to offer him? She never considered herself attractive. Maybe pretty, but beautiful, gorgeous — these words had never crossed her mind when thinking of herself. Small, wispy little thing, her father had called her. How could the emperor pine for her? What does he see in me? Myra knew all too well that when it came to picking women, the emperor of Rome never suffered a drought. She still couldn't believe how she had ended up here. A miracle!
Or a curse… The emperor's Majordomo, had materialized one early morning with a proposal. The offer was so simple and so compelling that Myra hadn't been able to refuse it. She still felt gooseflesh rise along her arms when she remembered its terms.
All debts would be forgiven, all property claimed by the creditors would be restored, her sick brother would be provided for and her husband wouldn't have to risk his life by joining the military. Only one thing had been asked in return — that she spend one year as his Imperial Majesty's personal concubine.
A shiver ran down Myra's spine when she remembered that first day of service — her training they had called it. She closed her eyes as a lonely tear escaped from beneath her long eyelashes. She took a deep breath. It all seemed so remote, as if her old life on her father's estate was but a dream, a fairytale she had once heard. It had all happened to another Myra, someone else, not her, not the woman who walked in her shoes today. She had passed through a door she would never be able to go through again. This first day of training had been the very best morning of her life and also her very worst…
And then she threw up. One instant, Sana was hugging her, caressing her cheeks, consoling her, the next she was running for the carafe of water and the washbasin.
"Oh, my Gods, Milady, did you eat spoiled meat!" Sana was up and by her side in an instant, applying a cold compress to her forehead as Myra bent over and retched.
Chapter Three
ROMAN PASSIONS
The eve of Saturnalia.
Imperial Villa, Northern Italy
The hot mineral water tumbled out of the golden spout into the effervescent depths of the pool. It smelled of honey and roses. Myra disrobed and stepped in. She had decided to spend the final moments before the onset of the festival enjoying the ornate bathhouse of the estate. Tiny bubbles attached themselves to the fine hairs of her olive skin causing playful tickles that sent ripples of sensation coursing up and down her naked skin.
A deep sigh of contentment escaped her lips and echoed across the deserted spa. She smiled to herself and relaxed. The small waves lapping against her body sent her consciousness wandering and she drifted off into a gentle nap.
Luckily her earlier discomfort had passed. Probably something bad to eat, had been Sana's conclusion and Myra hoped she was right. But now as she lounged in the hot mineral waters of the pool she felt a different kind of discomfort. She felt lonely. The emperor, as well as everyone else, had disappeared. Where to, Myra didn't know. Maybe off to race horses at the private hippodrome she had spied earlier when they had first arrived.
Myra imagined Commodus, semi-nude, a sheen of sweat glistening along his muscles as he rode a gilded carriage led by a team of twelve enormous black stallions galloping across the sands of the race-track. The echoes of hooves reverberating from the mountain slopes.
*****
The emperor reached and carefully drew back the curtain to the spa. A big smile crossed his lips. He could see her. Asleep. Her body gently drifted along the edge of the pool, its nakedness barely covered by the bubbly water. He stepped into the bath and took a long moment to inhale the purifying fragrance of roses as it mingled with the roiling clouds of steam. His heartbeat increased to that of a racing stallion as his eyes zeroed in on the petite naked form ahead. She was truly beautiful, a thin veil of tiny bubbles doing precious little to hide her figure. He felt himself begin to harden as he stepped forward, then knelt at the edge of the pool and guided the palm of his hand down and into the water.
As his hand brushed her silky smooth rib cage, her doe dark eyes slowly fluttered open and their gazes connected. She smiled, her lips gentle and swollen with desire.
"Master," she quietly said, "I was dreaming of you."
"Milady," he replied, upon his lips a flicker of mischievousness, “I'm here to serve you."
Myra's eyes fluttered wider and she sat up, "It is time then?"
"Indeed, Milady, the time is nigh," he replied barely concealing the eagerness from his voice.
During her solitude these last ten days Myra had learned a lot about the ancient festival of Saturnalia. It was a four day and night celebration of Saturn — the powerful sun-god, patron of Rome — Sol Invictus. One thing in particular, had excited her fertile imagination and sent her heart racing in fevered anticipation. Sana had told her that it was accepted custom that during the four days and nights of Saturnalia, slave and master would exchange places. The owner would dote and wait upon his slave while the latter would take the opportunity to indulge every whim her heart desired.
She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came
as she gazed with longing upon her emperor. She gingerly lifted a hand and proffered it to him. Commodus took it and guided it around the thick muscles of his neck. Then he reached into the water and pulled her wet body out from the tub allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist until he gently put her down to stand beside him with the effortless movements of someone who spent all of his adult life either in battle or in the arena.
"You are my slave now," she whispered.
“Yes, Milady," he replied, his face a study of stony solemnity. "For another four days and nights."
"I seem to remember that I promised you something," she was discovering a side to herself she never knew existed. "Do you remember what it was exactly that I said?" She grinned.
"You promised to punish me," he said, the first sign of discomfort finding its way into his voice.
"Indeed," Myra said as she turned her naked back to him smiling is she pictured his thoughts while he followed.
"Come with me… And while you do — strip. I want you naked for the rest of the night." She grinned with wicked pleasure. She heard him unbuttoning his belt and then his toga and one by one she heard them all fall to the ground. She turned to look at him and liked what she saw.
"The sandals too" she wiggled her forefinger at him and beckoned him forward. When he was about four paces away she motioned him to stop. As he froze in place she clapped her hands twice. Myra smiled at Commodus. He was just so darn cute with this puzzled expression of his. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sana come into the room holding the item she had sent for a few hours ago.
"Tell me, my beautiful slave," Myra said as she stepped closer and traced her fingertip along the emperor's chin, "why is it you think I need to punish you?"
"You are my Master, Mistress I mean," he corrected himself, "and I am your slave. It is natural for the one to discipline the other. No reason is needed, Mistress." Commodus bowed his head submissively and Myra saw how excited he had become. He actually likes being dominated! How fun!
"Perhaps," she agreed "but in your case, I actually have a reason. Can you guess what it is?"
She almost laughed when she saw his puzzlement. She placed both her hands at his chest and with a sudden movement grabbed hold of his nipples and viciously sunk her nails in them as she twisted. She saw his face contort with the surprise of the sudden pain.
"No… Mistress, I can't…"
"You scorned and avoided my cravings consistently for the last ten days!" she whispered as she rose on tip toes to his ear. "Slave."
"That is why you deserve to be punished. Wouldn't you agree?" she inquired savoring her new power. She let go of his nipples and he inhaled deeply.
"Yes, Milady, I do deserve to be punished," he whispered, his voice raspy with tension. His shoulders had slumped and his chest had lost some of its normal panache. But his manhood was hard. I have never seen him that hard before. Myra smiled.
"You know, before I came here to be your slave," she said the last word with such profound disdain that it crunched up her features as if she had bitten off a sour lemon, "I was a free woman of Rome myself. In fact, there was a time my family was rich. Maybe not as rich as any of you people here in the capital, but rich enough that I knew a bit about the proper treatment of slaves."
She motioned for Sana to approach and took from her a wide leather strap with a buckle at the end.
"A little something that I learned back then was that often times humiliation can be much more effective a punishment than pain.” She giggled when she saw his eyes widen with apprehension.
"So here is my punishment for you," she held up the leather collar, "First, for the next twelve hours, until sunrise — you are to ware this collar around your neck as a reminder of who is your mistress. And second," she stepped forward on tip toes and kissed him deeply, devouring those pouty lips of his.
"Second," her voice grew husky, "I want you and me to go in there, in the hot room, in the sauna, and I want you to pleasure me, as only you are pleasured by your slaves." At this she reached up and deftly slipped the collar around his neck firmly locking it in place. She saw him swallow with apprehension at the foreign sensations of the thick black leather. Myra decided then that she truly wouldn't mind celebrating Saturnalia for more than the meager four days proscribed by tradition. Maybe an entire year would be perfect. Her smile broadened.
Just as they reached the small enclosure of the hot house, the emperor found his hunger for this woman overpowering and his mouth fell upon her soft parted lips devouring them in a spasm of wild abandon. A shudder contorted her, and she heard herself whimper in anguish as the sensations exploding inside her body wiped all thought from her mind. She had never felt anything like it before. Her belly was fluttering as if an animal within had suddenly awoken and taken control of her body.
He slipped a muscled arm around her waist and lifted her to sit on the massage-couch.
"Put your hands behind, Milady, and prepare yourself to be serviced,” he said, his eyes, only inches from hers, his voice making it clear it was an order.
Myra's hands flew to her back and she touched her wrists to the cleft of her butt. Perched on the edge of her couch, Myra kept her concentration centered on keeping her knees open and toes pointed up as Sana had taught her.
Commodus bent and retrieved a set of metal clamps from a dresser by the door. The clamps had small golden teeth and were joined with a heavy gold chain. After rummaging some more, he produced a couple of thin leather strings that he used to quickly secure her wrists. He noticed her testing the knots glad to see her disappointment as she discovered the security of the restraints.
“Look this way," he pointed at the wall to his left. In the instant she did as instructed, he leaned in and kissed her neck. A gentle peck of his lips was followed by a sloppy kiss which was then followed by sucking on her skin. He held it between his teeth and gently but deliberately squeezed until he felt it bruise. Myra gasped, part with anguish and part with ecstasy.
"Good," he said simply and kissed her forehead. Even without touching her, Commodus saw in her eyes the invisible waves of lust coursing through her body.
"I will serve you now, as I wish to be served later," the emperor growled. "If you have anything to say, better voice your protests now." He stood back and using one of the flaming cedar torches at the entrance to the hot room, lit a multitude of candles that she hadn't noticed until now. Dozens if not hundreds of the tiny wax things had been artfully arranged around the edge of the room.
Shimmering light danced off the polished marble walls and glinted off the chiseled muscles and narrow waist of the emperor. Myra felt her nipples tighten almost in pain and her thighs spread of their own accord. Her eyes scanned his godlike perfection as he moved this way and that, arranging the fragrant candles. As if Adonis himself had come down from Mount Olympus, he was pure glory, from the thick black curls of his hair to the muscled calves of his legs. She noticed a sheen of perspiration had broken all over him. He had barely even touched her yet. The thought of the effect she was obviously having upon him without so much as even brushing his skin sent shivers of pleasure and apprehension up and down her spine.
"Here we go, Myra," he bent forward, caught her bound wrists and angled them up behind her back. His eyes found and locked in on hers. At the moment her pupils narrowed from the first hint of pain he stopped and connected her hands to a hook behind her back she never knew was there.
Her arms were pointed almost straight up causing her upper torso to angle forward at the waist thus making her large breasts to dangle straight down. He knelt and kissed every toe first on her left foot and then the right. Then he used his tongue and laved the soles of her feet taking an extra long time to wiggle between her toes that he then lovingly suckled on.
And then, out of nowhere, her first orgasm hit.
Mesmerized by the sensation at her feet, Myra never even felt it approach. Like a surprise midsummer-storm, it engulfed her out of nowhere, crunching up her body,
causing her to ooomphth a gasp as if an invisible hand had reached and grasped her belly. Commodus felt her shudder with ecstasy and discovered that her exquisite pleasure caused his own manhood to grow and expand further than ever before.
With care, he used her trance to secure one foot and then the other to the respective sides of the couch where her trembling form how sat. Then he relaxed back on his haunches and patiently waited for her to come down from her ecstasy.
As the last of her tremors subsided he stood up and reached for a bottle of fragrant lavender oil that he poured generously on his palm and then along her neck from where it trickled down finding its way to her engorged nipples from where it started dripping down to the floor as if milk from a swollen mammary. He wrapped both his hands around her flesh and gently kneaded her breasts sending bolts of energy through her core. He sensed her try to collect her thighs together, realizing for the first time she couldn't close them all the way as the leather bindings tugged back at her ankles. Not too tight to hurt but just tight enough to restrain. She looked up at him casting a pleading stare.
"No! It's not over, Myra. Trust me. In fact, we've only just began," he whispered. Oh, Gods, no!
She couldn't possibly come again! She was done! At least for the night. She had never, ever come more than once at a time before in her life.
Amazingly, as his fingers continued administering his tender attentions to her breasts, she felt a stirring of warmth begin to return. Tiny tingles of excitement started emanating from her core, cascading out across her stomach and legs. She giggled softly as she felt her nether lips moisten again. She felt him put a finger to her chin so he could stare into her eyes.
Mistress of Rome, Book Three of The Emperor's Obsession Page 2
