Bend

by K. Bromberg

  My body seized up as I barely contained a scream. The pain up my side was excruciating, and as my body stiffened in response to the sudden pain, Aia pushed herself from my arms and immediately pressed her hand to the dressing. I didn’t have to look—I could feel the blood seeping from it.

  “Lie back!” she said quickly, her voice ringing out a desperate tone. “Please, Faustus!”

  With her hand on my shoulder, I was again placed on my back against the mattress. The muscles of my shoulders complained immediately, but it wasn’t as bad as the pain in my side. Aia pulled up the dressing for a moment and confirmed I had indeed ripped out some of the stitches.

  “I’ll fetch Sergius.”

  She was gone only a few moments, but in that time, sweat covered my brow and my breathing increased until I was panting to get enough air. My chest ached along with my side, and my head began to swim.

  “What did you do, woman?” Sergius cried as he fussed over the bandages.

  I looked up to her distressed face.

  “I did it,” I growled through clenched teeth. Anger mixed with pain, and I found myself rising to her defense. “She tried to stop me, and I obviously should have listened.”

  With the doctor’s wrath directed away from the young slave, she visibly relaxed, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes. I looked from her to Sergius, trying to understand the dynamic between them, but I could determine nothing. Once again, Aia held me down as the doctor sutured the skin that had pulled away from the stitches.

  “Do I need to strap you down, Tribunus?” the doctor asked.

  I glared up at him, resenting his tone. It didn’t matter that he was trying to heal me; I still felt the desire to punish him for him impudence. I considered several options, including buying the hospital itself to keep him permanently under my thumb but knew such a thing would not serve Rome well. My loyalty was a singular thing, so I dismissed the thoughts in my head.

  “You do not,” I replied.

  He nodded succinctly, rechecked the dressing, and left us.

  “Apologies, Tribunus,” Aia began as soon as he left the room. “I didn’t intend to-”

  “Hush,” I commanded. “You did nothing.”

  She remained unsettled until I reached out and took her by the hand. I smiled as best I could through the pain and pulled her closer to the bed.

  “I have suffered far worse,” I told her. “This is not my first battle wound.”

  Aia squeezed my hand gently before releasing it and moving back to her bench. She reached for a cloth and dipped it in a bowl of water and then ran the cool cloth over my forehead and down the side of my face. She continued, apparently determined to wash whatever remained of the blood of battle away from my flesh.

  I closed my eyes and evened out my breaths as her ministrations lulled me. My shoulders still ached from the constant position against the bed, but I tried not to think of the discomfort. When I opened my eyes, I saw Aia looking down my body and couldn’t help but respond with a smile.

  “Do you still think of it?”

  Aia looked back at me.

  “Of what, Faustus?”

  “My cock pressed against your belly.”

  She looked away, but I could still make out the crimson shade of her cheeks and neck in the glow of the candles on the table. I wanted to reach out and grab her hand again, but she was too far away.

  “I’m still in need of distraction,” I reminded her.

  “I think you need sleep,” Aia rebutted. Her lips pressed together, and I was sure she wanted to comment further, but chose not to do so. I found my eyes drawn to the front of her dress as she leaned over me, partially exposing one of her breasts.

  Despite the discomfort, my cock took notice.

  “Distract me,” I commanded again.

  “I think you know everything about my life now, Faustus.”

  “Then distract me another way,” I suggested. I kept my eyes on her, and when she looked to me, I raised an eyebrow and smiled suggestively.

  Aia turned to drop the cloth in the bowl, and I watched her eyes as she looked down my body. From my supine position, the state of my cock was becoming noticeable. Her blush returned, and she looked back to the bowl again. Her hand trembled slightly as she wrung out the cloth and hung it beside the table.

  Reaching out, I took her wrist and guided her hand to the hard length of my cock.

  “How long will it be,” I asked with lowered voice, “until I can fill you with this?”

  Aia’s lip trembled, and her eyelids fluttered as she looked from where her palm rested back to my eyes. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and the swell of her breasts beneath the sheer fabric of her dress rose and fell with her breathing.

  “Ten days,” she said in a near-whisper. “Perhaps two weeks.”

  I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath through my nose. When I opened my eyes again, I caught a glimpse of Aia’s tongue as it darted over her full lips.

  “A long time,” I said, “to lie with stiff cock.”

  I felt her pull at her hand to remove it from the bulge beneath my undergarment, but I held her in place.

  “Are you not here to give me comfort?”

  “Yes, Faustus.” She looked at me.

  “Then do you believe my length not enough to desire?” Again I raised an eyebrow and granted her half a smile.

  “No!” she exclaimed in near-panic. “You are…quite grand.”

  “Then become better acquainted with my grandeur,” I smirked.

  “Feeling your desire for me is most overwhelming,” Aia admitted. “The honor of comforting a man of your grandeur has me anxious. I worry I will not be enough for you.”

  Her flattery did not go unnoticed. I saw it not only with my eyes but also felt it in both heart and the hardened flesh beneath my subligarium.

  “Your mouth draws forth the most beautiful music,” I said. “I would hear it sing to my cock.”

  Her tongue darted out and traced her lips as she looked from our joined hands to my eyes. I held her gaze, but she remained hesitant.

  “I would find it most relaxing,” I informed her.

  She took a deep breath as she wet her lips again. She blinked rapidly a few times and then reached over with her other hand and removed my fingers from hers. She laid my hand at my side, and for a moment, I thought she might refuse me.

  I would never press a woman, not even an unwilling slave, but I felt my chest constrict at the idea that this one—this beautiful Aia—would deny me what I wanted.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she tugged at my undergarment, unwrapping the top layer and pulling it down, exposing me to her. Without hesitation, she took my cock in her hand and gently ran her fingers up the shaft.

  “Mmmm…” I moaned.

  “Will you lie still?” Aia asked quietly.

  “I will try,” I replied with another half-smile.

  She looked at me, and her eyes sparkled as she stroked me again. She slid partway down the bench and positioned herself over my lower body. With her eyes still on mine, she leaned forward and took me again, this time in her luscious mouth.

  After six months on the battlefield, I didn’t know how long I would be able to restrain myself.

  Her mouth was warm and soft on my hardened cock, and she used her tongue expertly to flick against the tip, up one side, and down the other. Her hair fell around her shoulders and partially covered her face from my view until I reached down and wrapped it in my fingers. I did nothing to change her pace but only held her hair away from her beautiful face.

  Her eyes held me as tightly as her mouth held my cock. She was beautiful and glorious as she moved her head up and down in perfect rhythm. There was no hesitation in her expression. Indeed, there was nothing there but raw desire, and it captivated me.

  She is only a slave.

  I found the errant thought curiously disturbing.

  She glanced at me once before rising from her seat and releasing m
y cock from her warm lips. She moved deftly to straddle me low over my thighs, and her head tilted first one way and then the other as she appraised me. Leaning over, she met my eyes as she coursed her tongue over her lips, and the moisture across her mouth gleamed in the candlelight as her lips again wrapped around the head of my cock.

  She lifted her head and ran her tongue over the end of my cock and then took me deeply into her mouth again. I groaned and forced my ass to remain against the bed as I grasped the edges of the cot with my fingers. My side ached, and I didn’t care. All my focus was on her lips and tongue. I relinquished control and basked in the warmth of her wet mouth as she moved expertly over my shaft.

  I stared at the ceiling and let her set her own pace for a moment as I reveled in the feeling of her soft mouth over my hard length. Another moan escaped me, and I caught a slight movement near the door.

  As I looked to the far side of the room, I saw that the doctor had returned. His eyes widened as he looked at the scene in front of him, glancing quickly from my face to Aia’s position on her knees, bent over my cock. Narrowing my eyes, I raised my hand and flicked it out towards him, motioning him away. We looked at each other for a short time before he nodded slightly and backed away.

  With my full attention back on the mouth surrounding my cock, I reached down to her and closed my eyes again. Twisting my fingers around Aia’s silky hair, I pulled her head down a little farther over my shaft.

  “How much of me can you take in that beautiful throat?” I asked. I brushed strands of her hair from her forehead as I gathered it up in my hand.

  Aia looked to my eyes, and I watched her relax her jaw and open her mouth to engulf more of me. She retreated as her reflexes betrayed her but quickly sucked more of me into her mouth again.

  “Far enough,” I informed her, stroking her cheek. I didn’t want her to push herself further than she was able just to appease me. I was quite appeased already. “Use your tongue on me.”

  Clenching my teeth, I strained to keep my hips still and not thrust forcefully into her throat. Her mouth and tongue continued to envelop me over and over again as I fought to stay still. When she trailed her fingers over my balls, I could resist no longer. With a light tilting of my hips, I grunted as the buildup of pressure found its release onto her tongue.

  She didn’t stop but increased the suction against my cock until she had claimed all I had to offer. I growled in the back of my throat appreciatively as she swallowed down my essence. When she slowly backed away and let my cock loose from her lips, she looked at me with satisfaction and pride.

  For many moments, I kept my eyes locked with hers while I remained in utter awe.

  “You have my gratitude,” I finally panted.

  “Will you now grant me your sleep?”

  I smiled, chuckled low, and nodded my head as she pulled my subligarium up my body. She smoothed it back into place over my flaccid cock and then ran her hand over my stomach. She checked the bandage at my side before positioning herself back at her bench. She pushed a strand of hair off my forehead and smiled at me.

  The worth of this woman tripled in my hooded eyes.

  III

  “What thoughts are in that beautiful head of yours?” I asked as I reached for Aia’s hand.

  We had not touched other than the common contact of nursemaid and wounded soldier since she had taken me in her mouth. Over the past few days, Aia told me more of her life, cleaned and dressed my wound, and slept on the bench beside me at night, but we had shared nothing more intimate. I had provided her with constant innuendo because the look on her lovely face at such words often made me smile.

  “Nothing of consequence,” Aia said, but her blush betrayed her.

  “I know exactly what brings that look into your eye,” I teased.

  “What is that, Faustus?”

  “The memory of my cock in your mouth and the taste of my seed on your tongue.” I was rewarded with her blush and shy glance, but no other response was forthcoming. With another woman—a Roman woman—I might have found her actions to be coy, but there was nothing coy about Aia. There was youth and innocence despite her position but nothing coy.

  Unlike women in Rome, including my late wife, Aia did not attempt childish games with me. She was forthright and quite honest when pressed, which was wholly the opposite of the Roman women I had encountered. It was refreshing.

  And alluring.

  “Your mouth gave me more healing than any of the salves prepared by the good doctor,” I told her.

  “You flatter,” Aia responded with a half-smile, “but healing your injury requires rest, not activity of a more strenuous nature.”

  “Then spread your legs over my thighs,” I suggested. “I would promise to lie still and let you do all the work.”

  She looked away from my eyes again, but I could still see the corners of her mouth turn up. Releasing my hand, she picked up a clay jar of whatever salve the doctor had prepared for me and began to remove the dressing from my wound. I swallowed down a gasp as her skilled fingers worked the ointment into the stitches.

  Aia applied fresh dressing over my injury and washed her hands in a small tub near the door before returning to my side. I watched her intently until her blush returned, and she averted her eyes.

  “Why do you look away from me?” I asked.

  “I find your gaze to be…too intense at times.”

  I considered her meaning as she leaned over me to straighten the linens around my shoulders. The teasing nature of Roman women entered my head, but I knew Aia was not teasing. I wondered what she meant by her words and found it concerning.

  “You fear me?”

  “No, Faustus.”

  My own sense of relief at her denial of fear surprised me. I was used to people fearing me, both men and women, but I did not seek her fear.

  “Then what?” I demanded. “Speak plainly.”

  Our eyes met once more, and she held her gaze steady as she spoke.

  “When you look at me like that, I feel quite warm inside.”

  I could not stop my smile or the response of my cock at her words. I longed to warm her insides, and to feel the length of my cock buried within her. I was pleased to hear she didn’t fear me and pressed the issue.

  “I could warm you further,” I offered with a raise of my eyebrows.

  “You must remain still,” she said with barely a whisper. She finished straightening the linen on the bed below me and stood straight at my side. “I have concern you will be further injured.”

  Reaching out, I took her hand in mine and pushed it down my body, over my stomach, and to the top of my subligarium, right above my hardened cock. Aia moistened her lips with her tongue as she stared down to where her hand covered me.

  “Then you warm me.”

  She took in a long, slow breath as her look darkened in desire. I observed in her eyes the moment she relented and felt a smile cross my face. She gave me the smallest of nods, and my smile widened.

  I released her hand, and she drew it back slowly. Her fingers outlined me from base to tip as she reached for the top of my subligarium and loosened the woven fabric at my waist. I lifted my hips slightly to allow her to remove the cloth from me entirely, exposing my needy flesh to her eyes.

  Aia knelt beside the cot and laid her head against my chest. Maneuvering my arm around to her back, I held her loosely as her hand trailed across my stomach. She took my cock in her hand and slowly stroked it as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes at the feeling.

  She claimed my flesh with her fingers and palm, running them up and down slowly at first and then with an increased pace. I fought against the urge to lift my hips and meet her touch with more force. I feared moving too much, for she might be inclined to slow or even stop her actions. I slid my hand down to her thigh, pushed the hem of her dress out of my way, and found her bare ass with my hand.

  I opened my eyes just a crack to watch her skilled hand on my flesh. My arm tightened around her
waist as my fingers squeezed her backside. I wanted her to turn her face to me so I could capture her lips with my own, but she kept her eyes focused on her purpose. With her mouth slightly open and the sound of her shallow breaths in my ears, she was a heady sight.

  I could hold back no longer.

  “Aia…” I groaned as I released into her hand and across my stomach.

  She continued to stroke me until I went soft in her palm and then slowly untangled herself from my arm to retrieve the cloth and bowl of water. She washed me first and then cleaned her own hand of my seed.

  I watched her efficiency in silence.

  *****

  After more than a week at the medicus’ residence, I was finally able to lie on my side. The relief I felt in my sore back and ass was enough to make me groan with pleasure as I relaxed into a different position. The gash down my side still ached, but the pain was much less than before.

  With my back now facing Aia’s usual place on the bench beside the cot, I couldn’t see her, and I found the realization distressing. I called her over to the other side of the bed, and she complied. Kneeling beside the cot, she took my hand in hers.

  “Are you in pain?” she inquired.

  “Nothing of consequence,” I replied. I dropped my eyes to the linens on the bed and judged the space there.

  “Come,” I said. As I pulled her hand, I saw hesitation in Aia’s eyes. “Lie here with me.”

  “Will you be still?” she asked quietly.

  I nodded once, and she hesitated but a moment before rising from the floor and positioning herself on the cot at my side. I wrapped my arms around her small form and held her against me. She placed her hand on my chest, carefully avoiding the dressings around my wound.

  For some time, we simply lay together on the cot, and Aia distracted me with more tales of learning to bake when she was young. Her stories had become so vivid, I could practically smell the bread with the warm, intoxicating scents of wheat, yeast, and herbs as it was removed from the oven. The contrast to my own childhood was not lost on me. It conjured forth memories of my father, a cold and unforgiving man. He was absent for most of my young life as he took his place on the steps of the Senate where he still spent most of his days. I had often been told I resembled him in attitude. There were also brief glimpses of my mother, whose social obligations left me to be raised by the slaves of the household. I barely knew her before she died. I had heard rumors of my father having her killed, and I did not doubt them.