Sirona managed to force down a little more of the varied dishes on offer, but it was mostly the rich red wine she consumed as she listened to Lucius talk. Not surprisingly, he was far more eloquent when speaking his own language. He told her of the beauty and size of the eternal city and the power and strength of the two Emperors he knew so well. Vespasian had spent most of his short reign constructing the coliseum. The magnificent structure had been erected on the site of the Nero’s Golden House. Now Titus was planning one hundred days of games, during which the coliseum would be flooded for a day so that a sea battle could be fought. It would be the most amazing spectacle ever seen in Rome.
‘I should like to see that,’ Sirona said, not realising that the battle would be fought in earnest and many of the participants would be killed.
‘Perhaps you will,’ Lucius replied. ‘I can take you there, Sirona.’ He smiled indulgently as he saw her conceal a yawn behind her hand. ‘You look weary. Let’s walk a while in the garden. It will help your meal go down before you retire.’
She was filled with a warm languid sensuality and yet she still felt confused by her conflicting emotions as Lucius rose to his feet and stepped towards her. She had expected the same pleasant tingling sensations she’d experienced before when their hands had touched, not this strong surge of sexual desire that almost took her breath away as he helped her up.
She had to hide her sudden arousal from Lucius, as he slipped a possessive arm around her waist and led her into the newly completed garden. The fountain was working now and the sound of the water was soothing. Somehow she couldn’t seem to help herself as she leant against Lucius, feeling the powerful strength of his body, smelling the sweet-scented oil that clung to his warm flesh. The sensations were so overwhelming that she gave an unconscious sigh as she looked up at the night sky.
‘Are you sad?’ he asked.
‘No, I was just thinking that the sky is very beautiful. There seem to be more stars here than at home.’
‘I think it is just that the skies are cloudier in Brittania. When I was there, I used to miss the sun of my homeland so much.’ His hand slid upwards, until it was just beneath her breasts.
‘Sometimes I miss the grey skies.’ She turned to look at him, knowing that as she did so she was stepping over a precipice and there was nothing that would stop her from falling. She lifted her hand and tenderly caressed his lean cheek as she pressed her body close to his.
‘I don’t want to force you,’ he said softly. ‘Do you feel as I do?’
‘Yes,’ she found herself murmuring.
His lips covered hers, his kiss deep and probing. Sirona returned it eagerly, wanting it to become as strong and violent as the desires that were suddenly flooding her body.
She felt a little dizzy and the stars above seemed to spin of their own accord, as Lucius’s tongue eagerly explored her mouth. Sirona let him take complete control of the situation, shivering with anticipation as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bedchamber. The lamps were all lit and, as he set her down on her feet, she saw the need he felt for her reflected in his dark eyes.
Awkwardly, he started to fumble with the gold ribbon encircling her waist. ‘Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,’ he said, unaware of how desperate she suddenly was to see his naked body and feel his warm flesh pressed close to hers.
‘I don’t want you to stop,’ she said, her legs now feeling a little wobbly.
She pulled the folds of the toga off his arm, exposing his entire chest. There was a small arrow of silky black hair leading down towards his groin. Leaning forwards, she brushed it with her lips and Lucius gave a soft groan.
‘Let me.’ Pushing his fingers away, Sirona untied the ribbon and dropped it on the floor. Lucius’s hands reached for the ornate fibulas holding the flimsy silk together on her shoulders. This time he wasn’t so clumsy as he unfastened them quickly and the soft fabric drifted down her body and fell in a pool at her feet.
Lucius cupped one full breast in his hand as he rubbed his rough fingertip against her erect and aching nipple. The sensation was delicious and her sex felt warm and all too ready for him, as she pulled at the ties holding the toga around his waist. The long length of fine white wool fell to the floor, totally enveloping the small green patch of discarded silk.
By now, Sirona was desperate to see him naked as she kicked off her flimsy sandals and tugged urgently at his brief loincloth. He helped her pull it away, releasing his cock, which was already stiffly erect. A hot uncontrollable need filled her body and her pussy grew wet, as he gently guided her towards his wide bed. They fell together on the coverlet, hungry hands reaching for each other.
Lucius looked down at Sirona as if his eyes couldn’t get enough of her, while he explored every subtle curve of her naked body. His hands were those of a soldier, roughened by handling weapons and she shivered as his callused fingers stroked her breasts. He kissed her again, working his tongue into her mouth.
Sirona forgot any of the lingering doubts she once might have felt. All she knew was that she wanted Lucius, as his lips slid down her neck and over her collarbone. He captured one of her nipples with his mouth and the gentle pulling sensation sent shivers of pleasure through her entire body. He curved his tongue around the hard tip while his hands gently squeezed and caressed her breasts. Then his mouth slid downwards again, his teeth gently nibbling at her flat belly.
She wanted to touch him too, but when she reached for him he pushed her hands away. ‘Not yet,’ he pleaded, as he gently parted her thighs. Her heart raced out of control, as his fingers stroked her auburn bush of silky hair, not appearing to find it at all offensive as some Romans would.
Lucius eased his fingers between her swollen sex lips and groaned softly when he felt how wet she was there. Gently, he slid two fingers inside her, while his callused thumb rubbed her clit. The flesh was so swollen and tender that she could feel the pleasure rising swiftly inside her. She sighed, no longer feeling the faintest tinge of embarrassment or regret, as he eased her thighs wider and buried his face in her pussy. Sirona shuddered with delight as his tongue slid into the narrow crack, seeking out the firm bud of her clit. He brushed it, very tenderly at first and the touch was far too gentle to satisfy her. Lifting her hips, she made an imploring noise deep in her throat. His lips fastened around the small bud, teasing and titillating, while his fingers slid deeper inside her. Sirona’s senses soared and she seemed to leave her body, looking down upon his dark head buried between her thighs as the sweet sensations enveloped her completely. In minutes, her body was shaken by a voluptuous shuddering climax that left her satisfied yet still wanting more.
‘My sweet love,’ Lucius murmured, holding her close, as her body trembled in the aftermath.
‘Please, Lucius.’ She was still hungry for him; she wanted to feel him inside her and her hand reached for his cock. Her fingers closed around it, feeling its swollen strength, as she began to masturbate him gently.
‘No, don’t,’ he said shakily. ‘Or I won’t be capable of anything in a moment.’
She didn’t want him to come just yet; she needed to feel his body thrusting inside her so she pulled her hand away. As he moved his body atop hers, she trembled in anticipation. Then he slid his cock deep into her pussy. It felt so good to have this man inside her, as she savoured the musky scent of his body and felt the heat of his skin seeping into her flesh, while the weight of him pressed down on her belly and hips.
He paused and looked down at her with such tenderness that she could barely breathe for a moment. For the very first time since she had left Brittania, she felt truly safe, locked in this man’s embrace, his penis buried deep inside her.
She knew that he desired her desperately, but he was holding back, trying to be gentle with her. Yet she no longer wanted tenderness, she needed him thrusting into her hard and fast. She pushed her hips upwards and dug her fingers into his shoulders. ‘Fuck me, now,’ she pleaded.
He began to mo
ve, thrusting into her compliant body with deep powerful strokes. She moaned with pleasure, as he increased his pace, angling his body so that, with each sweet stroke, the shaft of his cock brushed her swollen clit. One sensation layered atop another, the build-up slow and exquisite. She felt the first waves spreading through her body, just as she felt his cock twitch. Lucius gave a loud groan followed by an all-encompassing shudder as he came, while at that very same moment a second voluptuous whirlwind of pleasure swept through Sirona as she climaxed once again.
Taranis thought that he heard Poppaea call his name, yet he believed it was all part of the muddled dream he was having, until fingers dug into his shoulders and shook him awake. Surfacing slowly, he forced his eyes open, but for a moment he could see nothing but a faint blur, as they refused to focus. Then he tried to move his arms down from above his head and he felt the hard uncomfortable jerk of chains pulling at his wrists.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision. His head was aching and his thoughts were in confusion. It was morning, judging by the light filtering through the curtains, but he still couldn’t quite remember why his arms were restrained. All too soon, he realised that his legs were held down as well. ‘What in Hades?’ he mumbled thickly.
‘You’re chained hand and foot, Taranis.’ Poppaea was speaking to him.
Painfully, he turned his head and saw her standing near the head of his bed. ‘I don’t –’ His words trailed off, as she moved down the side of his bed and jerked off the thin blanket covering his naked body.
‘I promised to punish you last night and now I am going to.’ She stared down at him as he licked his dry lips uncomfortably. ‘In case you’re wondering, I had the wine that had been left for you, and that you drank so greedily last night, drugged. I wanted some time to decide exactly what I was going to do with you. You didn’t think that you were going to get away with your outrageous behaviour in the pool, did you, slave?’
Taranis swallowed hard; his mouth felt as parched and gritty as the desert of Thebes. Experimentally, he tried to move; the chains were restrictive but not as tight as he had at first presumed them to be. ‘I never really know what to expect with you,’ he admitted in a cracked voice. He coughed as he strained his head back.
Behind his bed there had been a wall hanging but that had been stripped away to reveal two iron rings in the wall, each now holding one of his chains.
‘Here.’ She held a cup of water to his lips and he drank it greedily.
‘Thank you,’ he said, relieved that she was showing some feeling for him. Whatever his punishment was to be, it was likely to be carried out here in his bedchamber, fortunately far away from the sight of the other household slaves. ‘I’m not to be whipped in the forum?’
‘No,’ she snapped. ‘And don’t be so facetious.’
He winced as he felt the sting of a cane hitting his belly and chest.
‘As I told you before, Taranis, you’re an investment. I’ll punish you but I’ve no intention of marking you permanently.’
Sunlight suddenly streamed into the room, as the curtains were pulled open. Taranis blinked again as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and he saw a tall, quite dark-skinned stranger standing by the window. ‘So you need help to punish me, do you?’
‘Even now you dare to speak in a manner not befitting a slave,’ she said coldly. ‘But, as you ask, I’ll tell you, Taranis. I may need help of one kind or another and Africanus is the only person I can trust with this.’ She snapped the end of the cane against the side of his bed. ‘As you know, my tastes run in varied directions and I have no wish for my house slaves to learn of this side of my nature. They gossip far too much for my liking, and I am too kind a mistress to try and force them to hold their tongues by making them fear for their lives.’
‘Too kind by far,’ he mumbled ironically, while wondering uneasily exactly what help this man was intended to provide.
‘Which shall I use on you first? This?’ She held up the cane. ‘Or this?’ She picked up a small whip with knotted strands of very soft leather. It looked as if it was designed to cause pain but not tear the skin.
‘The choice is yours, not mine, my lady.’ Taranis forced himself to stare at Poppaea with surprisingly untroubled blue eyes. Above all else, she wanted him to show fear and he refused to allow her that particular pleasure.
‘Indeed it is.’ She flicked the cane sharply across his chest a couple of times.
This time he was more prepared and he managed not to wince, even though the blows left scarlet weals on his bare flesh.
Using just the tip of the cane, she gently poked his flaccid cock. Taranis felt a flicker of fear slide insidiously up his spine, yet logic told him that Poppaea wouldn’t dream of harming his manhood, because that was what she treasured at present above all else.
‘I want to hear you beg for mercy, slave.’ She tightened her lips, as she put down the cane and picked up the small whip. Expertly, she flicked it across his flat belly. It stung like hell but it didn’t cut his skin.
Taranis clenched his fists. He didn’t cry out and he barely flinched, as she hit him again and again, letting the cruel strands painfully caress his belly and chest. He even managed to hold back his gasp of agony, as the ends of the strands just caught the side of his cock, even though the discomfort was even more intense on this sensitive part of his anatomy.
Immediately, Poppaea paused and frowned. She bent forwards, appearing concerned, as she closely examined his penis. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we turned him over now, Africanus.’
The man stepped forwards and grabbed hold of Taranis. With a grunt, he heaved him on to his side. With another loud grunt and a great deal of effort, Africanus managed to roll Taranis on to his stomach. It was then that Taranis realised why the chains had not been fixed too tight as he felt his arms and legs pulled taut as the chains crossed and shortened.
‘Reaffix the chains holding his ankles. Make sure his legs are held apart,’ Poppaea ordered sharply.
Taranis felt the chains loosen momentarily, as the man unfastened and uncrossed them, before the sharp jerk, as his legs were forced apart when Africanus repositioned them. He twisted his head but, held down like this on his stomach, he couldn’t quite see Poppaea. He waited for the familiar stinging pain of the lash but it didn’t come. Instead, Africanus forced a very thick pillow under his stomach, which kept his belly away from the bed and lifted his buttocks in the air. He felt all too vulnerable, as his flaccid cock fell limply forwards on to the rough linen sheet.
Anticipation like this was not to be favoured, as he had no idea what she was about to do next. He presumed the lash, but he didn’t trust Poppaea; knowing her, it could be just about anything. He thought that he heard her say something to Africanus but he couldn’t make out the whispered words. Then she stepped into his line of vision and he saw that she had removed her loose gown. She appeared unconcerned that she was stark naked in front of Africanus.
‘Do you fuck him too?’ Taranis asked with derision.
Poppaea gave a soft laugh. ‘You’re not jealous, are you, Taranis? I might perhaps if I could but poor Africanus lost his manhood in battle with the Syrians many years ago.’ She looked back at the man. ‘Show him.’
Africanus calmly removed his tunic. His once muscular soldier’s body had softened and turned to fat in places. Taranis barely noticed that, as he stared at one mutilated testicle and nothing else. He’d seen many terrible battle wounds in his time, including missing limbs, but nothing unnerved him quite as much as this. It was every man’s living nightmare. ‘By the gods.’
‘Africanus has adjusted quite well to his change of fortune.’ Poppaea smiled rather indulgently at the stranger. ‘He gets pleasure from watching others and from inflicting pain. Sometimes he even plays the woman’s part.’
‘Acting as a cinaedi,’ Taranis muttered, unable to hide his disgust. ‘He enjoys men fucking him?’
‘He enjoys many things – just as I do.’ Poppaea gently care
ssed Taranis’s muscular buttocks. ‘Don’t decry what you’ve never tried. Think what would have happened if I’d let Gaius purchase you.’
‘I’d have died rather than let him –’ Taranis mumbled.
‘I’d rather you lived,’ she said, as she picked up the whip again, and started to use it on his back and buttocks. She hit him once, twice, any number of times. When the pain increased exponentially, he lost count.
Poppaea paused, she was breathing heavily and he knew that whipping him was arousing her. That he had expected, but what he had not expected was how the sting of the lash had made the blood pound through his veins. The pain had started to magnify, then moments earlier it had changed, becoming almost sexual in its intensity and he’d felt his cock stiffen just a shade.
Gently, she slipped her hand between his legs to caress his balls and stroke his cock very gently. ‘So the pain doesn’t excite you too much, yet?’ she purred. ‘It will, given time.’
He didn’t reply, he didn’t see the point. Taranis was frightened that, if she did continue, a deep dark part of his psyche might even come to welcome the agony. In the past, he’d known men who were aroused by pain and he didn’t want to join that particular fraternity.
He shuddered in surprise, as Poppaea bent to kiss his rear end, caressing his inflamed skin with her lips. Slowly, she ran her tongue into the crack of his buttock cheek. She was still stroking his shaft and, as he felt the moist tip of her tongue circle his anus, his cock started to grow hard and a faint groan of pleasure escaped from his lips. Damn Poppaea to Hades, he thought, as she masturbated him, her hand moving very slowly and deliberately up and down his thick shaft. He wanted to beg her to pump it faster, to fondle his aching balls, and push that teasing little tongue deeper into his anus, but he did not. He just clenched his fists even harder, his muscles tensing, as he pulled against his chains, while he loathed and yet enjoyed the slow sensual movements of her fingers. Taranis was under no illusion here; to be sure, she was arousing him with every intention of exciting him as much as she could. But this was a punishment, so Poppaea wouldn’t let him climax; she’d just tantalise him a while longer, then pull her hand away leaving him screaming for fulfilment.
Barbarian Prize Page 13
