by Shay Savage
“I assist Sergius, the doctor, whenever he needs it,” she said in her soft voice. She stared at our hands clasped against my skin.
“So I have gathered.” I looked down to our entwined hands and noticed some of the blood from my skin had transferred to hers.
“I’ve learned much from him.”
“Such as?” I rubbed my thumb along the edge of her hand, wiping away the red streak.
“How to know when a wound is infected,” she said, “and what to put on it to help it heal. He’s shown me which herbs are good for helping with pain and those that are good for keeping a person healthy.”
“Do you treat many Roman soldiers here?”
“Yes,” she said. “I thought you were going to remain quiet, Tribunus.”
“I thought you were going to call me Faustus.”
“Apologies,” she replied. “Faustus.”
I liked the sound of my name on her lips and fought against the desire to have her call me Lucius. It would have been most improper for a slave to address me in such a way, but the desire to hear my first name spoken with her voice remained.
“You talk,” I said. “I will remain quiet.”
Aia nodded and her fingers twitched in my hand.
“I don’t know where else to begin,” she started, “so I will begin with what I first remember. My earliest memories were of a small house near a wheat farm. There was a terrible drought, and though I didn’t know what it meant at the time, the crops were failing, and my father was very worried. By the autumn harvest, there was little to gather in the fields. I remember a young man who served my father being given to an old man, who lived in a villa on top of the hill, in order to help pay for the things my mother and I needed.”
“The next spring, I woke to hear my mother and father arguing. I didn’t understand most of what was said, but I remember my mother crying and holding me tightly. Later that night, the breadmaker from the market came to the house, and I was taken away."
“You were sold to cover your father’s debts?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“That defies Roman law,” I growled.
She tilted her head toward the ground and closed her eyes, nodding slightly.
“I know,” she responded quietly, “but still, it happened.”
Inside, I fumed. I fought far from the Senate to ensure others upheld the law, and still it was broken in the very cities of the Empire.
Aia paused for a moment before continuing.
“I believe I was around six years of age at that time,” she said. “The breadmaker was a stern man, and he had me work from morning until dusk, carrying flour from the storehouse to the bakery.”
“Stern?” I commented. My heart beat faster in my chest as I considered the true meaning behind the word she chose. Slaves were most cautious about words chosen to describe their masters, even those who no longer owned them. The wrong word meant death. The one she chose was innocuous enough, but the potential, true meaning of it had the muscles in my arms and shoulders tensing. Anger rose from my stomach at the thought that she may have been mistreated by a fucking baker.
“He wasn’t a violent man at all,” Aia said, staring at me. Her eyes widened slightly as she took her hand from mine, reached out and ran a cool cloth over my arm. My muscles relaxed to the touch as she used the cloth to wipe some of the blood away from my chest. “He was merely demanding. I was never harmed by him.”
I blinked, realizing she had read me with highest accuracy, and looked away with annoyance at appearing so transparent. Water in a nearby bowl sloshed as she deposited the soiled cloth inside. A slight touch from her fingers drew my attention to my hand, which she picked up and held in her lap with both of hers.
“I served the breadmaker for several years,” she continued. “I learned how to mix, knead, and bake the bread. I even learned a little about herbs to bring about more pleasing flavors.”
“I would very much like to taste your bread,” I said with a wide grin. I raised my eyebrows as she looked at me and then quickly away again. Such a lovely gesture of shyness; it made my cock fill with blood as color filled her cheeks.
“Perhaps I will have the opportunity to bake for you,” she responded quietly.
More blood flowed to my cock as my thighs and ass clenched at the thought of sampling her…goods. I tasted my own lips with my tongue as I looked at her through slightly hooded eyes. There was something I needed to know.
“You are still quite young,” I remarked. “Has someone taken your maidenhead?”
Aia’s cheeks turned crimson. She moved her eyes to the floor before answering.
“Yes,” she finally said, much to my dismay. I would have enjoyed plucking such a flower, but it would have been near miracle from the gods for a slave girl to remain untouched for long, and Aia was a beautiful girl.
Even through the pain of the sword’s cut, I longed to show her the worth of my cock between her thighs.
II
“I cannot sleep like this,” I insisted. I fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was impossible. Every time I moved, there was more pain.
“You must relax,” Aia said. Her soft hand touched my forearm as she shook her head at me. “Do not try to move.”
I growled under my breath, shook her touch away, and started pushing myself up with one hand. Pain rippled down my side, and my growl changed to a groan. After three days of lying on my back in the same position, every bit of skin that touched the cot below me was raw and sore, and my muscles ached. Between the pain of the stitched wound and the uncomfortable position, I was beyond tired and irritated.
“Faustus!” Aia exclaimed with hurried voice. “You must stay still!”
“I despise being on my back like a whore!” I snapped.
“You’ll inflame your wound,” she said. “How can you heal if you don’t lie still?”
“Assist me, then!” I ordered.
I saw her frustrated glance as she moved from the bench to the other side of the bed. I continued to try to move myself to my side, but the pain was too much. A loud grunt escaped me, and Aia reached out to put her hand on my hip to steady me. At the same time, I reached for her, and as soon as I gripped the edge of her dress with my fingers, her feminine scent was all around me.
Without thought, I grabbed her waist and pulled her down to the bed. My other arm went around her shoulders, and I pressed her young body against mine. For a long moment, our eyes remained locked together—hers widened in surprise and mine heavy with sudden desire. A slight movement was enough for the tip of my nose to brush against hers.
“Perhaps the healing I need can be found between your thighs,” I said quietly.
“Tribunus…” Aia’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. I watched her throat bob up and down as she swallowed, and I reached up to brush her neck with my fingers. She dropped her gaze to my chest, and I moved my hand back around to her ass to pull her closer to me. My hardened cock pressed against her, and her mouth opened with a slight gasp.
“So many months on the battlefield without a woman,” I whispered against her cheek. “Your scent is like strong wine, and I want to drink from you. You intoxicate me.”
“Tribunus…” Her voice trailed off again, and she looked away from me.
“Faustus,” I corrected. Again, the errant thought of her uttering my first name lingered in my mind. I took her chin in my fingers and turned her head toward my face.
“Faustus.” She moved her eyes back towards mine. Her desire was unmistakable, but there was hesitation. “Your wound; I fear you would harm yourself. If you lie quietly, I can still give you the release you need.”
“I may be willing to take the chance if it means burying myself inside of you.” I punctuated the words by pulling her stomach against my shaft. Her blush was my reward. Looking for more, I jerked my hips and pressed my cock further into her stomach.
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 ris
ing from her seat and releasing my 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.
