SexStory2 » Julia of Ancient Rome
JULIA of ANCIENT ROME.
The feast had been vast and stretched way into the night. It was now 6 o’clock and the serving slaves of the evening were thankfully joined by the early rising cleaning drudges. The majority of clearing up had been accomplished but some of these wretches had been constantly on the go for twenty hours. A banquet of this magnitude took much preparation; then there were the serving duties once the guests arrived. It had been 3 in the morning by the time the last guests had left and their Mistress had retired. Then of course came the huge clearing up process. No slave was permitted the luxury of sleep until the hall and kitchens were pristine.
The majority of household slaves were allotted six hours rest and sleeping time. But on an occasion such as this that tended to diminish to far less. Fortunately their owner was likely to sleep into the afternoon, for the consequences of her coming down to anything other than perfection were unthinkable.
Whereas this area had been full of chatter and laughter just a few hours earlier, it was now full of eighty slaves working dourly and in silence. Marcus, a senior slave in the household purveyed the scene and was satisfied all would be back to normal by around 10. The dishes and debris were nearly all moved to the kitchen now and the cleaners could get to their hands and knees to begin the arduous scrubbing task.
In fact two of the women were now making a start; one was a girl of eighteen whose pretty features were already beginning to fade. The other was 45 but a lifetime of hard toil had left her looking twenty years older.
The life of a slave in Ancient Rome was indeed harsh.
It was now past noon And the bulk of the staff were rising again after a couple of hours of welcome sleep. They had finished tidying everything up by 9 and only then were permitted to feed on the scraps of the party. As hungry as they were, fatigue was there primary force so they soon crawled onto the blankets in their quarters. These rough blankets were on concrete floors in small rooms which slept a dozen of them in each.
Upstairs in the main chamber three slaves were yet to sleep. There were the Mistress’s two nightime maids who knelt silently on the floor by her bed. They were on hand in case their owner awoke in the night and required a drink or something. Then there was her night time fan, a huge African who wafted an even larger fan crafted from ostrich feathers. Summertime in Rome was under way, and although his Mistress was of Patrician blood (which was thin) even she required something to cool her during the night.
None of these slaves made a noise, as to wake her was considered a crime bordering on
Fortunately she was still sleeping happily, their Mistress, their reason for living; Julia.
Julia slept with a half smile on her delectable lips, no doubt dreaming of the fun that was had the previous evening. She always slept well, as one of Rome’s wealthiest ladies she had not a worry in the world. How just it was considered that one of such great beauty should have a luxurious and care-free existence. She had fallen asleep the moment she had encountered her silken bed, even before her maid had carefully hung up her splendid gown. It was not lost on the maid that the gown had probably cost Julia far far more than she herself had cost. Therefore she took great care in putting it away, knowing she was more easily replaceable than it.
An hour later Julia awoke, fortunately it was with a smile across her irresistible features. She had taken the grape at the feast but not to excess, however she reached out her perfectly toned arm and one of her maids placed a golden goblet of fresh water into her elegant hand. She drained the cup and handed it back to her slave who bowed her head respectfully.
Julia stretched herself indulgently and rested her head on the palm of her right hand. She thought of the wonderful party and guests of the previous evening and sighed deeply. Inevitably this caused her magnificent breasts to gracefully rise and fall. The fact that she slept naked and was now facing her fan was of no consequence to her. She regarded most of her slaves as animals and so would no more cover herself up than if she was in the presence of a dog. Besides, any slave caught ogling her fine form was brutally whipped, this particular piece of property had been beaten twice for such an offence and was now adequately broken. He simply stared into space as he raised and lowered the fan in order to cool his Mistress.
‘Bath!’ announced Julia, and one of the girls scuttled off to instruct other slaves to prepare her owner’s ablutions. Water had already been heated in anticipation and a chain of slaves toiled to fill the enormous marble bath in quick time. To ensure good time an overseer stood over them with a leather whip in hand. From time to time he gave one or other of them an encouraging lash to increase their swiftness.
In her own good time Julia stirred from her silken bed. She extended her long, beautifully curvaceous legs towards her remaining maid. This maid gathered up her Mistress’s gold spun slippers and carefully slid them onto the gorgeous feet in front of her face. Springing to her legs she first assisted The Lady of the House from her retirement, and then quickly wrapped her in a soft white bathing robe.
Julia proceeded to glide towards her bedroom exit which was opened for her by a door slave. When she had left, her fan dropped to his knees and began to gently sob. In part this was due to the sheer exhaustion he felt from his night’s labour. Moreover it was the pathetic frustration he suffered being at close proximity to such pulchritude.
A half a dozen maids awaited Julia at her bath; all knelt and touched their lips to the marble floor as she entered the vast room. She dismissed her two night slaves with a languid wave of her hand and allowed her principle daytime attendant to remove her slippers. Another girl stooped to retrieve her discarded robe as she entered the pool sized bath.
Julia relaxed in the refreshing hot water and fingered the rose petals as three of the girls soaped and bathed her magnificent figure. These were probably the prettiest slave girls in all of Rome, yet they were no match for their owner. It had been remarked at the Senate that if Julia had been a slave then her price would have been Rome itself.
Having submerged her glorious blonde locks into the water Julia ordered ‘I want music, bring the new boy!’ Within seconds, a harpist arrived and a lad of eleven was thrust into the spotlight. Though nervous, the soprano began to recite a popular song of the day. His voice was indeed wonderful and as he moved onto a classic his Mistress closed her lovely eyes and smiled. The boy had only been at this Great House for a couple of weeks but had already gained status and popularity. Though a slave, he was living a life of relative ease, eating prepared food rather than leftovers and resting a deal of the time.
It was best that he made the most of this life, for it would only be a year or two before his voice began to break. Unbeknownst to him, his predecessor now toiled in The Mistress’s silver mine a few miles out from Rome. Here he would labour for the rest of his short life. His crime; nature, and the inability to amuse his Mistress any longer. But for now she enjoyed the angelic voice of this newcomer and had all but forgot about the sopranos from before.
Assisted by her slaves, Julia rose from her bath and stepped towards the adjoining steam room. Here waited her masseuse and masseur who helped her onto the large leather massage bed. She lay supine and permitted the masseuse to begin gently rubbing oils into her sublime body. She sighed as the petite hands of her slave worked in sweet smelling substances from around the world.
In time the masseur took over giving Julia a much firmer massage. This brought a happy laughter from his Mistress who was evidently enjoying his ministrations. He manipulated the perfectly toned back muscles for all he was worth as he knew his life depended on satisfying this mortal Venus.
As she turned onto her back, both slaves joined in this most pleasant of tasks, the girl caressing her lovely breasts and the male kneading her splendid thighs. The dual ministrations aroused Julia’s sexuality and she contemplated sending for a pleasure slave or two. In a while she thought to herself and not in here it’s too hot. So she relaxed and allowed her slaves to continue their skilful duet amongst the steam.
A floor below this steam was being created by two beasts of burden. Here in the furnace two male slaves shovelled coal onto a roaring fire, goaded on by an overseer and his whip. This was indeed the most arduous of positions in the Great House. The slaves sweat profusely and were covered in coal stain.
The life was hard enough for one of them, a Thracian born into slavery, but for the other it was unbearable beyond belief. He had been born a free Roman and had in fact been a citizen of considerable wealth. Two years earlier he had, through mutual friends, met Julia and like so many others fallen hopelessly in love. He had tried to court her, to make her his wife, but to no avail. She was of such strong independence that to her this was simply a dalliance.
When she bored of him he became desperate, pleading to have some part in her life. He then took the notion that even her slaves were better off than he. The ones he had observed had got to serve her, massage her, at the very least view her regularly and hear that sweet, soft voice. And so in a valiant pit of desperation he begged to become one of them. Julia, by no means a cruel woman, tried to dissuade him, but he grovelled at her feet and begged the opportunity.
She succumbed and the process was legalised in a few days. His estate was sold and his slaves became hers. He entered her house as her legal property and was sure he was doing the right thing. Particularly when he noticed a former bondsman of his fanning her. ‘Oh to spend untold hours in her presence like this’, he thought to himself.
They had held him down to brand him as Julia’s property and it had hurt more than he could have possibly imagined. But through his tears he saw the beautiful smiling face of the one he loved and was convinced. With a perfect slender finger, she pointed at him and said just two words, ’take him!’ He was led, almost dragged to the furnace room, a true hell on earth.
He was worked worse than an animal and never allowed from these awful compounds. He learnt the true meaning of slavery, and worst of all from that day to this he had never again set eyes on Julia.
In a sub section of her bath area Julia was enjoying herself immensely. Between her long luscious legs was her favourite slave of pleasure. A slim, brown haired youth she had bought a year earlier. He had on him a particularly large penis, but what had attracted her more was the fact that he was stone deaf. This meant he would not be able to hear her moans and cries whilst he was in use. And of course he certainly was not there for conversation.
To further tailor him to her own requirements, Julia had, had him circumcised and blinded. In the couple of weeks she had left him to ‘heal’ she wondered whether she had gone a step too far. After all a pleasure slave had to have at least enough attraction to produce a full blooded erection. She knew her voice could deliver this from any blind man and her beauty from any man deaf. Yet with both senses nullified would her allure shine through.
She, of course had no need to concern herself. Her fragrant smell, her soft heavenly skin were enough to drive any male into a passionate frenzy.
Her three favourite maids were also in attendance; one was resting at her feet having tongued her into a ready state. The other two knelt each side of, her each sucking on a perfectly formed nipple to add to her stimulation. And thrusting away inside of her was her creation, Thomassio.
And thrust he did, long probing stabs which had his Mistress crying out in pleasure. Thomassio had, with the use of the whip, been trained to have enormous staying power and he needed it. Julia was a living paradox. On one hand she demanded long sessions of penetration but on the other she was so sexually magnetic that most men lost control very quickly.
Thomassio was different, he drove and drove his organ into this physical paradise until finally his Mistress stiffened, shuddered and ‘relaxed’ in ecstasy all over him. He remained within her, on the very cusp of orgasm himself, not daring to breathe. Unbeknownst to him, Julia was going through a catalogue of almost song like noises and beauteous facial expressions above him. The first he knew the maid had her hands on his shoulders and he slowly withdrew from his Goddess.
Still breathing heavily Julia surveyed the creature in front of her. She stared into brown eyes which couldn’t stare back. What a fabulous piece of property she mused. She clicked her fingers at her maid who stood aside him, ‘go, go with him girl and take his seed into your mouth, he has performed well.’
The maid bowed and gave a respectful ‘yes Mistress’ before leading Thomassio to his quarters.
Julia lay back and relaxed, a smile playing on her delectable lips. She would soon bathe again prior to having her hair and body dressed. But for now she relaxed, enjoying the moment. ‘What a lovely start to the day’ she thought to herself.
An hour later and Julia was enjoying a light lunch in her main living area. At her feet knelt a slave holding up a large golden salver adorned with fruit, sweetmeats and a goblet of chilled juice of orange? She picked idly at the food, a couple of grapes, a bite or two at a peach; she wasn’t really hungry.
With her was her accountant, Abraham, who was here to advise about her new purchase a copper mine in Acilia, some ten miles south west of Rome. ‘It is a mine of huge resource Great Lady,’ he suggested, ‘but until now slow to yield. This is why the price was so reasonable.’
‘Slow to yield, then surely we need to work the slaves harder. I can’t abide laziness!’ she declared as she allowed a slave to wipe peach juice off of her precious hand with a damp cloth. ‘I’m visiting Ostia with my friend Clodia tomorrow; we shall stop off and view this purchase.’
‘A very wise decision, Great Lady,’ replied her freedman obsequiously.
‘And if it doesn’t turn out to be profitable, I shall return you to slavery in the flap of a butterfly’s wing, do you understand?’
‘Yes Mistress, of course Great One,’ blurted a worried Abraham.
‘Now you may go, I’m off to the forum soon.’ The former slave stood bowed and departed as he heard his client order her litter to be prepared.
As Julia stepped outside her palatial home she shielded her shimmering blue-green eyes from the sun with her delicate hand. It was June and beginning to get very hot and so a fan followed her to her awaiting litter. A short slave prostrated himself to the ground to enable his Mistress to step from his back into the sumptuous carriage. Here she sat whilst a maid-slave removed her sandals. This girl, who had never worn footwear in her life, would follow the litter carrying her Mistress’s shoes.
Julia relaxed on the velvet and silk cushioned bed as the eight bearers took a grip of their burden and lifted it to their shoulders. Of the eight, seven were exactly 5 foot 5 in height and of a sturdy build. The eighth was of similar build but an inch or two taller. This meant he had to stoop a little to ensure perfect comfort for his Mistress’s travel.
A few days earlier a litter slave had stumbled on a pothole badly wrenching his ankle. More importantly it had shaken the carriage wakening Julia who was having such a pleasant dream at the time. Suffice to say this slave was now chained in The House punishment chamber and though he would live, he would never again be fit to bear a litter.
The trip to the forum was relatively short and so not at all unpleasant for Julia. The slaves had sweated up a little as the afternoon sun was so strong, but that was of no consequence. Julia allowed her maid to refasten the soft leather sandals to her impeccable feet before alighting her vehicle via the back of her step slave.
In addition to her fan another slave held a large parasol above her head to ensure the sun’s rays didn’t affect her perfect skin. Along with a couple of guards and a maid they took a slow walk through the market. It was quite late afternoon now yet still there was the hustle and bustle of market life. Sellers shouting of their wears, citizens gossiping and the odd child playing.
To ensure plenty of walking space, one of her guards shouted; ‘make way for The Great Lady Julia!’ This had the desired affect as Rome was a very class structured society and they didn’t come much higher than Julia. All before her moved aside but they couldn’t stop themselves viewing this legendary beauty.
She idly perused the items on a couple of stalls, buying on impulse a navette cut diamond ring. It cost two thousand denari, which was more than a citizen from the lower order might earn in a lifetime, but she liked it. Chances were it would end up in one of her trinket cases never to see the light of day again, but she liked it.
The group wandered past the other stalls, Julia was regularly visited by the top merchants in Rome so had little need to shop publicly. As they walked a bedraggled young boy accidentally ran into her path, causing her to stop. In an instant the child’s mother had grabbed him. She looked up to see who the boy had disturbed and instantly dropped to her knees. With tears in her eyes she begged, ‘please, please Great Lady, please forgive us.’
Julia looked down at the woman, no-one in Rome would have had any misgivings if she had, had the child punished. No-one would have questioned her had she done so. Yet she enjoyed the look of fear and pleading in the woman’s eyes, so smiled indulgently and walked past.
Finally they came to the slave stall. The proprietor immediately rushed towards her and bowed lowly, ‘Great Lady, please may I have the honour of serving you this fine day?’
‘Perhaps,’ mused Julia, not bothering to look at him. She glanced up the line of slaves on show.’ You are to come to my house on Friday; I am going to require some mine fodder!’
‘Oh yes Great One, how many will you want? May I ask?’
‘I don’t know yet, but it shall probably be a lot. And I’ll want fresh slaves at least three years work in them!’
‘Yes Great Lady, we have a shipment in very soon, I will of course save the best for you.’
Julia was ignoring him now as she viewed the show slaves. One was quite handsome and so she wandered up to him and fingered his description tag which hung around his neck. The slave swallowed hard and averted his eyes from this incredible beauty. Her wonderful scent entered his nose as she read that he was a body slave and actor. She ran an exquisite fingernail down his chest and asked the proprietor, ‘this one, is he broken?’
‘Oh yes Great Lady, like a tame dog.’
Julia smiled cruelly and licked her divine lips. As she opened her precious mouth the slave smelt her wonderful sweet breath and despite himself began to form an erection. Noticing his swelling she commented, ‘not completely broken it would seem.’
The salesman interjected, ‘if I may permit myself Great Lady, I doubt he has ever come across such beauty in a woman before now. You could always have him neutered if it pleases you Great Lady.’
‘No, no. No need for that, my men are very adept at completely breaking a slave, in fact it amuses me to watch one being trained to my liking.’ She walked along the line of slaves until she came to a shorter muscular slave. Towering above him a thought entered her mind. Clicking her fingers at one of her guards, she ordered, ‘go, quickly and fetch one of my litter slaves!’
The guard nodded his head and left. Julia felt the biceps of the slave before her and asked the seller, ‘is he as strong as he looks?’
‘Oh yes indeed Great Lady, if anything stronger.’
Julia stepped back and instructed, ‘very well, lets see, put a whip across his back!’
The other slaves shuffled out of harms way as the seller picked up a bullwhip. Keen to make a sale he cracked it across the slave’s back at full force. The recipient clenched his teeth but did not cry out.
Julia smiled and murmured, ‘one more.’
Again he struck the item for sale with true force. Again the slave merely winced. Julia smiled, ‘and how much is this one?’
The seller laid down his whip and suggested, ‘Oh, I could let you have him for four hundred Dinari Madam.’
Pointing at the slave who had caught her fancy before she asked, ‘and that one?’
‘Him, well he is very cultured, I couldn’t let him go for less than eight hundred, Supreme One!’
Julia pouted her lips and looked at some other merchandise until her guard returned with the litter bearer. Pointing at the slave she had, had whipped, Julia instructed her guard, ‘place him alongside that one!’
The two were almost a perfect match in height and build which caused Julia to smile, ‘very well merchant, I shall give you a thousand Dinari for the two of them, this one and the boy who can’t control himself.’
The proprietor was about to haggle, as was his nature, but thought better of it, ‘of course Great Lady.’ He submitted.
‘Oh,’ she remarked, ‘and could you throw in a yoke to get them home?’
Once more aware of the bigger picture, the salesman nodded and soon the two purchases were joined together with a heavy, splintered wooden yoke.
The party made its way back to the litter with the new slaves at the rear. Their height difference made it very uncomfortable for both of them as one’s head was craned backwards and the other’s forward. But of course this was of no concern of their new owner.
Arriving at her litter, Julia again used her step to enter her carriage. She allowed her maid to remove her sandals and in no time they were heading for home.
Evening had fallen over Rome and Julia’s special guest had arrived. The Lady Clodia held a social status almost as high as her hostess. Thus being, two lines of thirty slaves awaited her entrance on their knees. She stepped gracefully out from her litter and as she glided into the Great House each slave touched their foreheads to the ground as she walked past them.
Clodia, accustomed to such obsequious behaviour, totally ignored them. However she certainly didn’t ignore the embrace of her hostess, Julia. She was led towards a couch where one waiting slave removed her shoes whilst another offered her a goblet of wine. A fan immediately took up position behind her, ensuring the redhead was comfortable.
‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it last night my darling,’ pronounced the honourable visitor.
‘Don’t worry my dear,’ replied her hostess, ‘you’re here now, that’s the main thing. Are you hungry?’ without waiting for an answer she snapped her fingers for food to be served.
The very best food in Rome was served on gold platters, oysters and snails, quails and larks, fava beans, asparagus and lupins. Clodia ate sparingly; she was a particularly slim Lady and did no work to produce a great appetite. The slaves serving her were not stupid and could see that they would eat well later on her leftovers. Even quail meat spat back upon a dish looked appetising to a hungry slave.
The Ladies chattered about recent events, in all there were thirty people in this great hall but only two of them spoke. The others served in total respect and silence.
A pair of acrobats were brought on to entertain the high born Ladies but were more or less ignored. They began to discuss tomorrow’s trip, ‘yes the mine is practically along the way,’ Julia informed, ‘we won’t stay there long, then it’s off to the gladiator school of Ostia.’
‘Wonderful,’ replied Clodia, ‘shall we see contests?’
‘Of course my sweet, I shall insist upon it.’
Clodia smiled, despite her delicate pale skinned beauty she was quite a cruel young woman who enjoyed seeing slaves suffer. This was not seen as unusual in Rome, hence the popularity of the games. Knowing what pleased her guest, Julia clicked her fingers and ordered her new purchases to be brought before them.
Here they were restrained and branded with the mark of Julia. Clodia smiled sweetly as she witnessed the look of pure fear, then agony in their eyes. Julia preferred the look of Clodia’s smile as her green eyes sparkled and her perfect cheek bones were pronounced.
The new litter slave was taken back to the stable where he was to sleep; the other still had some entertainment value to offer. His wrists were secured to a beam leaving his feet about six inches from the ground. ‘This one,’ Julia informed her guest, ‘needs to learn some self control’. Smiling, she nodded to the overseer.
This overseer drew back a long thick leather whip along the floor. The slave began to tremble in fear. And then the first stroke landed with incredible might across the top of his back. He let out a cry of pain and anguish which brought amused smiles from both Ladies. Again the whip fell, lower, but still producing a loud yelp from its victim. Witnessing this, gave Clodia’s appetite a boost and she picked at sweetmeats offered her by a slave.
The whipping continued and the new slave began to beg for mercy. Julia suggested to her friend, ‘I think that’s probably enough don’t you?’
With an irresistible pout, Clodia asked, ‘oh just a little more!’
How could Julia not indulge such a request, smiling, she nodded to her overseer who methodically went back to work on his victim.
Eventually, fifty strokes had been landed from the top of the slave’s back to the middle of his legs. He was now unconscious and fortunately Clodia’s thirst had been quenched. The slave was dragged off to his quarters to be replaced by the boy soprano, who began to sing.
Clodia commented, ‘he’s new, what became of the last one?’
Julia replied honestly, ‘I really can’t remember my darling. I really couldn’t care!’
As the two noble Ladies were to rise early the next day they retired early. As a slave replaced Julia’s slippers she informed her guest, ‘The main guest room is prepared for you Clodia.’
Clodia smiled wantonly, ‘oh no, I think I’ll come in with you!’
The following day saw both Ladies in good spirits, though having only slept eight hours Julia was a little tetchy. She was a gracious enough host however, to only take this out on her slaves.
They had bathed together and were now being prepared for their excursion. Slaves brushed and dressed their hair as they lay comfortably on couches. Also on hand were slaves to file and paint their finger and toenails. As was usual they chattered to each other, ignoring those who laboured on their behalf.
The slaves knew time was of the essence and so carried out their tasks as quickly as they could. The girl brushing Julia’s hair regretted this as this was such an enjoyable task. Hair so soft, so long, so fair. It made her existence seem worthwhile to perform such a glorious duty.
Julia nonchanently examined the nails of her lovely left hand. Satisfied, she snapped her fingers in the face of the girl responsible and gestured for her to begin on her right. It was then that girl filing her toenails slipped slightly and grazed the toe of her owner. Julia lashed her foot into the face of the frightened girl who fell backwards. ‘Clumsy fool, seize her!’ A guard rushed to arrest the tearful slave.
On examination it was apparent that the skin on the toe was not broken, in fact to state there was a graze would have been an overstatement. However this was not enough to save the girl, ‘take her downstairs,’ ordered Julia calmly, ‘I want her flogged every day for a week!’ The guard bowed and dragged the distraught slave to her fate.
‘Are you alright darling?’ enquired a sympathetic Clodia.
‘Ah yes I suppose so. To be honest,’ she laughed, ‘I probably hurt my foot more kicking the little slut than anything.’
They both laughed gaily as a replacement was put to Julia’s feet. ‘Poor Julia,’ smiled Clodia, ‘The Gods should be kinder to one so fair.’
Presently the wonderful aristocrats were dressed and jewelled. Clodia wore a fabulous light green dress. She was though surpassed by Julia who was regally attired in red and golden silks.
The two litters left on the hour of eleven towards Julia’s new copper mine. It was a little later than had been decided so there was to be no rest along the way. This first part of the journey was about ten miles and Julia wanted to make it in just over two hours. The increased speed was quite advantageous as it created a little breeze for the Ladies on what was already a very hot day.
An hour into the trip and the litter slaves were beginning to sweat up quite badly, but fortunately the Ladies, with their goblets of chilled pomegranate juice were quite comfortable. Their litters were carried side by side so that they could still talk to one and other. As the slaves began to struggle beneath their burden they heard only the chatter and laughter of their owners.
The caravan arrived at the mine almost to time. The shifts were about to swap over so Julia had an opportunity to view her acquired live stock.
The mine worked on a two shift system around a hundred men on each. They each worked six hours on, six hours off, throughout every single day of every week of every all the year. And now a hundred waited their fate for the next six hours at the copper mine’s entrance. Normally they would have been aloud to eat rest and sleep during this time but instead they had been put to work clearing the ground near the pit so as their new owner wouldn’t encounter any loose stones.
They looked harrowed, thin with stained skin. They were as naked as the day they were born as even loin cloths were deemed an unnecessary investment. They had no dignity, no hope, no spirit.
As Julia and Clodia walked towards the mine the foreman came trotting over to them and bowed lowly to his new employer, ‘welcome Great Lady!’ he declared in a respectful tone.
As they came closer to the men Clodia remarked, ‘by the Gods, they look just like animals!’
Her friend replied, ‘they are animals my darling, nothing more.’
The ladies laughed which caused some of the men to look up towards them. Many of them had never heard laughter before and most had never seen women like this. Women yes, there were a handful of slave women who worked the kitchen on site, but never any of such quality. An overseer cracked his whip at them and roared, ‘eyes down!!’ which they obeyed fearfully.
They now began to pull ropes on pulleys and cages appeared at the opening carrying a score of men in each. As these men filed out they were replaced by their counterparts who were lowered to the depths of the planet to begin their toil. The whole swap over took just a few minutes and the replaced men tried to shield their eyes from the bright sun.
The Ladies were still some thirty yards from them and Julia spoke to her foreman, ‘fetch one of them here!’
‘At once Great Lady,’ he answered, jogging down to retrieve the first one he saw.
As he returned to his betters with the slave, Clodia exclaimed,’ oh my, he stinks to high heaven!’
Julia agreed and they both took out scented handkerchiefs which they put to their elegant noses. ‘Have him kneel,’ ordered Julia and the foreman pushed him to his knees before his new owner. ‘How long has he been here?’ she asked.
‘About eight years.’
The slave was very thin and oh so weary looking. ‘Are you sure his production merits his food bill?’ enquired Julia.
‘Well’ replied the foreman, ‘some of them are better than others Ma’am, we can’t overwork the likes of him or he’ll just die on us.’
Julia nodded at once comprehending the situation. ‘Well from now on you’ll work them all the same. It makes far better sense to work a slave to death than have the wretch living off me, do you understand?’
‘I’ll have new stock by next week, strong slaves, they’re all to be worked to the maximum, I’m not a charity. And you,’ she spoke directly to the foreman, ‘are you free or freed?’
‘Freed Ma’am, for some ten years now.’
‘Good, if output isn’t doubled by the end of next month I’ll have you down there with the rest of them!’
The foreman bowed his head into his chest and replied in a frightened whisper ‘yes Ma’am.’
Julia turned to her friend, ‘come Clodia, let’s get away from this awful smell.’
Clodia held her friend’s hand and they left the scene for their waiting litters.
A couple of hours later, the litters of the two aristocrats were approaching the Gladiatorial school of Ostia. The Lanista came out of his house to greet them as they stepped out of their carriages. ‘By The Gods,’ he exclaimed ‘I have heard tell of your beauty Ladies, but never imagined it would be quite so incredible!’
Julia smiled condescendedly and entered his house with her friend. Here they sat and accepted chilled wine from a slave they didn’t bother to look at. Slaves sprang, as if from nowhere, to fan them, grapes were offered on a silver platter.
The Lanister, a talkative man, remained on his feet and enquired, ‘your journey, was it a hard one your nobilities?’
‘Yes,’ replied Julia for both of them, it was exhausting. I trust you have something for us to view to make it worth our while?’
‘Oh of course Great Lady Julia, I have a superb supply at present, in fact I’ve taken the liberty of choosing you two pairs to fight to the death.’
‘No, no, no!’ insisted Julia, ‘we shall do our own choosing, you just display all you have got.’
The Lanister looked a trifle hurt but shrugged, ‘your word is my will Lady Julia. Though it will take a while to get them all prepared.’
‘That’s not an issue Lanister; we could use a little rest first anyway.’
In a while, some time after the Ladies had been properly taken care of a house slave came and led the two teams of litter slaves to the stables. Here they sat on straw and drank water greedily from a trough. They were all truly exhausted having covered twenty miles in less than five hours under the beating sun. They did not speak, but sat alone with their thoughts. After a couple of minutes the new slave began to cry. None of the others bothered to look at him.
Fully refreshed, Julia and Clodia followed the Lanister towards the school’s gladiators. Behind them trailed slaves holding up parasols and fanning them. A fifth slave carried a large lead jug of wine.
As they approached the solemn looking warriors Clodia giggled, ‘Oh Julia they’re delicious.’
Though slaves, these men were not entirely broken as befitted their roles. Therefore they were positioned behind a set of bars. The Ladies stood up close to these bars and inspected their intended prey. In all there were thirty men, all with overtrained bodies. Clodia walked up and down grinning and searching for something to her taste.
Julia was more reserved, she stood still and pointed at one, clicking her fingers she ordered ‘bring that one here!’
The school’s trainer pushed the youthful Gaul to where Julia was standing. Nervous, he cast his eyes down towards her feet. Unfortunately even they were so attractive he felt trapped, particularly when her luxurious scent wafted towards him. She looked him up and down, all the time stroking her perfect lips with her tongue. ‘You,’ she spoke to him softly but with utter confidence, ‘are you prepared to die for my amusement?’
He swallowed at his Adam’s apple but answered in broken Latin, ‘yes Mistress, it would be an honour.’
Julia smiled cruelly, she turned to Clodia but then something caught her eye, ‘that one, here!’ Another Gaul was brought besides the first and Clodia immediately saw what her friend was thinking. They looked so similar.
‘These two, Julia asked, ‘are they related, are they from the same litter?’
The Lanister replied, ‘yes indeed Lady, but of course we couldn’t expect them to fight each other.’
Julia spoke harshly, ‘I shall decide what we could or couldn’t except. Match them!’
The two brothers looked at each other in desperation; the Lanister looked forlorn but conceded, ‘whatever pleases you Great One.’
‘Clodia,’ called Julia, ‘choose which one is yours,’
Clodia gracefully wandered up to the distraught pair, smiling all over her sculptured features. ‘Mmmm, oh I don’t know Julia they’re so similar,’ she giggled. ‘Oh very well, that one,’ so saying she pointed at the younger brother. With no understanding, let alone pity for the pair’s plight she moved on to view others.
Julia smiled smugly, these creatures were strong, powerful men, yet she held the power of life and death over them and they knew it.
Her attention was drawn away by her friend’s commanding voice, ‘I’ll have that one!’
She’d chosen a tall Ethiopian, who at face value looked undefeatable. Julia continued to inspect the others looking for a fourth to complete their amusement. It was then she found herself face to face with a Briton who had the audacity to look her straight in the eye. Julia was momentarily shocked but soon recaptured her feeling of complete superiority, ‘You insolent dog!’ she declared ‘How dare you raise an eye to me.’
In an instant the trainer was over lashing him with his whip. As stubborn as this slave was, the heavy blows brought him slowly to his knees. Seeing this Julia regained her composure and decided, ‘I’ll have this one.’
The Lanister was somewhat pained that his two greatest assets were to fight one and other, ‘perhaps,’ he thought, ‘they will fight so well the Ladies will show mercy’. But he had trouble convincing even himself.
Having chosen their toys of death the noble Ladies made their way back inside. The unselected gladiators were sent back to their quarters. The four chosen slaves remained outside under the, still hot, sun, alone with their thoughts. The last thing they heard was the sound of laughter from those who had just placed them under the ‘Sword of Damocles.’
Back inside both Ladies reclined imperiously on couches as a handsome young slave served them fresh wine. As he poured into Clodia’s goblet she idly ran her hand up his tunic skirt and began to squeeze his upper thigh. He stood motionless with head bowed like a dumb animal until she had finished. Nonchanently waving her hand at the boy she addressed The Lanister, ‘I like this boy, I’ll buy him.’
The boy struggled to hide his anguish. He had lived in this home all of his life along with his mother and sister. He looked up at the Lanister in despair. His master though was always keen to turn a profit, ‘buy him, Lady Clodia, how much were you thinking?’
Instead of answering, Clodia peeled a ring from her little finger and tossed it to The Lanister. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘that should cover it.’ The ring had been a gift from an unrequited admirer.
The Lanister looked at it swiftly and wasted no time in accepting, ‘Certainly, Lady Clodia, he’ll be waiting at your litter.’
Clodia gave a superior smile and nodded as Julia turned to more pressing matters; ‘the two brothers they will fight in different colours. Mine shall wear red and Clodia’s blue!’
‘Of course Your Ladyship,’ answered The Lanister, ‘and the other pair?’
‘Them,’ she smiled at Clodia, ‘oh I think we’ll have them fight naked.’
The Lanister looked a little surprised but shrugged, ‘whatever you say, of course.’
The viewing gallery had been prepared and now accommodated its most high-born of visitors. In addition to Julia and Clodia there were four slaves. Two males to fan the Ladies and two females to serve.
The unusually small audience reclined on sumptuous couches, Julia with her lovely head resting on her left palm and Clodia with hers resting on her right. The divans were positioned so that there heads were fairly close to each others. At their feet knelt one of the girls holding a silver platter of fruit, nuts and sweetmeats. The wine slave stood to the side holding her jug and bowing her head submissively. All in all a very comfortable set up. It was as though the entire world was enslaved so that two Noblewomen could take their pleasures.
The moment had arrived and the trainer led out the two brothers of Gaul, both with short swords and shields. Their armour was limited and as instructed the younger wore a blue tunic and the elder red. The arena was in complete silence for the start of the contest. The combatants stood three yards apart and looked up at The Royal Box.
Teasing them, Julia waited a few moments but then raised her perfectly toned right arm. She surveyed the scene once more, before audibly snapping her slender fingers to begin the contest.
The brothers were at first tentative, flashing swords which were only ever going to clash with metal.
Julia, who had now taken up a goblet of wine in her right hand, soon became impatient. As if sensing this trainer came up and prodded viciously at the slave clad in red and shouted, ‘fight or you’ll both die on the cross!’
Despite themselves this stirred both men into action. The slave in red slashed his sword against the arm of his brother, drawing first blood. This motivated the wounded who after a parry of swords caused a flesh wound across the chest of the other.
This had the desired effect on the aristocrats watching, as Julia began to gently tongue her luscious lips and Clodia gorged on a peach.
Upon the sand of the arena, blood was beginning to flow freely. Both slaves wore gashes and the end was near. Though their love of each other was strong, so too was the will to survive. In an uncontrolled frenzy the blue tunicked gladiator lashed and lashed again at his opposition. However, despite being younger the red slave had acquired more skill in his time at the school and manoeuvred himself superbly. Within a blink of an eyelid he had spotted an overstretched sword and smashed it from the other’s grip.
‘This is better!’ smirked Julia through perfect teeth. Though Clodia’s ‘pick’ seemed to be having the worse of it they were both enjoying the titillation of the spectacle before them.
The blue slave now tried desperately to block his enemy’s charges with his shield. Though successful in this, he had exposed his legs and on seeing the opportunity the red animal kicked away at them with all his might. The blue went tumbling down to the sand, his shield flying afar.
Julia laughed out loud in delight, Clodia, knowing she was beat still allowed a smile to add tantalising apparel to her Patrician features.
The slave in red now cornered the other, his sword close to the chest of his victim. He looked up to his betters, his Mistresses, the owners of his soul.
Julia took a leisurely sip of her wine and handed the goblet to the waiting slave. She raised her right arm once again and flexed her bejewelled fingers. Then she passed judgement, thrusting her thumb downwards in complete authority.
The slave in red saw her through a haze of sweat and now tears. He looked at his opponent, his victim and realised once again he was his brother. Filled with agonising anguish he let out a battle cry and pieced the heart of his sibling with his sword.
Both Ladies laughed and clapped their hands. Two men had entered the arena, yet only one would leave it alive. The victor fell to his knees and began to weep as he realised what he had done. At that moment he would have gladly swapped places with his brother. The arena was no place for sentiment though and in moments the trainer’s assistants were on hand to drag away the bleeding corpse. They had to return to drag off the ‘victor’ who was trailed through the blood stains of the vanquished. The last sound he heard was the gay laughter of Julia and her friend.
‘Ha ha ha,’ chided Julia. ‘I think I win darling!’
‘Very well,’ Clodia retorted gently, ‘that’s five dinari I owe you.’
The Ladies were by no means gamblers hence the low stake. They had only bet each other to lend interest to the proceedings. Clodia clicked her fingers at the wine stewardess who carefully replenished her goblet. Julia observed the slave girl at her feet. For a slave, the girl was exceptionally pretty, She was no match for Julia, but was exceptionally pretty all the same.
Julia plucked a grape from her tray, crushing it within her ravishing mouth she swallowed the flesh and spat the pip onto the ground. ‘Eat it!’ she commanded the girl ,who stooped her head to the floor and lapped up the discarded seed. Julia smiled smugly as she observed the slave feed on her waste.
Next was the ‘main show of the early evening’. The Ethiopian and the Briton came out from there cage, naked ‘cept for their weapons. The black carried a long tri-fork and net, the white a sword and shield.
The Ladies giggled as they observed the additional ‘equipment’ which dangled freely between the legs of the fresh entertainment. Again the two stood apart and looked up at the decider of their fate. Again Julia raised the arm which kings had knelt and begged to hold. She viewed the fighting dogs awaiting her signal and gave Clodia a swift but passionate kiss on the lips. Once more she clicked her delectable fingers and battle commenced.
This time there was no preliminaries to the bout. Though both men had lived, ate and shit together for three years survival was their only concern. Within the first couple of minutes, concerted attacks were met only by skilful defences.
The Ladies were so engrossed with the ballet of violence that they failed to notice a ‘happening’ at their feet. The girl holding the salver of titbits had craned her head to quickly catch sight of events in the arena. What she had seen caused her mouth to drop open in fear and fright. Brenus, her mate, her true love, her man was on the sand battling for his very life with Atanga, the undisputed crème of the crop.
She managed to turn her head back to the feet of Julia before being noticed but now her stomach churned with dread. Above her, one of the most powerful women in Rome was in raptures of delight. Only her high class upbringing prevented Julia from shouting out now as each man cut and thrust for all he was worth.
The two fine specimens down below, were fighting with utter venom. Each perfectly trained for battle and each desperate to cling on to life. Atanga was undoubtedly the stronger, yet Brenus’s tenacity made him a fine match. At one point he had his opponent on the ground but the African’s agility enabled him to roll and regain his feet.
After two more blood letting flurries the move came which signalled the beginning of the end. In an attempt to get inside the reach of his longer limbed rival, Brenus got his feet trapped within Atanga’s net. The Ethiopian wrenched his net with all his considerable power and the Briton tumbled ungracefully to the ground, banging his head in the process.
Julia was delighted, by default her token wager may have been on the Briton, but what she so desired was to see this upstart of a slave get his just desserts.
Brenus had lost his sword and shield and now Atanga moved in on him with his tri fork aimed at his torso. The African, who was breathing heavily, looked up to those who ‘pulled his strings’.
Clodia was laughing and cheering, Julia was smiling vivaciously. The slave at her feet looked round to witness her love at the complete mercy of his opponent and this Lady she served. With abandonment she threw her face and hands to Julia’s feet, ‘please Majesty,’ she begged, ‘please spare him!’
Julia was taken aback. She looked down to see this slave grovelling at her feet; her sharp mind calculated the situation at once. ‘Ah,’ she enquired, ‘are you this slave’s slut then girl?’
‘Yes Mistress,’ she answered blubbering, ‘please spare him Your Greatness I would do anything!’
Ordinarily Julia would not have tolerated being spoken to in this manner. However it leant an appealing bent to proceedings so she declared; ‘stand up slave, tell him to beg for mercy!’
The girl scrambled to her feet and called out to the man she considered to be her husband; ‘Brenus, life is everything, please beg this Great Lady for your life!’
Brenus was a proud man, a man who had refused to submit his entire life. As he lay there waiting his fate he wanted to at least die with dignity. This call from the woman he loved though. It touched his heart and turned his mind. At this moment, all he desired was life; he turned his face up to the royal box and cried, ‘Please, please Great Mistress, please, I beg you spare me!’
Julia licked her lips and grinned broadly. An hour ago this slave had, had the sheer impertinence to stare her in the eyes. Now he was grovelling in the sand begging her for mercy. How Just, how proper, how delicious!
She looked down upon the men who had fought for her entertainment and raised her arm. All she was showing was her soft pale palm. The girl, weeping, had her eyes and heart set on Brenus. Everyone else though watched Julia. Clodia, who wanted the amusement of seeing a slave die. The Lanister who stood to lose an investment should he die. Atanga, who waited to see if he must murder a man who had fought so well. And Brenus, who had let go of a lifetime of pride and honour to beg for his life.
It was Clodia who first spotted what was to happen, She saw a sparkle in her friend’s diamond coloured eyes, a smile on her lips she knew so well, a look of utter superiority.
Julia curled her lovely fingers, sighed with pleasure, and thrust her judicial thumb downwards.
Atanga swallowed hard, took one step and violently ended the life of Brenus.
Brenus’s woman collapsed in distraught tears and was carried off by a guard. Clodia and in particular Julia lay soaking up the scene. They kissed, both accepting that the effort of the journey had been worthwhile afterall. The Lanister entered the box and asked, ‘was that to your satisfaction Great ladies?’
‘Charming,’ replied Julia, ‘we shall certainly come again.’
‘Thank you so much, you are always so welcome in this house. And just to finish the entertainment off, I have taken the liberty of hiring a singer of songs for you whilst you take refreshments.’
‘Very good Lanister, though there is one other thing….’
Back in the main hall, the aristocrats ate and drank the food and wine served to them. They graciously watched the provided singer but waited for the top of the bill.
Soon enough Brenus’s widow was paraded before them naked prior to being thrown to the floor. Atanga was then led in, also naked accept for chains. Here he was put to the woman of his defeated opponent. He felt an enormous amount of shame, he felt great sympathy for the weeping girl, he felt like an animal. Yet more than anything he felt great lust and in moments he had entered the distraught girl with all the strength he displayed in the ring of death.
He had been denied the intimacy of a woman since his own had been sold the previous year. Thus, despite the degradation of being watched he impaled this wretch with pent up rage.
Julia and Clodia held hands as they witnessed the spectacle of these two animals copulating for their pleasure. That the girl continued to weep and blubber only added to their fun.
When it was over the two slaves were put back in their underground cages. Having had a
delightful day, Julia and Clodia left for their litters to be carried home once more.
Categories SexStory2 Date 04/04/2011