by Georgia Fox
"Prima mensa?"
"My main dish." He grinned. Her language was something else he grew familiar with. Piece by piece. Word by word. "My only dish," he added hastily.
"Hmm. I am glad you saw fit to correct that, Marcus the Invincible."
What else could he do when he was sick with lust for her?
"But you will still take care of the other girls," she said. "I don't want anyone turned out because of me."
He laughed. "What task do you suggest they serve if I have no need of them in my bed from now on?"
"I'm sure there is plenty for them to do. Perhaps some of your men would like wives?"
"Axa, a Roman centurion cannot marry while he remains in service to the Emperor."
"Oh....right." She nodded slowly. "I forgot. I read about that." Now her green eyes glittered, searching his face. "Then you cannot marry either."
"Not without special permission. Until I retire in another ten years."
She paled a little and looked down. "I see. Ten years! Such a long time."
Sensing she was — for once—holding back a question, he said, "I will be forty in ten years, Axa."
"Oh. Forty."
"And you?"
"I'll be twenty nine then."
So she was younger than he thought. Nineteen. From the way she spoke and her self-confidence he had taken her for a woman of five and twenty perhaps. But there was also the sexual inexperience, of course, to take into account.
He held out his arm for her. "Are you ready, Axa, for the ceremony?"
She looked at him a moment and then nodded.
* * * *
Tonight she had been bathed and her skin rubbed with scented oil. Her hair was left loose but decorated with a circlet of wild flowers from the meadow outside the villa. She felt like a pagan sacrifice.
In a sense she would be.
But if she was going to lose her cherry finally, why not make the event something special, she mused? Axa had to admit she was aroused as Marcus led her up onto a podium in the center of the triclinium and removed her mantle— the only garment she wore. He too was stripped naked for this performance.
The guests gathered around, some sprawling on benches as they enjoyed their host’s food and wine. Prostitutes from the fornice were scattered around the great room, already earning their money. The atmosphere in the place was steamy, overflowing with sultry, sexual heat. A group of musicians played softly nearby and slaves stood around with tall, leaf-shaped fans edged in gold.
It was very extravagant, she thought. Decadent Roman just as she'd read about it.
Marcus laid her on a couch that sloped with her feet downward and spread her legs for the audience, propping her heels up on the silk.
Axa turned her head and saw Gaius Damianus seated close to the podium, his stern gaze fixed upon her body as he bit into a leg of roasted meat and juice ran down his chin. Looking further, she saw every eye watching.
Such a novelty— she heard the whispers—a virgin.
A fitting symbol of spring and fertility rites.
Uh oh. Fertility. Suddenly it occurred to her that Marcus was not likely to have any knowledge about or concern for contraception.
There was no time now to raise the subject. His staff was already tall and thick, standing to attention as he stroked it with one hand and knelt on the couch between her knees.
The audience fell into awestruck silence and even the musicians stopped playing for a moment.
"Open your body, virgin," Marcus said. "Your owner and master is about to claim your maidenhead."
He wasn't using anything to smooth his path and the sight of that massive cock poised to force its way in caused Axa to catch her breath in trepidation. No, she must not tense. So she tried to relax.
"Fuck her," shouted the governor, standing at the side of the podium. "Fuck the slave girl!"
A rowdy cheer rose up as the crowd echoed his demand. "Fuck her! Fuck her!"
"Plow the wench and plant her with seed!"
"Praise to the gods for another year's bounty," grunted Marcus, his gaze riveted to her face.
And then he put his hands around her hips and lifted her lower body. She grabbed the sides of the couch as her bottom lost contact with the silk cushion and then she felt his broad cockhead pushing between her labia. He slowly positioned her onto him as he leaned forward, on his knees, pulling her hips down the couch.
His rock hard penis speared her with one powerful thrust. She groaned at the immediate flush of intense pain and the crowd cheered enthusiastically, raising their drinking cups in a toast to the gods who would make the fields fertile and bring a good harvest.
Marcus thrust deeper yet and she cried out. While she'd expected pain, she could not have imagined this. For a moment it was too much for her, the cramping of her lower body making her break out in a sweat. But then it passed, replaced by an exquisite sensation of fullness. His body had completed hers, filled a hole.
In every sense of the word, she thought drily.
His eyes dark with victory, he began to move his hips, lowering his body over her, his broad thighs spread between her legs to hold them open.
"Blood!" cried a voice excitedly. "I see the blood where he has broken her."
Another cheer in celebration. These Romans really liked their blood sports, of course, she thought distantly.
Her master's manhood steadily stretched her body to accommodate his size. She felt his pulse thudding within her as her pussy sheathed that incredible length and width.
"You are mine now," he growled.
"Yes," she gasped out on a halting breath.
He pressed a small distance further and she cried out. For three slow breaths he rested there, his shaft embedded, allowing her to adjust her body to the invasion, then he backed out and proudly showed his bloodied weapon to the appreciative crowd.
Axa felt flushed, lying there exposed amid the rowdy celebration. She was about to sit up and find something to cover herself, but Marcus briskly wiped his cock clean on her discarded mantle and then climbed onto the couch again, pushing her down and re-entering her body in one forceful thrust.
With slow, deliberate strokes he began to fuck her. The friction built steadily and flames of desire soon overtook the pain and the shame of being exhibited this way before so many onlookers. Riven with need, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his body, urging Marcus ever deeper and faster.
Now he quickened the rhythm, pounding into her with a bestial roar. The world spun and she cried out in ecstasy as the climax neared. But he did not let her have it yet. He slowed again, stopped, even pulled all the way out.
"Marcus," she groaned, reaching for him.
He leaned down and licked the blood of her maidenhead from her aching pussy.
* * * *
He was white hot, his lust for her a thick fog that obscured his sight to anything else but the beautiful woman on the silken couch. The audience behind him urged Marcus on with shouts and cries of delight as he spread the lips of her cunt and lapped up further evidence of her deflowering. She had bled considerably and it raised the crowd's excitement.
His phallus was hard as iron, his sac full and heavy, but he held off a while longer, performing not just for the crowd, but also for Axa. His woman.
She arched her back, panting, perspiration lending her fine skin a pearlescent quality. Holding her labia open, he displayed her thus for the audience, letting them all admire the tight haven of velvet in which he would soon spend.
Gaius Damianus and some of his friends came closer to inspect her as she writhed with erotic need on the couch. Marcus knew that as he held her pussy lips apart and didn't let her close her legs, she would be unable to finish her climax. She was afire with it. Keening with raw desire. He made certain to keep her hovering at the peak by pressing his tongue or the pad of his thumb occasionally to the little pink nub at the crest of her labia. It jolted her every time, made her bottom lift off the couch, her breasts bounce enti
cingly. She was all sex, all passion. Alive with it, her little nether mouth craving his seed.
"Come, feel," he urged the other men. "See how ready she is."
He let them touch her, tease her hidden pink pearl just as he did. One by one they fondled her, some caressing around the clitoris to make her breath quicken, her nipples sharpen. Others touched the naughty button directly, causing a yelp of agonized need from his woman.
Even Marcus could not hold off forever. He pushed their hands aside and mounted her again with one hard, ruthless thrust. She was already coming before he was fully sheathed. She screamed his name and he released his stream with a roar, deep and long, buried to the hilt in that glorious warmth.
The other men looked on in envy. He could feel the governor's eyes raking across the skin of his sweating back like vicious fingernails.
It merely aroused him again. Moments after coming he was ready to rut a second time.
Apparently Axa did possess magic after all. She had made him a believer.
* * * *
In a daze, she let him sit her up on the edge of the stained couch to show her off again, this time with his cum dripping out of her pussy. He sat astride the couch behind her and held her under the knees, lifting her legs and parting them so the audience could view his handiwork and raise another toast.
Axa leaned back, her head on her master's wide shoulder, and felt only a little shiver of shame as so many— men and women— came to look and admire her sore, swollen pink labia, filled to over-brimming with the spunk of Marcus Cassius. She was sticky with it, drowning in it. And yet she would have taken it again and again. In his arms she felt treasured, adored.
"You have done well tonight," he whispered in her ear and she heard the pride in his voice. "Now they all know you are my loyal woman, my special one. I don't usually spill my seed inside any woman's pudenda."
"You don't? But—"
"I don't risk getting my slaves with child, Axa. Did you imagine me so careless?"
She swallowed. "I just assumed you Romans wouldn't be concerned."
She felt him chuckle although it was so soft no one else in the noisy room would hear. "You are the privileged one, Axa. You will bear my strong sons, if the gods permit."
A moment of panic shot through her then. She would bear his children but he could not marry her for ten years. So they would be bastards. And he might grow bored with her one day, toss her aside. As a woman in this world she had no rights.
"The gods might not permit," she muttered.
Still holding one knee up with his left hand, he slipped the fingers of the other down over her rounded stomach and rubbed her sticky pussy lips until she felt another quake begin deep inside, making her womb contract. "Stop. I can't keep coming like this. I'm exhausted. Mar—Master, don't. I won't orgasm. You can't make it—" And she came with a short, sharp cry. The watching Romans laughed to hear her lips complain while her body betrayed her completely.
"I'm exhausted," she murmured. "I can't—"
But he proceeded to prove to her that she could. She could indeed keep climaxing and he would make her do it for as long and as many times as he wanted. He caressed her, diddled her clit, squeezed and pinched lightly. Again and again he brought her to that peak, sometimes by doing nothing more than patting her wet labia in a quick fluttering motion. It was as if he had found a switch in her and turned it on.
The elusive switch no one else had ever found.
And soon he was ready to deliver another load of his seed inside the body he now owned.
"Sit astride my lap," he commanded. "Let them see you slide down my flagstaff."
Although she was sore inside by then, she struggled to obey. There was no "can't" in his vocabulary she discovered that night.
Chapter Eight
When he sent her off to be bathed, soothed and perfumed ready for his bed, Marcus sat with some of his guests, enjoying their congratulations. Gaius Damianus was silent, sly, like a panther waiting to pounce on Marcus once he got him alone.
"Now you've had the native bitch, you can give her to me. As we discussed."
He knew he must proceed carefully and not risk raising the man's ire again. "I'm sorry, governor. I told you I would consider it, but I have not yet had the time to do so."
Gaius spoke through gritted teeth, "How much more time do you need? You've had her for days and only just got around to fucking her. How long am I supposed to wait while you procrastinate further?"
"I had the feast to plan and other things on my mind."
"Well, now you are free to think. I want the slave girl, general. I won't wait much longer. How many gold sesterces do you want for the slave?"
Marcus drained his cup of wine. "Actually, governor..."
There was a long pause until Gaius snapped, "What is it, man? Are you addled? Speak!"
"I have agreed to grant her freedom."
"You did what?"
He felt like laughing, but decided it might be best to curb it. For now. "In exchange for this," he waved his cup at the silk bench where he'd deflowered his woman, "I promised to set her free. As of tonight she is no more a slave."
Gaius stood, veins of fury visibly throbbing in the side of his neck. "You let her go?"
"She promised she would stay if I gave her freedom."
"And you believed her? Then you must be insane, general. She is wild, feral. She will run. When I saw you had let her off the collar I thought you were making a mistake. But this...this is madness."
Would she run away now? A sprig of doubt thrust its way up through his thoughts. Had he trusted her too much, begun to believe the things she said?
Well, he was so far in now there was no backing out. There was only one way to keep going. "Besides, I had to set her free, because I think I might...I might..."
Another pause. Gaius sputtered, "Are you drunk?"
Abruptly Marcus laughed. "I think I might marry her."
The other man glared. "What?"
It had come to him in that moment. He didn't want her for a mistress. He wanted her for a wife. He wanted her to bear his legitimate sons— even a few daughters wouldn't go amiss. Carefully he set his empty cup down. "I set her free so I could marry her. I will seek permission, of course."
"I won't give it."
"Then I'll go over your head."
"You wouldn't dare!"
He felt a tight pain in his chest. In his heart. All he knew was he couldn't lose Axa to Gaius or anybody. It was rare for soldiers to marry, but not impossible to get permission. He'd heard of it done more often these days. "I've been a loyal soldier for fifteen years," he said firmly. "And I don't care about promotion or land, or riches. I want a wife and I'm quite sure the empire wants another generation bred of strong, loyal young men. Especially if we want the Roman Empire to last beyond another four hundred years, we need to do more than enslave the people we conquer."
"Now I know you're drunk, general."
No, he wasn't drunk. He was in love.
She had promised to stay if he set her free. She said she wanted to stay with him.
Whatever Gaius thought. Whatever Flavian thought. He, Marcus Cassius, believed her.
* * * *
After a warm bath, she felt better. The slave master had told her she was not to return to the feast tonight, but could go straight to bed and wait there for Marcus.
"I understand he means to set you free," Flavian muttered. "You are fortunate."
"Yes." She smiled. "He has set me free in so many ways. You have no idea."
"You will run away, of course."
Axa laughed. "No. How can I? I'm in love with him."
The old man's mouth dropped open.
"I've been waiting for the right man all my life," she added, "Now I've found him, I'm not going anywhere."
He squinted at her, still doubtful, so she clasped his crumbling face and kissed him on the cheek.
"Don't worry for your master. I will love him forever."
She went to her lover's bed to wait for the end of the feasting. There was still a great deal of noise echoing through the villa, so Flavian posted extra guards at the bedchamber door, just to ensure none of the guests wandered there to disturb her.
She thanked the old man for his concern and he looked surprised. "As you are special to the general, lady, you are now special to me too."
He had called her "lady" she noted, instead of slave. "Well, I shall thank you anyway," she told him. "I know when to show my appreciation." Then she grinned. "Maybe I can teach the general how to show it too, once in a while."
Flavian looked bemused. "I daresay, lady, if anyone can teach the general anything it will be you. Many good changes have already been noted." He bowed and left her.
Axa spent her time alone considering everything that had happened to her. The past was a vague shadow in the corner of her eye. It meant nothing to her now. She loved Marcus Cassius and there were so many ways she could be good for him. For that reason she'd been sent back in time; she knew it. He had helped her to know her true self, to untie the ropes of self-doubt in which she'd bound herself for too long. By enslaving her, ironically, he had freed her of all that. Axa would help him in return.
They were made for each other and had known it from first sight.
That night, before he sent her off to be bathed, she had told Marcus not to be long. She couldn't wait to have him to herself. He had laughed, licked the tip of her nose and then kissed her on the lips.
"That means, o...kay," he had said, smirking proudly that he'd remembered.
Whenever he picked up her modern words it gave her a thrill, made her giddy. Oh, she loved teaching him things. And he would teach her plenty too she thought with another sort of thrill tickling through her body.