by Nobilis Reed
I climbed up onto the deck. There were a dozen legionnaires along the railing, pressure-bows at the ready. I found Makki at the bow, crouching in front of the forward superstructure. She did not look up as I approached, and when I reached her side I was surprised to see that she was tending to a captive chained to the front of the ship.
Wotanake.
He didn’t look too bad, considering. He had a bruise on his face and of course there was the wound on his hand, but otherwise he didn’t seem too badly beaten, at least not physically. Emotionally, however, he was wrecked. He did not look up at me or at Makki. He simply stared out at the water, muttering under his breath, rattling the chains that bound him to the deck.
Makki carefully wound his hand with clean linen and deftly tied it off, and then stood and faced me. “You will say goodbye, now,” she said. “Wotanake is your prisoner, so there is no reason to hold me protected at Nova Lucotecia.”
I looked around, but there really wasn’t any place to talk in private. “I can’t talk now. But we will, as soon as we get back home. I can tell you this much: Livia is going back to Rome. She decided it’s a bit too wild for her out here. This isn’t goodbye.”
Makki looked up, hope dawning in her eyes.
Heedless of the impropriety, I took her in my arms and kissed her on the lips. “My darling Makki, I’m never leaving you again.”
WHEN WE DOCKED, there was an immediate flurry of activity. I sent Livia up to her father’s estate, escorted by my father and the troops that had come with us. I sent word to Primus Germanicus that Makki wouldn’t be returning to his workshop immediately, giving no further details. That left me free to bring Makki to my villa. As soon as we arrived, I found that a bath had already been made ready. I didn’t have the traditional setup the legate had in his home, but there was a large wooden basin in my room that did a reasonable job, and Drusilla had known that I would need it. Her confidence that I would return was welcome.
The plumbing system was my own design. Each private room had a basin and a set of hot and cold water taps, tiled and drained to prevent water damage. Most everyone did their bathing at the public bath-house, of course, but when there wasn’t time for a trip to the baths, it was nice to be able to get a quick soak. My bath was full and steaming hot.
Before I got in, I needed to get rid of the grime. Oil and scrapers had already been laid out, as well as a razor and shears for my hair.
As I began to pull off my clothes, Makki came up behind me and took my hands. “Let me.”
She undid the clasp at my shoulder, set the heavy brooch aside, and undraped my tunic. Her hands were soft, gentle, and deliberate. I kicked off my sandals, and in a few moments, I was naked. She took the bottle of oil and poured a thin stream over my shoulders.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “It feels like you’re my servant.”
Delicately, she stroked my skin, spreading the oil over my shoulders and back. “Don’t worry. Afterwards, it’s your turn.” Her touch felt wonderfully relaxing after the ordeal of the previous days, and the tension drained from my muscles like wine from a punctured skin. She anointed my entire body, making sure every spot was covered before taking up the strigil and expertly scraping the tainted oil from my skin.
“You’re good at this,” I said.
“I had hoped I could do this for you one day. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that I may.”
There was nothing overtly sexual about her touch, nothing I could point to that was particularly provocative, but simply being near her was enough to arouse me. At last, she drew the strigil gingerly over my rigid phallus. I drew a sharp breath and held out a hand to her.
She put the strigil in it. “Your turn.” She shrugged out of her dress and let it fall around her feet. Underneath she wore a simple loincloth and a band around her breasts, both of which were shed just as quickly. Her body was not as dirty as mine, but after a long day aboard the ship, there was coal dust and sand to be dealt with. Rather than dribble the oil over her, however, I poured it into a cupped hand and applied it with an upward motion, starting just above her ankles.
“You shaved,” I said, softly, as I reached the halfway point. Her sex was almost completely bare.
“Drusilla says it is the fashion. You do not approve?”
“I would rather you hadn’t,” I said, as my fingers brushed the stubble.
“I guess I am not very good at it.”
When she was fully clean, I stood back to admire her. She stood unashamed, her olive skin gleaming in the late afternoon sun that streamed in through the window. Nothing could be more beautiful. I could have stood there all night and just watched until sunlight crept over her body.
But she had other ideas. She took the razor from my hand and deftly drew it across the stone, quickly honing the edge before she stepped up and put her fingers under my chin. “Hold still,” she said, bringing the blade to my throat.
“Is this the part where I pledge my undying love and affection?” I asked.
She drew the blade deftly across my skin. “That is a good idea,” she said with an amused twinkle in her eye, “but my hands shake if I laugh.”
I let her finish my throat, and then dipped my head forward to let her start shaving my cheeks. I watched her face as she worked. As soon as she was done, I said, “I knew from the moment I saw you that I had to have you in my life, and I will fight until my last breath to keep you here, no matter what it costs me.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and her fingers began to shake. I took the razor from her hand, and she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me full on the lips. She murmured something in her own language for a minute until I laughed and she pulled away with her hands over her mouth. Blushing at her lapse, she stepped back, shaking her head. “Marcus! I’m so happy.”
I took her hand and sat her down on the edge of the tub. “Your turn,” I said, taking up the whetstone to make sure the razor had a fresh edge. A woman’s private parts were not my usual avenue for shaving, but I knew how to wield a blade, and I felt certain that I would be up to the challenge. She spread her legs conveniently and braced herself with her hands on either side of the basin behind her.
As I carefully cleared the dark bits of hair from her mound, it struck me how absurd the situation was. There I was, the second-most-powerful man in the Antipodes, shaving a native woman like a common body-servant—and there was no place I would rather have been. I was not prepared for the very female scent that gradually overcame my senses as I ran the blade against her skin. I had smelled it when we lay together on the ship, the night I found her, but now it struck me much more powerfully, with my face so close I could almost kiss her. She was musk and salt, mixed with the fragrance of the olive oil and the faint tang of coal-smoke.
I worked from the edges in, taking down the stubble to smooth, taut skin. The scent of her had a strange effect on me. It was like nothing I had felt before. I found myself leaning closer, as if to see more clearly, but the effect brought her essence deeper into my senses until I was dizzy, but without the disorientation or unsteadiness, just the swirling fullness in my head. Even refreshing the oil on her skin when it needed more protection from the blade did nothing to dampen it. By the time the job was finally complete, I was trembling from the effects.
I don’t know what possessed me to try it. None had ever made the suggestion. It just seemed a natural thing to do, but once all of the stubble was gone, I leaned forward to take a lick.
Makki gasped. I looked up. She looked down.
“Should I do that again?” I asked.
She nodded.
I licked again. I kissed. I nuzzled my nose between her lips, and then spread them with my fingers to allow deeper exploration, deeper inhalation. Then, mixing with the smell and taste of her came the sound. It started with heavy breaths, punctuated first with a swallow, and then with a moan. She put one hand on my head, cradling it close to her, not in any way forceful but nevertheless letting me k
now she wanted more. Her cries increased until she made a sudden jerk and a whoop of alarm.
I looked up. She looked down. “If you do not stop, I will fall in.”
“Getting into the bath was part of the original plan,” I said.
“Then we do that now, please.”
We climbed in on either side of the tub, but as soon as we were in the water, Makki sloshed over and wrapped her body around mine. She knelt astride me and pulled me in, burying my face in her stunning bosom. To prevent myself from being drowned, I found the slick, soft mass of her breast in one hand as I arranged us into a less dangerous position. “If you wanted to kill me, you had a knife to my throat a moment ago!” I sputtered.
She backed off a bit, letting me come up for air. “Marcus!” There was alarm in her face, but then she saw the look in my eye and smiled. I saw her smile and chuckled. Soon we both were laughing and splashing like children in the river.
After a few minutes I looked over the edge at the puddle expanding out from the tub. “Drusilla is not going to be pleased.”
“Drusilla is going to be very happy,” said Makki.
I laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into my lap. “You’re right. She will. And that’s good, because I plan on making the mess even bigger.”
“You are? Can you share your battle plan, Procurator?” She reached under the water and stroked my cock, returning it quickly to hardness. “Ooh, I think there may be a spear involved.”
I gasped in mock horror. “Spy! I have a spy in my camp!” I rose quickly to my knees, spraying more water on the floor and pinning Makki to the side of the tub.
“No, no!” she squealed. “I am just a poor barbarian girl! I have come only to gather flowers!” She clutched at the rim and arched her back, angling her beautifully round posterior into the air. Enough water had been jostled out of the tub that she was fully exposed.
I tried to maintain a serious demeanor but I could hardly keep from chuckling. “Well then, here is a flower for you!” I positioned myself carefully, and then thrust completely in, all in one go.
“That...that is a wonderful flower, Procurator.” Her giggles rapidly shifted to gasps.
“I still don’t believe you,” I said, bending down to put one arm under her belly. “I think you are carrying weapons.”
“Oh no, I would never!”
I shifted my hand to her breast. “Oh, and what is this?” I squeezed. “Quite deadly, I think. After all, you assaulted me with them and nearly smothered me!” I decided I had not paid nearly enough attention to her breasts the first time we were together. Their soft weight filled my hand in a most satisfying way.
“Mm, I think you need to inspect them carefully, just to make sure, Procurator,” she said, rolling her hips against my body. “But there’s another thing you should check, as well.” She took one arm away from the edge of the tub long enough to guide my other hand down between her legs. “That could be dangerous too.”
Somehow, I couldn’t think of any more witty lines after that. I tried for a minute or two as my fingers moved through the area where our bodies came together, but it became too much of a distraction. My mind filled with the intense pleasure of finally being inside her, and with the vicarious delight of hearing her moans and cries as our bodies moved. Gradually, Makki’s cries became louder until she nearly shrieked her ecstasy. I could feel her body pulsing around my shaft.
The water splashed and rolled in the tub as we rocked against each other, adding a liquid rhythm to the sounds we made. The fragrant juices spread over my face and filled my nose with her scent. The sensations combined with the marvelously soft feeling of her body around my cock to push me over the edge into my own growling climax.
We lay panting on the side of the basin while we caught our breath.
“That,” she said, “Was the best bath I have ever had in my life.”
I kissed her. “I agree. It was a marvelous bath.”
“But the water is getting cold,” she said, clutching her arms around herself. She stepped out and took up one of the soft cotton towels to dry herself. As I emerged to join her, she mounted the steps leading to the bed and looked down at the purple and gold blanket that covered it.
I grabbed a towel. “It’s a sacred place for you, isn’t it?” I asked.
She nodded. “A man and a woman who lie in a bed are married.”
I dropped my towel, climbed up next to her, and sat. “Come,” I said. “The emperor might not recognize my marriage to you, but the emperor does not sleep in my bed.”
She sat down next to me, tears once again welling in her eyes, and kissed me.
“What about Primus Germanicus?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you away from your machines. You love machines the way I love exploring. After all, you’ll need something to do when I’m away.”
She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my body. We fell back onto the bed, our bed, and continued the evening in much the same way as it had started. When we finally laid down for sleep, as the stresses and excitements of the past few days were finally spent, I smiled to myself.
“What are you smiling at, Procurator?”
“An oracle told Livia that she would be returning to Rome with her husband.”
“Soothsayers are not always right,” she said.
“This one was,” I said, “After a fashion. When Wotanake thought I was dead, he laid a blanket on the beach with Livia under it. After much chanting and dancing, he climbed under it after her. That makes them husband and wife, does it not?”
A concerned look crossed Makki’s face. “Yes. Will you tell her?”
“No, of course not. It would only cause her pain. But it makes me happy knowing that all of this happened as it should have done, even if you and I are the only ones who know it.”
Makki kissed me tenderly, and then snuggled in close by my side. “My husband, one look at your face or mine will tell anyone we meet that we are exactly where we belong.”
About the Author
A few years ago Nobilis Reed decided to start sharing the naughty little stories he scribbled out in hidden notebooks. To his surprise, people actually liked them! Now, he can’t stop. The poor man is addicted. His wife, teenage children, and even the cats just look on this wretch of a man, hunched over his computer and shake their heads. Clearly, there is no hope for him. The best that can be hoped for is to just make him as comfortable as his condition will allow. Symptoms of his condition include two novels, several novellas, numerous short stories, and the longest-running erotica podcast in the history of the world. His website can be found at www.nobiliserotica.com.
Other Titles by Nobilis Reed
Available at Logical-Lust.com
Scouts – The Orgone Chronicles Book 1
An overpopulated space station threatens to separate two young loves. At any moment, Challers Dizen could find himself conscripted by the Fleet and forced to become one of their lethal, over-muscled Marines, while Valka Parl could be taken away by the gluttonous Merchants. Their only hope to stay together is to join the mysterious Scouts. However, they soon learn that exploring space as a Scout means exploring their sexuality in ways they never imagined.
Pirates – The Orgone Chronicles Book 2
Challers and Valka are safe, protected aboard the Pirate city-ship known as “Port.” The scars of their ordeal among the Scouts remain, however. The only way for them to raise money is for them to join the Worthies—reality-TV celebrities who are always on camera. In an environment where loyalty is dismissed and betrayal is rewarded, their love suffers its greatest test yet.
Riskwear – Tales of Love and Engineering #1
Love, Engineering, and Exhibitionism: Frank invented a fabric that can become any material. Marta developed software that turns it into any garment. He understands dominance and submission; she knows fashion and desire. When a bug is discovered just hours before the product ships, working together transforms
their relationship and their invention.