Barbarian Prize

by Deanna Ashford

  ‘Musa always provides us with good fish,’ he replied. ‘Not surprising now that he has taken such a liking to Sabine.’

  ‘I’ve told Sabine that I am happy for her to spend time with the young man if she so chooses,’ Julia said thoughtfully as she sipped her wine. ‘The baths, are they occupied today?’

  ‘Maecenus has brought three special slaves to be prepared for his weekly auction tomorrow,’ Borax replied.

  The slave dealer had a reputation for finding most unusual goods that often commanded high prices at auction. A couple of months ago there had been two young and very beautiful identical twin sisters from Egypt. Also there had been a pretty blond Greek boy who had caused something of a sensation. He had barely reached puberty, yet he was supposedly trained in every conceivable sexual technique. A bidding war had erupted at the auction between three high-ranking citizens. The price eventually paid by Gaius Cuspius was one of the highest ever for a young male slave.

  ‘Anything interesting today?’ Julia asked curiously.

  ‘I think you will be very interested.’ Borax consulted his wax tablet. ‘The slaves he’s sent today are part of the batch shipped here by Governor Agricola. These three are all warriors who took part in the uprising in northern Brittania. Maecenus thinks he’ll definitely be able to sell two, who are good fighters, for gladiatorial training.’

  ‘And the third?’

  ‘Maecenus says he’s the best prize of all and would be wasted in the arena. His name is Taranis . . . he’s from Gaul. He was one of the leaders of the uprising. For some reason – I know not what – Governor Agricola chose not to have him sent to Rome with most of the other prisoners.’ Borax paused and sighed. ‘Although executing him would have been a waste. Even I was a little overcome when I first saw him, my lady. The slave-trader is right, he’s quite the best specimen I’ve laid eyes on for a very long time. Taranis is tall, blond, very muscular and extremely good looking.’

  ‘Perhaps I should see him for myself.’ Julia put down her cup and stood up, her heart beating a little faster. Her friend, Poppaea, had suggested only yesterday that she should find herself a house slave she could take to her bed. Sutoneus had watched over her carefully, so she’d never had the opportunity to bed any other man but her ageing husband. Sex with Sutoneus had been a very unpleasant experience. Now, though, as a widow, she had a measure of sexual freedom and she felt more than ready to take full advantage of this. She knew that Borax rarely showed much interest in Maecenus’s merchandise and she was eager to see this slave he found so attractive.

  Feeling excited, while hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed by what she was about to see, Julia accompanied Borax through the garden. The bath complex was some distance from her villa. It had an outside entrance that led on to a road at the rear of the property, so she suffered no loss of privacy. However, there was also a private entrance from her garden that was always kept locked when clients were using the establishment.

  Julia loved the warm humidity of the baths and the all-pervading odour of the sweet-scented oils that were used. She was not short of money, as Sutoneus had left her well provided for, but renting out the baths had proven to be very economic. Even so, it wasn’t cheap to keep them in good working order. She needed a large number of slaves to run the place and feed the huge underground furnace. It heated the water and the air which flowed through the underfloor spaces to warm the rooms above.

  Borax used his key to open the heavy wooden door which led to the Venus Baths. They entered a narrow corridor, where they took off their shoes and put on wooden-soled sandals that protected their feet from the intense heat of the floor.

  The moist warmth of the air made Julia feel a little light-headed as they reached a narrow arch which led into the tepidarium. She could hardly contain her excitement as Borax pulled aside the heavy curtain. If she were careful, she could spy on those inside without being seen. In order to keep the room temperature at a constant comfortable heat, it was necessary to have no windows in the bath complex. The large room with its mosaic-tiled walls and floor was lit by torches and oil lamps. There were a number of marble tables to accommodate clients as well as seats round the edge of the walls. On the furthest tables were two tall, well-built red-headed men. The bath slaves had already rubbed oil into their skins, now they were scraping off the dirt mixed with oil with a delicately fashioned instrument called a strigil.

  ‘There,’ whispered Borax.

  All Julia’s attention was immediately focused on the other man in the room. He was lying on his stomach so she couldn’t see his face, but she hoped that it matched the rest of his body. He was tall and as well muscled as a gladiator, with smooth tanned skin. Unlike most soldiers, his hair wasn’t cropped short, but was long, well past shoulder length, and an attractive golden blond. Her heart missed a beat. Borax was right, the slave was truly a magnificent creature.

  The other two men had risen to their feet and a slave was leading them through a doorway into the caladarium. There they would soak in the hot bath for a while before moving back into the cooler rooms of the complex.

  Taranis was left alone with the female slave who was massaging him. She was rubbing scented oil into his muscular back and taut buttocks. Julia recognised her, but she had so many slaves she couldn’t recall her name. The girl was young and pretty and, like most female slaves in the bathhouse, naked apart from a thin linen skirt tied round her hips, which barely covered her sex. Perspiration covered her skin, making it gleam in the flickering light, as small beads of moisture rolled down her small tits and flat belly.

  As she rubbed the oil vigorously into Taranis’s back, her small round breasts bounced up and down enticingly. Julia noticed that the girl’s nipples were stiffly erect. So she too was aroused by the sight of the naked god, Julia thought, wishing that she could take the slave’s place and be free to run her hands over his glorious body.

  The girl whispered something in Taranis’s ear and he immediately rolled on to his back and relaxed back on the marble slab. Julia caught her breath and clutched on to her steward’s arm. ‘By the gods,’ she gasped. Not only was the blond slave very good-looking, but also his cock, even un-aroused, was an impressive sight.

  ‘A gift indeed,’ Borax growled softly. ‘No wonder the governor of Brittania did not send him to Rome to be executed. It would be such a waste to destroy such physical beauty.’

  Taranis was pleased to be rid of his facial hair, which had grown quite profusely during the long journey from Brittania. Also it was good to feel really clean again, especially after the days he’d spent in the dirt and squalor of the hold. He could not recall how many months it had been since he’d been able to savour the warmth and pleasure of the baths. He might despise the Romans, but he didn’t despise the comforts they brought with them. Even though he now fought against them, he still retained many of the Roman ways and customs he had learnt in his youth.

  He was the only son of a centurion, a man of Gaul who’d fought for the Empire for many years and earned his Roman citizenship. His father hadn’t been rich but he was wealthy enough to employ tutors to educate Taranis as well as any young Roman nobleman. They had lived in Vesuna in southern Gaul and, when he wasn’t studying, Taranis had spent his time exercising in the gymnasium, enjoying the pleasures of the baths, and drinking and whoring with his young Roman friends.

  He had hoped to follow his father into the army where, as a Roman citizen, he would fight to defend the power of the Empire. However, his ideas had begun to change when, at the age of eighteen, he’d met Paul, a man who followed the teachings of the Galilean and preached the Christian faith. Taranis had always had the heart of a warrior and there were sides to this new religion he found hard to accept, so he couldn’t bring himself to promise to serve this new god. However, a lot of what Paul preached made perfect sense, including the precept that in God’s eyes all men were born equal. Taranis started to question various aspects of his Roman upbringing, especially where slavery was concerne
d.

  Then one terrible day his plans for the future had fallen apart. It had all started when a slave belonging to a city magistrate murdered his master. The law decreed that not only must this slave be put to death, but also every one of the slaves in the magistrate’s household: that was well over thirty innocent men, women and children. Angered and appalled by such cruelty, Taranis protested and ended up leading a crowd of irate citizens to the steps of the local forum to demand that the inhumane law be repealed. The governor of the province sent the local militia to deal with the uprising, and Taranis, along with many others, had been arrested and charged with sedition.

  With Paul’s help, Taranis had escaped from prison but had then been forced to flee his homeland. In order to survive, he’d become a mercenary, fighting on the side of those that opposed Rome. His upbringing and his excellent knowledge of Roman soldiery and strategy had made Taranis a huge asset to those he chose to serve.

  Taranis gave a soft sigh of pleasure as his thoughts were drawn back from the past and fully into the present again. The girl was better at her job than most bath slaves he’d known. She was small and slight but her fingers were surprisingly strong, reaching deep into his tense muscles, working away at the knots in his shoulders, back and buttocks.

  When she asked him, in a soft shy voice, to turn over, he rolled on to his back and watched her as she carefully poured more of the delicately scented oil on to his chest. She leant forwards, giving him a coy smile as, whether deliberately or not, her small breasts brushed teasingly against his upper right arm. The touch of her naked tits excited him. Taranis fought to contain his sudden arousal as she began to massage each arm in turn. He made a conscious effort to relax, trying to ignore the sexual need she had awakened, as she worked on the well-honed muscles of his chest.

  Taking up the small glass container, she slowly dribbled the perfumed oil across his flat belly, then down each muscular thigh. He tensed expectantly as her soothing fingers slid sensuously across his skin. First, she concentrated on his legs, digging hard into the firm muscles of his thigh. As she stroked and massaged his tanned flesh, her fingers began to slide upwards, getting teasingly closer to, but never quite reaching, his groin.

  Despite himself and all his concerns for Sirona, Taranis still felt the sexual desire grow stronger, creeping insidiously through his entire body. Controlling his lustful thoughts as much as he could, Taranis closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind solely on his beloved Sirona. Where was she now? What had happened to her, he wondered worriedly.

  The Romans probably considered that a barbarian princess was a prize of some worth. He thought it unlikely that they would consider killing her; if they had planned to do that, she would have been sent to Rome with her father. Probably she was destined to be the slave of some rich, very influential citizen. However, that thought didn’t settle his concerns, on the contrary it magnified them. She might be kept alive but she was doubtless destined to suffer. In his youth, Taranis had seen for himself how most rich citizens treated their slaves. Sirona was stunningly beautiful and he dreaded the sexual indignities she might be forced to suffer. He could only pray that her new master would be kind to her, perhaps then she might come to care for him and be able to accept the fate the gods had decreed for her, at least for the time being. Whatever, he was still determined to find a way to escape and somehow rescue his beloved Sirona.

  Once again, the slave girl’s fingers drifted towards his groin, just brushing his pubes. In the past, such intimacies had been an inherent part of the bathhouse experience, although he was a little surprised that the slave girl was being so forward with him today. After all, he wasn’t a regular paying customer, he was only a slave being prepared for sale on the auction block. However, he did not have the will to protest as he lay there enjoying the gentle sexual stimulation.

  She began to stroke his flat stomach, her movements becoming bolder as her fingers threaded their way through the golden hair at his groin and pressed sensuously on the sensitive triangle of flesh just above his penis. Her warm breath brushed his belly, as she leant closer, her fingers gently stroking and caressing the root of his cock.

  His arousal increasing, he opened his eyes and stared at her. The slave girl was attractive, there was no doubt about that, with her slim figure, large dark eyes and full mouth. Perspiration beaded her smooth olive skin, rolling down her neck on to her pert breasts where it lay twinkling like precious stones in the lamplight. Her tits were a little small for his taste and would not sit comfortably in his hands like Sirona’s full breasts did, but they were firm and quite pleasing to the eye. Her small brown nipples were stiffly erect and, judging by her expression, she was becoming excited just by massaging him.

  The girl gnawed nervously at her full bottom lip as she looked enquiringly at him, her fingers just brushing the root of his penis again. Taranis gave a soft groan. ‘Certe,’ he murmured, nodding his head as his cock stirred in unconscious response.

  He laid his head back on to the piece of folded linen that served as a pillow, as her soft fingers encircled his cock. He felt the warm tingling sensation of growing arousal as the girl ran her fingers up and down his shaft. The moist perfumed air, the warmth of the tepidarium and the feel of the girl’s fingers were so comforting, so very familiar. The pleasure grew as she began to wank him expertly, making the blood flow even more vigorously through his veins.

  Taranis heard her gasp of surprise as his cock grew harder. He knew that the gods had blessed him, and compared to most men he was very well endowed. Women liked big cocks, it was as simple as that, and he’d never had any problem attracting them so he had rarely resorted to visiting brothels. The women seemed to like not only his cock but also his muscular body and his looks, so in the past he’d become a little full of himself and made a point of seducing as many as he could. That had all stopped when he’d met and fallen desperately in love with Sirona. Even so, at present he had no problem in separating these sort of sexual pleasures from his love for Sirona, especially as the slaves who worked in bathhouses were often almost as skilled at pleasuring a man as whores were.

  Her grip tightened, her oiled fingers sliding smoothly up and down his shaft. Taranis gave a soft groan as her other hand moved to touch his balls, gently kneading the scrotal sac. Then he felt a warm wet tongue lapping at his cock-head, rimming the large glans. She pulled the head into her mouth, sucking on it gently.

  She must have released her long dark hair, which had been tied back with a strip of leather, because he felt it brush teasingly against his belly and legs, as she continued to expertly fellate him with her mouth. The warm wetness engulfed his sex and for a moment Taranis was tempted to reach out and touch her also, but this wasn’t Sirona so he clenched his fists and kept his arms stiffly at his sides. Yet he was still achingly aware of the soft, seductive body of the young half-naked slave. Her slick belly was pressed against the side of his thigh. He could smell the musky odour clinging to her skin, hear the muffled noise of her breathing and the soft sucking sounds she was making as she did her best to swallow as much of his cock as she could. Her mouth was working hard, expertly fucking him; the pressure of her lips increasing and decreasing as she slid them up and down his shaft. Still, all the time, her fingers played teasingly with his balls.

  Suddenly, a small hand crept across his chest to tug at one of his nipples, squeezing and pulling at the pap, while the pressure she was applying to his shaft increased. Taranis’s heart pounded out of control, all his senses now focused on his impending release. He was panting, the heat and humidity in the room seeming to increase with every breath he took. She was employing every tantalising technique, her tongue flicking up and down his shaft and over the sensitive head, her mouth making every effort to suck him dry. All the while, her fingers worked on his nipples and squeezed and caressed his balls.

  He conjured up a vision of Sirona in his mind, managing to convince himself that it was her glorious copper-coloured hair brushing his belly, h
er lips working their magic on his senses. As he did so, his pleasure peaked. There was a loud roaring sound in his ears as he spurted his seed into the slave girl’s willing mouth.

  Drained by the strength of his orgasm, it took him a few brief moments to catch his breath and regain full control of his senses. He opened his eyes to see the slave girl smiling provocatively at him as she rubbed one hand over her small breasts. She plucked at one firm brown nipple while lifting her linen skirt to expose her sex to his gaze. The message was clear: she wanted him. In times gone by, Taranis might have accepted the invitation and taken the girl into a private cubicle to pleasure her just as she’d pleasured him, but he had no desire to do so today.

  Taranis sat up, studiously ignoring her entreating looks. He pointed to a damp cloth that she’d left on one of the low seats surrounding the edges of the room. Doing her best to hide her disappointment, she picked it up and handed it to him, waiting while he cleansed himself. Rising to his feet, he grabbed a clean linen towel from a nearby pile.

  As he wrapped it around his waist, to his far left, in the flickering lamplight, he caught sight of a short, quite pretty woman peering round a curtain which appeared to cover a narrow alcove. He noticed that her cheeks were very flushed from the warmth and her light-brown hair was a little dishevelled. She certainly wasn’t dressed for the baths, and when she realised he’d spotted her she tensed nervously and then suddenly disappeared behind the curtain. He was confused. It was not usual to have opposite sexes using the baths at the same time. Also, judging by her elaborate hairstyle and fine garments, she was a lady of quality.

  His curiosity aroused by her unexpected presence and the fact that she might have been watching what had just happened between him and the slave girl, he strode forwards and pulled aside the curtain. He was just in time to see the woman, accompanied by a tall man, disappear through a heavy wooden door at the end of the narrow corridor.