The Roman Slave Girl

by Emma Bond

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© Copyright 2014 - Emma Bond - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; captive; slave; auction; gag; bdsm; whip; force; fantasy; vibrator; climax; cons/nc; X

The dealer ripped the thin dress open exposing her small white breasts and made a comment she couldn't understand verbally, but from the leer on his bearded face, she knew it was something lurid and she shuddered.

His hands pawed at her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. She threw her head back in pain as she cried out. She held back the tears. The Romans may take her dignity from her and flaunt her naked body in front of the crowd gathering for her auction, but by all the gods, she wasn't going to cry in front of the bastard that was mauling at her with his big calloused hands.

He held his face close to hers as his hands ran down her body and over the hairy mound of her sex. His fingers curled around the hair and pulled tightly and again she cried out in pain. Trying to close her legs which were held wide apart between the two upright posts she was tied to. Her hands were also lashed wide apart, each to the frame, pulling her arms tightly out and up over her head.

He ran a hand down her arm and over the pits of her arm and she flinched. He sensed her discomfort and attacked her armpits with his fingers, as she giggled and bucked and twisted to get away from the onslaught.

Again the reality check came back to her. No matter how hard she pulled at the ropes binding her wrists and ankles to the frame, there was no give. She was held taut with no room to wriggle. In despair she begged the man to stop.

He resumed his probing and his fingers spread her pussy lips apart before roughly plunging into her. She cried out in pain as he roughly fucked her with his fingers. She tried at first to kick him, then she tried to sink lower down to force her knees shut, but due to the taut ropes, it was useless.

The man leaned in close whispering in her ear. More rude remarks? She only knew a few words of Latin, learned from the soldiers who occupied her own land far to the North. Defiantly she butted the side of her head into his face. The rage boiled inside of her. Her teeth flashed and bit deep into his ear. She could taste the blood flowing from him as it ran down her chin and over her breasts.

He slapped her and she released him. His hand went up to his ear to feel the damage her teeth had caused. Now it was her that was grinning. The malice showed in her eyes.

He looked at her in hatred and picking up the ripped dress, he tore at it, ripping off a large piece from the hem and another longer strip. He moved behind her grabbing a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. Balling the rag in his hand, he shoved it roughly into her mouth and tied it in place with the other strip before throwing her head forward again.

It was a long time since a slave had defied him. He wanted to whip her until there was just flesh hanging from her bones but where would his profit be if he damaged the goods!

Still, he had to make an example of her.

He took off his wide leather belt and flexed it. Then, standing behind her, he targeted her buttocks and back of the legs. he thrashed the belt down onto her exposed flesh.

She looked at the crowd in front of her with pleading eyes. They jeered in anticipation of her impending beating. Rude cat calls. Most were in Latin. Some were in other languages of the Empire. Some she recognised in her own tongue but none dared to help.

And they called me the barbarian, she thought.

Again the belt flashed and bit into her flesh. Muffled cries of pain came from her mouth as he beat her. Over and over. Her skin was warming to a nice shade of red.

He forced himself to hold back. To cut her would devalue the price for her. Her head slumped forward as he stopped his beating. Her body was now glistening in a film of sweat.

Again his hands ran over her body. This time there was just little whimpers from her as he pulled at her nipples. His hand ran over her mound to rub at her clit. With his thumb pressed against it in a circling motion and two of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, there was nothing she could do from preventing the orgasm he was building in side her. Throwing her head back she cried out as his fingers worked there unrelenting magic on her, until she was spent.

After her orgasm hit her, she opened her eyes.

It was then she realised she was back in her bedroom. The Novel lay beside her on the bed. Her silver vibrator was humming on the bed sheet between her legs. Wondering what it would be like to be the slave in the auction back in Roman times.

Sold to the mines and an early death? The pretty girls, sold to the local brothels was only a slightly better fate, until they aged or dried up, only then to be sold as domestic maids until death released them from the drudgery of their existence.

Better to be the concubine of the rich and powerful. The property of an Equestrian. Or better still, the Patrician class, who were the royalty of Rome. To be used as a sex slave, to be at the whim of her owner and master or mistress. The Dominus or Domina.

Hope you like the little story.
I’ve been reading too many books about the Romans recently. I guess it shows.
Emma x

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