Maria of House Marcellus Ch. 02

Gaius Marcellus strode angrily along the corridors of his villa, clenching his fists at the thought of the temerity of his wayward sons, Flavio and Quintus. How dare they attempt to have the first taste of a slave that he himself had bought and paid for with the sweat of his brow. Those wastrels would have none of her, he resolved, his strong jaw clenching.

A maidservant suddenly crossed his path, her attention not on her own course. With a roar of pent up rage he struck her across the face with the back of his hand, sending her tumbling to the ground. When she had recovered herself enough to look up at him, her mouth trembling, on the edge of tears, her cheek purpling from his blow, he fought to keep himself in control, though the sight of her vulnerability and youth set his loins afire.

Gaius gripped her tunic in one hand and hauled her upright, the muscles of his arm rippling as he brought her to him. With her body pressed against his and her terrified face looking up at his, he felt his manhood strain to reach her through the white cloth of his robe. He contented himself with a snarled question through clenched teeth: "How... close to night is it?"

"It l...lacks but an hour, m... my lord," she stammered back, her near squeal almost causing Gaius to spend himself where he stood. He pushed her away from him with a growl, her impact with the corridor wall once more sending her to the ground where she lay with her pale legs exposed and gleaming in the final rays of day.

Gaius succumbed to his own desire and hauled her up by her tunic again, before tearing it in two from the neckline to the waist. She muffled a scream, her memory forcibly returning to the whispered stories of the penalties awaiting those maids who could not contain their voice in this household. Her breasts, luminescent and pale in the dusk light, were forced forward and up as Gaius thrust the torn tunic down her arms, pinning them and drawing them behind her as her back arched.

He groaned in anticipation as he saw her pristine globes leap upwards with the sudden force of her confinement, and heard her gasps of shock and pain. He guided her backwards until she reached the wall; as her bare back touched the stone, still warm from a day in the unyielding Italian sun, she found herself unable to think about the physical state of her body. She escaped to a world of warmth and safety, while her body was about to be entered against her will.

Meanwhile, Gaius had flung his toga over his shoulder, exposing himself to the world. His cock was so filled with tension it seemed he might spend where he stood. Its head seemed to move in the twilight as his mighty chest and defined lower body moved in rough counterpoint to his labored breathing. Drawing her to him, he began to rub his member between the soft lips of her entrance, each stroke drawing more of her womanly liquid from her, to ease his entry. At last he could stand no more, and, gripping her by the thighs, he drove into her.

The maidservant fell back into her body with a shock as though she had been dropped into freezing water. Her loins were burning with a pleasure so great it verged on pain, as Gaius began to thrust within her, the heat from his member spreading through her. Still pinned, she began to feel the first spasms of her pleasure, the fact of her inability to move her arms only stimulating her further. The softness of his skin inside her provided a counterpoint to the rigidity of him, as though someone had wrapped steel in silk.

Between strokes, Gaius pulled his maid's hair down her back, tilting her head back and exposing her white neck. Her vulnerability and youth set him afire, and he continued to press himself ever deeper within her soft entry, her tight grip on his cock driving him to paroxysms of joy. When he gasped out his tension inside her, she felt a great heat surge even deeper as he filled her. He held her to him with an iron grip until he had emptied himself, then slipped from her as he relaxed his body. As he released her, she fell to the floor, exhausted.

Gaius was not tired in the least. He felt as though he had been reinvigorated by this encounter with his lowly maid, and as he strode away down the corridor his thoughts filled with his evening appointment; the breaking of his new slave. His last bed-slave had broken far too soon, he hoped this one would last a little longer.