Fun and Games in Ancient Rome

***Authors Disclaimer***

As some of you may have already realized, this is a work of fiction.

As such, it should only be seen as a work of fiction, and not a "how to" manual, or an endorsement of enslaving barbarians for sexual exploitation.

Every character and every scene and every action is all fiction.

Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, and also probably hilarious.

Every character in this work of fiction is of legal age, and considering the story is set in ancient Rome, they are probably a few thousand years old by now.

The story explores themes like non-consent in the form of slavery, bdsm, sm, bondage, forced orgasm, oral, vaginal, anal, deflowering of virgins,  and probably also some really kinky stuff.

While all of this may not apply to the first chapter, we are certainly going to be heading in that direction.

It has a male protagonist, and female slaves.

If any of the above offends you, you might want to skip this story.

Or don't, I am not your real mom.

Just don't say I didn't warn you.

***End of Disclaimer*

It was my twenty-first birthday, and my Uncle Marcus, freshly home from conquering the barbarian tribes, had promised me that for my birthday, I could have my pick of the fresh slaves he had brought to Rome as part of his loot.

The slave pens were surprisingly clean. I had expected them to be foul pits, full of stinking refuse and human misery, but as Marcus had explained it to me, it was important to make sure the slaves were as healthy and fit as they possibly could be, before putting them up for auction.

It would be a poor slave master that would risk his profits, and that of his patrons, by not ensuring the comfort and hygiene for the slaves was top notch, and that they were both fed and watered.

More so for the women, than the men. 

Most of the men would be simple workers, and men being men, were more likely to cause trouble.

Especially a fresh batch of newly enslaved barbarians.

Women, and in particular younger women, were useful for more than just brute work, and were far more likely to accept their fate, to bend their head to the will of the gods, and the will of their master.

Sure, some men were more valuable, if they had marketable skills, but if any of these ones could speak more than a hundred words in latin, I would eat my sandals. The barbarians had no formal education, the druids hoarded all of it for themselves, and those were almost never caught alive.

It didn't matter much to me, I was not here to look for an accountant or an architect. My father handled all the serious business of the family, I was just here to have a bit of fun, and pick out a few new toys to bring home.

As I looked around, I noticed that almost all the slaves here were adults, young and fit, with a few more mature sprinkled in. Elders would rarely be worth the trouble of bringing them to market, so their absence did not surprise me much.

"Where's all the kids?" I asked my uncle. 

"I would have thought you caught a lot of those too?"

Marcus shrugged.

"Most kids are not worth that much, and those that are, are usually sold by contract, long before they reach the market."

"Contract?" 

"Temples and academies require a lot. With not enough Greek slaves to go around the academies make a tidy profit taking in kids, and giving them some education, before selling them to wealthy patrons." 

"Makes sense." I agreed.

"Those who turn out to be useless, are sold to the big farms. There is always a need for small hands there. But it is almost a loss for us."

Listening to Uncle Marcus talk so casually about capturing and enslaving barbarians always excited me. Father was wealthier by far, but uncle was fast catching up. Another successful campaign, and he might eclipse even father in wealth. 

He didn't let it inflate his ego, he was a modest and humble man, with no need for choleric outbursts or boasting.

He knew his worth, both as a warrior and as a commander.

In many ways, Uncle Marcus was the man I was trying to model myself after.

Father wanted me to become a merchant first and foremost, like himself, but in my view, a merchant who was also a warrior like Uncle Marcus, would stand head and shoulders above the rest.

We had walked past several wings of the slave pens, when we arrived at the one that held uncles slaves.

A couple of armed guards, armed much like proper legionnaires, guarded the entrance, and on spotting Uncle, stood to attention with the crispness and precision of any legionnaire worthy of the name.

"At ease men. Any trouble?" Uncle enquired.

"None, Sir." 

"Good. Carry on."

It took them a second to realize they should be opening the heavy door for us, but once they did, they scrambled to get it done.

As well respected uncle Marcus was with his men and his family, he was even more feared by those who did not know him as well.

I had been begging my father to allow me to go on campaign with my uncle, but so far it had been turned down every time.

Father claimed that it was far better for me to stay in Rome and work on my connections, because while there might be good money in defeating the barbarians, one day they would all be tamed. But Rome, he said, would be eternal.

I had a feeling he might relent, once he saw how influential uncle Marcus was getting. 

It was said that when he finally retired, he might even become a senator!

Entering the pen, I was amazed at how many slaves there were.

They were separated into several cells, with two cells full of what might have been around a hundred men, all seemingly strong and fit, though several wore fading marks of the lash on their backs, a few wore more recent ones.

Most of the rest of the cells were packed with women, and even a couple of babies. 

I raised an eyebrow and looked at my uncle.

"What's with the babies? I thought they were not worth much?"

"They are not worth two bent sestertii, but a wet nurse is actually worth a surprisingly good amount of money. So we let them keep the baby to keep the milk flowing. The owner gets to decide if they want to let her keep the baby, or if they will get rid of it."

It made perfect sense, I knew plenty of ladies of class, who did not want to have their tits ruined by having a baby hanging from them. To them it would be worth a lot of money, to have someone else on hand to keep their kids fed.

"If you want to have a taste, you can just go ahead, it's your birthday, you can have a little fun. See anyone you want to have a go at, feel free. Just don't deflower too many of the virgins, if you don't intend to bring them home after." Uncle said, as calmly as if he was asking me if I wanted green or black olives.

"Virgins? Where? How can you even be sure?" I asked, suddenly looking around much more intently.

Uncle Marcus chuckled.

"Left hand cages, those two, all virgins. I paid a physician and an experienced midwife to examine all of them, and any they both claimed were virgins, got put in the left hand cages. So any you deflower, we have to transfer to the right hand cages, or you can keep them, if you want to select them as your birthday present."

I must admit that the idea of deflowering some of these barbarian girls really got me going, and I could definitely feel my cock making a tent out of my toga.     

Uncle had said I could have as many as five as my present, and I was not going to be a brat, and go around deflowering more than I was going to keep, like a fox mad with bloodlust, killing every fox inside a henhouse.

Noticing a cell with just a single tall red headed barbarian woman, who was currently tied by her wrists to a flogging post, I had to satisfy my curiosity.

"What about that one, Uncle, is she a particularly rebellious specimen?" I asked, gesturing to the barbarian in question.

As if she understood that I was talking about her, even if she probably did not understand more than a couple of handfuls of Latin words yet, she straightened up, and shot me a proud glare.

She was completely naked, except for strips of leather wrapped around her wrists, no doubt to protect her from being marked by the rough ropes that tied her to the post.

She had plenty of red stripes and welts across her backside, her very shapely butt, and down the back of her thighs.

They were not bad, I had seen people whipped to death, skin and muscle torn to ribbons. This had mostly not even broken the skin.

"Ah, she is rather... special. Not very rebellious, though I did think so at first. No.. It would be a shame to spoil it, I think it will be more fun to show you."

Uncle led me into her cell, and on a table to one side, I saw a rather large assortment of whips, rods and canes. 

The barbarian started to talk as we entered, and even if she could not turn to face us properly, she twisted her neck enough to look at us defiantly, her blue-green eyes fiery and angry.

"Take this one, and give her a few lashes. Don't worry, the cords have no knots, so you won't be able to harm her much." Uncle said, handing me a cat of nine tails.

It was as he said, the cords were nice and heavy, straight leather, but no knots on the cords. Without those, the cat would have no claws, but it could still sting pretty nicely, if swung with enough vigor and enthusiasm.

Not one to show weakness in front of my uncle, I took the whip, got into a nice wide stance, and really put my hips and back into it, as I let the cords swing and strike straight at her beautiful and well muscled ass.

A hiss of pain escaped the defiant redhead, and a nice red mark appeared almost instantly.

Aiming for the other side, to ensure a nice and even spread of red on her ass, I proceeded to swing at her, disregarding her loud and no doubt venomous protests.

A third lash, then a fourth.

Every time I landed a strike, she would renew her defiant tirade, and even though I did not understand any of the words, I am pretty sure I got the gist of it.

She was probably questioning my lineage, the quality of my breeding, and the size of my manhood. 

You know, the usual things a defiant slave would come up with, in the face of a just and well deserved punishment.

Having it delivered in the barbarian tongue did not bother me, rather it was a nice change, as I paid less attention to the words, but instead saw it as a form of music.

She was my instrument, and with the whip I would play her as such.

I set about ensuring that the skin on her backside got a nice and uniform red. 

First the butt, then the back, and then the thighs.

Suddenly her knees grew weak, and her legs started shaking.

The strands of the whip had snaked between her thighs, but only barely, leaving nice red stripes on her soft inner thigh.

I aimed another strike of the cat at almost the same place, but let it slightly deeper between her legs. Her reaction was most pleasing, as she could not stop herself from moaning and her hips from bucking yet again.

I was about to swing again, but uncle caught my wrist.

"Now look at this!" He said, and as he stepped up to her, he slid his hand over her crimson butt cheeks, and down between her legs, thoroughly groping her sex.

Then he showed me his hand, covered in what must have been her juices!

"She gets off on being punished. That is not something you see very often, but I think someone will have a lot of fun with that." Uncle explained.

"Here, I will show you." 

Uncle started to whip her with exquisite precision, raining lashes between her thighs, once in a while making sure to strike deeply, sometimes the strands would dance into her crack, and a final strike that I am sure landed straight against her pussy, seemed to send her over the edge.

She was shrieking and panting and writhing in pleasure, her legs and hips bucking wildly.

If not for the ropes around her wrists, she would have fallen to the floor.

I felt my cock throbbing under the toga, aching for release.

I had seen slaves whipped before, without half as much of a reaction from my cock.

But this, watching her get off on being flogged, was somehow lighting my fire in the most powerful way.

Suddenly I was filled with conflicting needs.

I wanted to flog her and watch her cum again and again, as the lashes rained down on her, but I also wanted to shove my cock into her slave cunt, and fill her with my seed.

"So what do you think?" Uncle asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"I... uh... That was most remarkable, Uncle. Thank you."

"Yes, she is a rare gem. It is a shame she won't last long."

"What do you mean, uncle? She seems fit and strong!"

"Well, a senator has claimed right of first refusal, so if she goes on the block, he can buy her outright. And he simply does not care to restrain himself with girls like these. He will not stop until he kills her."

"That is such a waste, uncle. why would he break her, if she is such a rare gem?"

"Well, when you have inherited such a vast fortune, you don't care about all the work it took to gather it, so spending it frivolously is of no importance. He will just buy another like her, when one comes to market." Uncle sighed.

"IF she goes to the block, uncle, you said IF?"

"Yes, well, if she is claimed for the personal use of me or my family, she will never get on the block. But I have no time to care for untrained barbarian slaves in my household."

Uncle handed me the whip again, and gave me a nudge towards the gorgeous barbarian girl, who had now regained her footing.

Most of her red striped body seemed to glisten with a light sheen of sweat, but her thighs seemed absolutely soaked with what I could only assume was her nectar.

On the other hand, why assume, when I could easily verify.

I stepped up close to her, and let my fingers slide down her crack, past the puckered asshole, that seemed to quiver at my touch, and down to her red hot slit, that was completely soaked. 

As my fingers parted her lips, I felt even more of her nectar flowing from her slave cunt, then even more as I shoved two fingers inside of her.

The way her cunt instantly tightened around my fingers, told me she was not far from being able to cum again.

Smiling at that notion, I decided to see if I could get her there this time.

Taking a step back, I licked at my nectar covered fingers, and found the taste very enjoyable.

The perfect amount of sweet and tart, and with a little extra something that sent pleasure through my body, and made me slightly dizzy, like after a particularly strong drink.

Greedily I licked my fingers clean, and while I was sorely tempted to just bury my face in her and devour every last drop, I decided I would first be the cause of even more of her delicious ambrosia.

As I got into position, the barbarian wench definitely noticed, and started glaring daggers at me, while once more protesting the unjustness of her punishment or the quality of my lineage.

It was honestly a little funny to imagine what insults she might be hurling at me, so I found myself chuckling with amusement, as I started to flog her already red striped back side.

Not wanting to go straight for her thighs or cunt, I started out higher up, coloring more of her back, before going lower.

As I went lower, I noticed how she bent forward slightly, exposing more of her crack and thighs to me. 

Perhaps it was without her conscious desire, or perhaps she wanted me to give her another orgasm, even if she kept up her verbal abuse.

It did not matter which, as I was finding the way she reacted most pleasing. 

I started trailing lashes up and down her thighs, and before long I saw her cunt had started to drip. With every lash I landed, she was gyrating her hips, as if she was trying to catch the strands and somehow force them to rub against her needy cunt.

I found my own breathing getting heavy, and my subligaculum very constricting.

I was not sure if it would do for me to release myself from the confines of the offending undergarment, even if Uncle and I had attended the same orgy on more than one occasion, I did not know the rules of proper decorum when visiting the slave pens.

One look in my uncle's direction persuaded me it would be fine.

He had a slave girl kneeling in front of him, bobbing her face on his cock, and if not for the distracting barbarian writhing in front of me, I might have spent a minute watching, as she somehow managed to cram most of uncles sizeable cock inside of her mouth and throat. 

From an untrained barbarian, such things were not to be expected, but I guess uncle must have been training her on the trip to Rome, or he would not risk putting his cock in her mouth.

One suicidal slave with sharp teeth, could turn his family tree into a stump.

"Having a fun birthday, nephew?" Uncle asked me, with a wink.

"The best one so far, Uncle, thank you!" I replied, as I shoved my subligaculum down my thighs, letting them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them.

It felt so good, to have my cock stand up proudly under my toga, instead of being so restricted.

With renewed focus, I set about giving the gorgeous barbarian in front of me the lashing she so clearly needed.

When I started to aim for her inner thighs, starting at the knees and working my way up, I noticed she even spread her legs a little further apart, affording me more room to maneuver.

When I got to within four or five inches of her cunt, she started to buck and gyrate like she had before, panting and moaning more than she was cursing.

But when I finally started to land strikes straight at her asshole and cunt, she lost control completely.

With a keening sound, she came so hard that her knees folded completely, before she managed to push herself up again, her ass straining as far backwards as she was able, encouraging me to land another lash on her most sensitive parts.

Not that I needed any encouragement, I was only too eager to cause her more pain and pleasure. 

Another lash and another, each causing her knees to give out, as the most amazingly powerful orgasms seemed to roll through her, and her cunt was positively drooling her ambrosia on the floor. 

A final lash had her unable to regain her footing for a few moments, as her body kept spasming and twitching, her throat starting to sound hoarse, as she had given up all pretense at trying to form words, and was just moaning and panting wordlessly.

Stepping close to her, I dipped my fingers in her liquid pleasure, and brought it to my mouth.

Once again, the taste of her brought me a dizzying burst of pleasure, and I was sorely tempted to bury my face in her snatch and drink every last drop, but it would have been a bit awkward, the way she was tied to the post.

Instead I put my hips to her ass, pulling her close against me with one hand, while another slipped underneath, guiding my cock against her burning hot cunt.

She seemed to realize what I was about to do, even in her orgasm addled state, and tried feebly to pull away. But she had no real strength and even less leverage, so without paying much heed to her effort, I pushed my cock inside her.

Just an inch at first, to really savor the way her cunt clenched around me, still pulsing with the waves of her orgasm.

It was almost enough to have me shoot my cum inside of her then and there, but by sheer willpower I held back.

I wanted to explore her more deeply, before I let her have my seed.

When I felt my urgent need to cum subside slightly, I started to push deeper, luxuriating in the way her almost painfully tight cunt adjusted to my intrusion, slowly opening up like a flower in the morning sun.

Finally I was fully inside of her, all the way to my balls, my cockhead nestled right up against her cervix.

It felt so good, the tight heat of her core squeezing me tightly.