Laelia Ch. 01


Note: This is my first time, so please... be gentle. Just kidding. I encourage any criticism and hopefully a little positive feedback. As for the smuttiness factor, I am cranking it up to an 11 in the second and third chapter, so stay tuned.


Digibath <3

It was a typical evening for Laelia. After assisting the other slaves with clearing the meal, she was tending to her charge, Master Lucius. He was the old master of the house. In recent years he had become quite infirm, and that was why she was mixing a tincture at the moment.

He was flirting with her, as was his custom. She found it oddly amusing that a man of his age could still be a flirt. Laelia was so used to it, in fact, that she would banter right back with him, while allowing her mind to wander.

"...So I take it you have heard my son will be visiting me shortly, from Rome?"

Her reverie was shattered. "No, Master, I have not heard this. Is Master Julian coming just to visit you, or will he be here to attend to the villa's business?"

"As you know, my son is not the sentimental type, and it is very difficult for him to leave the Senate. I imagine he is here to make sure the estate is in order before my death."

"Oh no, Master, I am sure that he misses you and wishes for a break from Rome." He merely smiled at her; the girl was being kind by speaking these words.

Laelia was shocked by his calm manner, while speaking about his eventual death. She was sure, however, that Master Lucius was correct. Based on her medical knowledge, passed onto her from her adoptive father, she knew this.

The last time Master Julian had visited, she had been eighteen years old, and now she was twenty. She recalled her age because it had been on her birthday that she had nervously dropped a clean plate. Master Julian must have been furious; she received a lashing in the courtyard and had not been able to hide her tears. She was grateful that no permanent marks had been left on her pale Gallic flesh.

However, she had not dropped a plate since then! Laelia furrowed her brow. She hoped she could keep her wits about her this time around.

"Whatever his motivation is, my dear, he will be here within a fortnight. The other slaves have been told after their meal, and they will be preparing for his arrival shortly. However, we have a lot of time before his arrival. Right now, I am far more interested in your games of dice." He grinned at her, his toothless enthusiasm showing.

Laelia went on to defeat him once, and lose as convincingly as possible two times after. After he had gone to bed, she quietly went to her shared cubicula. Her roommates were already asleep, afforded earlier hours than she.

She didn't know why she was so flustered. Her hands shook slightly as she unpinned the braid coiled at the top of her head. A long wavy curtain of dark red was quickly re-braided, and left to hang straight. Laelia removed her outer long tunic, leaving her inner tunic, both of plain grey heathered wool. She removed her homemade lip tint with a bit of oil. I should not be affected by Master Julian returning. Of course he wishes to put his affairs in order. I will most likely not be sold after Master Lucius passes.

But from the look in Master Julian's eyes from his last visit, she was sorely afraid. No matter what her analytical mind told her; He seemed to always be looking at her, judging her worth. She was terrified constantly that she was performing her tasks incorrectly. She watched everything she said to Master Lucius and the other slaves around Master Julian.

What if I am sold? I do not mind my work here, but anywhere else... I could end up serving an unkind familia. I could end up dressing a very cruel woman's hair. As she thought of all the possibilities, she could not allow herself to think of the worst one; being sold to a disgusting man or woman who would use her body for sex, or even being sold to a brothel. She knew a nearby slave had refused a new Mistresses sexual advance. The young man was sold as a male prostitute, had contracted a horrible disease and died. Laelia knew that the possibilities were slim that she would ever deal with such a terrible situation. Nevertheless, the thought of change unnerved her.

She woke up in the middle of the night, and felt a slight unfurling, deep with her stomach. How strange. I have never felt anything like this. The feeling seemed to stem from her heart, and go straight down to her female organs. Her adoptive mother had passed away a few years prior. Perhaps she could have enlightened me. Laelia resisted the urge to "soothe" her inflamed female organs, afraid that one of the other three women in her cubicula would awaken. Before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep again.

The day had finally come. Laelia's panic from the first day had seemingly infected the entire country villa. Tables that Master Lucius had been too infirm to see where furiously scrubbed, drapes were taken down and beaten. At last, Master's Julian's body slave threw back the door, and they all stood in a line to greet him.

She had not been sure if her normal tunic would be appropriate. Most girls her age were "married" as slaves and wore long gowns, not long tunics. Laelia had begged one of the other girls to lend her something suitable, not sure why it suddenly mattered to her. And now she felt uncomfortable, the tighter and longer garment showing her figure off in a way she was not used to.

It had not been her imagination. His stormy grey eyes settled on her. Ye gods- I must be a terrible slave. I hate to be noticed- to be singled out. She tried to straighten her body even more, but found it impossible. Laelia wished that her body would become liquid; she could sink right into the hard floors. Luckily, he ignored the slaves. They collectively breathed a sigh of relief when he shut the villa's office's door. "Thank the gods!" muttered a guileless young boy, and brought a smile to her lips. "Oh Aidin- what would you know of the Gods?" she breathed, drawing laughter from the rest of the congregation. They went off to work.

Julian muttered to his male body slave, Eryx, "Have my father's nurse- the redhead- bring me some wine, in here. Don't tell her until she has put my father to bed. I will need to see where I will transfer her after my father passes." Eryx nodded, needing no further explanation. When they had both entered the room, the pale Gaul stood out, in a sea of darker slaves.

Despite the attention foisted upon her earlier, Laelia was in good spirits while she cared for and entertained Master Lucius. That strange feeling had come again, and even though it was odd to walk around with it inside of her stomach and chest, she had no issues performing her tasks. Master Lucius won three times at dice, and she won two, before he finally retired. She was worn out from the labor of the day, and tried to walk down the darkened hallway to go to sleep before she was caught by the wrist. She recognized the well-dressed slave who had followed Master Julian before.

"Master Julian needs you to bring him some wine. " He hoped that she would read between the lines, and not ask him any silly questions. In this light, the girl looked even younger than she had before. Eryx had no doubts of his Master's intentions, though he found it odd. His Master never bothered the slave girls, he mostly used whores.

Oh dear gods, he is going to tell me I am to be sold. Laelia felt her legs buckle beneath her, and her heart seemed to be trying to escape from her chest cavity. "I will go straight there. Sorry for his wait, Master Lucius could not fall asleep tonight." Grabbing a pitcher from the kitchen, she decided to fix her hair as best she could in a shard of mirrored glass she had found long ago. It would not do to look untidy, even if she was about to receive the worst news of her life. Laelia found her hands were shaking again, almost too much to work. So she ended up merely tucking the loose strands back into her braid, and putting on a new coat of balm. "This will have to do," she murmured.

Almost silently, she entered his office. Her chest felt too tight. She stood and tried not to tremble visibly.

"Ah, you are finally here. Good to see that my father is still as demanding, even in his poor health." He looked down at her chest, where she clutched the pitcher. Her breasts and her hands were trembling slightly. "Good to see that you can now hold a breakable item for more than a moment, as well. You may find it hard to believe that I did not call you in here to test you on that, or for wine, for that matter."

Laelia had her eyes cast downward out of deference and fear, and she did not see his lingering eye on her breasts. She was bracing herself for the terrible news, when she heard a key in the lock behind her. Why would he lock the door....unless he thinks I will try to get out? Is the news that terrible? Am I going to be beaten again for something I have done wrong? Her eyes shot up when she felt his breath on her neck. He did not touch her, but he whispered in her tiny ear;

"Why are you so fearful, girl? Every time I look at you, you start to shake."

The feeling in her stomach was rising; the fluttering went from her cunni to her throat. She swallowed hard and whispered, stuttering.... "Master, I am not afraid. I'm sorry- I must simply be tired."

"Was it that beating I gave you?" He was moving around to her front now, and as he walked, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I must say, it made quite the impression on me as well." He gently stroked a single finger down the side of her alabaster neck. She had to force herself to breathe again. He sat back down and looked at her, expecting a clear answer.

"Master- I do understand that you had to discipline me. I dropped the dish, and you cannot allow clumsy behavior to go unpunished." She looked into his stormy grey eyes, and then shyly looked down at the ground again. Her cheeks were turning red as her hair. "After all, if every slave dropped a plate, you would soon have no dishes at all." She bravely peeped through her long lashes at him, and immediately regretted her loss of composure. He was glaring at her as if she was doing something awful.

He thought about how lovely it had been. He had insisted on doing the beating himself, inside, for the poor thing's "modesty." His body slave hadn't thought anything of it; the girl would have been surrounded by interested observers has she been outside. But nevertheless, he had told his body slave to keep it as a secret, or suffer the same as her. No need for his increasingly pregnant wife to hear about this. Of course, at the time he had not known that she would die in the birth.

Julian led her into an empty stable, to an unused beam. Facing away from him, and with as much modesty as possible in the current situation, Laelia removed her outer tunic. She did not want to ruin one of her few dresses. The inner tunic frustrated him, concealing more than he would have liked. He could see an outline of where her legs stopped. While he was distracted, she had held out her pretty white wrists to him, reaching behind her.

"Please, Master, I'll be so careful not to do it in the future... please. I beg you to show some mercy."

His cock twitched at her pleading, while he focused on the outline of her slender legs in the garment. He tied up her wrists to the beam. Julian thought of pushing her onto her knees and fucking her pretty mouth... a nice supplication. But he knew it would lead to her being used against the barn wall. Julian did not want to debase himself with a slave, when he had an equally pretty, if slightly shrill, young wife, back at home. It would be an unspoken disappointment in his wife's eyes, if word broke out that he was fucking the slaves. No need to deal with her jealousy when he got home.

"Don't question my judgment, slave." Julian licked suddenly dry lips. "And I wouldn't want the others to hear your pleading..." Or crying, or anything else, for that matter. A piece of cloth in hand, he tied it round her charming mouth as a gag. Stepping back, he contemplated the task at hand. Julian had only done this a few times before, and every time, the slave had been male and much larger than her. Of course, he hadn't had to worry about anything between his legs rising then.

He selected the smallest whip from the wall, not necessarily a boon to her, as the lick of it was almost as sharp as one of his larger ones. He hesitated for a moment. Then, committing fully, he started to lay into her ass with as light of a hand as he could muster. Only fifteen... keep it to fifteen... that's what you told her when she broke the plate. She screamed muffled into the gag as each stroke landed. It excited him more than he cared to admit. His last stroke was somewhat less... controlled, cutting through the fabric of her woolen undergarment fully. Her alabaster skin now had a few welts, and all other marks were scratches. Oh, that skin.

"Stay here." As if she could do anything else, he smiled to himself. He adjusted his cock so that he could discreetly enter the house. He brought back a tube of salve and a wet rag. "This may hurt a bit." He pushed up her skirt, over her ass. While he had fully expected a scream, she did not make a sound. Julian found himself mesmerized by the slave's perfectly smooth ass. Well, perfectly smooth but for his welts.

If you tore the rest of her dress off, no one would know, or care. You could put some of the salve on and stuff her tight asshole with your prick... And it would feel so good, holding her white shoulders back, those bound arms helpless. Rocking her back and forth slowly on your lap, feeling your cock sliding in and out of that hot, taut hole. Using her pretty little body until you come, and then leaving her on the stable floor, dripping with your fluids.

He found himself hardening again, oddly enough.

She did whimper a bit when he stroked the rag across her fresh welts, and then started to rub the salve in. "I couldn't have you get an infection, as I am sure you know more than I. This villa is shorthanded as it is." He smiled, but she either didn't understand or didn't acknowledge. Typical stupid slave. He could still feel his cock pulsating, and her perfect ass was bare, her face turned away as she faced the wall. Not one to miss a chance, he removed her gag and dipped it in the salve. "I have to let you sit here for a moment. It will let the cream absorb better into your skin, rather than rub off on your... garment." He started to gently stroke his thick shaft with the gag. Thinking about using her for the last half hour, hardening constantly, had been too much to bear. He came all over the cloth within a few minutes. Trying to breathe normally... He led her back into the house.

He told her never to do it again.

And now he found himself, much the same way. Struggling to breathe normally, but outwardly, physically he knew he appeared perfectly normal. Luckily, his senate experience had taught him to bluff his true thoughts. He had asked her a question about his father's health and medicine, just to keep her standing there during his daze.

"Well, sir. He is very lively but as you know, liver illness does not improve; it simply can be discouraged from getting better. I can see in his skin, it still has the yellow tinge. But we have removed all the wine from his diet- while he never drank more than a typical amount, my father always told me that is beneficial for those with this condition of the weak liver. But due to his age and the length of time he has had the disease... I fear for the worst soon." She noticed him nodding with concern; however, she hadn't given him any new information. They were simply trying to keep him alive at this point.

"As you know girl, he really doesn't have much longer. I brought you in here to mention your future to you. I don't plan on selling you. And you are far too talented to work in the fields. You will be working in my villa in Rome, as a scribe and an occasion physician for my slaves and I."

She saw him still glancing at her, from the corner of her downcast eyes, so she swallowed hard.

He really was enjoying the long dress on her. It made her look like a just married girl. He could also see a lot more of her breasts than before. He felt his control start to slip, looking at her. Julian needed to keep himself in check. As tantalizing as the thought of pushing her against the wall and forcing himself inside was, he didn't want to harm her. And he was in a dark place tonight.

"You can go. Please put the torches in the hall out, when you do."

She nodded and turned away, only to hear his voice again.

"One more thing, slave. You should wear that style of dress more often, it suits you."

Laelia turned around in surprise, making eye contact despite herself. Was it her imagination, or had he flicked his eyes up and down her body when she looked at him again?

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