Slave to the Romans Pt. 01

Under other circumstances I might have been sorry for Domina. Apparently she had been quite pretty and had married what seemed like a promising young man. However, this promise was not fulfilled, contrasted by the success of his brothers: one in the army, one in law. Of course the greatest duty of a Roman wife was to provide sons, which she had not been able to do. As she got older and less attractive to her husband, this became increasingly unlikely.

Thus she was a woman with little to do and many people to do it for her, who felt she was overworked and not appreciated (the last being true). But it was not our fault, and we didn't deserve to be beaten just because she was annoyed.

My previous owner had used some twigs in cloth which hurt but did not cut the skin. This master used a cane and sometimes did it so hard that it drew blood. Once I had spilled some wine and he called Cretus to bring the cane. I had to lie on the floor and he beat my buttocks with increasing enthusiasm, which must have got him excited because he started buggering me with no oil. The pain in my bleeding buttocks and in my hole was bad but I held on and managed not to yell. When he had finished, he just said "Go." After that Domina forbade him from punishing her slaves, and got Luna to beat me when required.

One day she went out with Luna (she in a sedan, Luna walking, of course) leaving me to deal with some clothing. The cook did some laundry and most we sent out, but with some delicate silk items I washed them by hand. Dominus called for me and Cretus, and buggered me, then sent Cretus out on an errand and got working with his scribe slave. This was the chance Sextus had been waiting for, as they have a jug of wine with them in the office and are unlikely to call for anything. His job is of course to guard the door, but also to look after security in general, so he often goes around the perimeter inside, and checks on visiting slaves. He has some visible scars and is quite strong, though gone a bit soft with a belly since his days as a soldier.

"Now listen here," he said. "You're a very pretty girl. If you are nice to me, you will find I am a good and useful friend."

I said "You want to fuck me, don't you?"

"Of course," he leered. "Smart as well as pretty. How about it?"

"What would happen if I told the master?"

"I would say you kept on begging me, until I could no longer resist. They know I am a simple soldier and a Roman. They will believe me, but they don't trust you. Come on. It won't be so bad. What's one more cock?"

I said "You do know I am a virgin and the master only uses my arse?"

"Shit!" he said. "Oh well, better than nothing. Are you going to do it or am I going to make trouble?"

I decided to let him, and we went to his small room by the door. As rapes go, it was quite considerate. There wasn't much room, so I stood with my hands on the wall while he put a little oil on his cock and entered me. He was bigger than Dominus, as befitting his lower status. He then just felt around me, especially my breasts, expressing his appreciation before starting to thrust. Though of course I had no choice, he was not trying to humiliate me and he didn't own me, he was just a simple soldier enjoying a woman. Unlike the feeling of disgust I had with the Dominus, I was more neutral. This is what happened to women, so I put up with it. But I had to admit, it felt less unpleasant than with Dominus, and it was good to be appreciated in an honest way. I just wished it was Cretus, and thinking of him, my cunt became wet. Yes, if I was honest, there was a little pleasure.

At the end he said "Thank you, Nubia." He had recognised me as a human being, not an object! Perhaps he was not so bad, but I didn't trust him. Thereafter, whenever he thought he could get away with it, he also buggered me. The third time he showed me a bronze coin. He said "I am allowed to have some money and so I go to a brothel. You, dear Nubia, are far better than any of the whores, so I will put a coin here for you. If I gave it to you, then you would be accused of stealing, but I promise you it will be here if ever you can make use of it." What could I say? I could not imagine any circumstance in which I could have and spend money of my own, but if it pleased him, then he could do it. If there had been any altars to my own gods in the town, I would have asked him to make an offering, but of course there were none.

This then was my life, being used and abused and it might have gone on for many years until there was a great change.

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