Slave of Rome The Emperor's Obsession. Book Two Read online

  Contents

  Copyright etc

  1. Sana

  2. Choosing a Sword

  3. Myra Meets Commodus

  4. Dinner

  5. After Dinner

  6. Saturnalia

  Writer's Note

  Copyright @ 2013 Alex Carlsbad All rights reserved.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, in part or in full, without express written consent from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote short passages in a review. All characters depicted are above the age of eighteen. This is a work of fiction and in no way condones acts of violence, sexual or otherwise.

  Adult Reading Maternal

  The material contained within this book is for mature audiences only. It contains graphic sexual content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and above.

  Except for the historical characters of Marcus Aurellius and Emperor Commodus, whose real-life personae have been modified to suit the author’s needs, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  "Now, slave, your training can truly begin," and with that Josephus had simply stood up and left. He hadn't even bothered to finish what he had started. He had left her there standing with her legs apart, hands at her back, naked, willing, waiting — a being of pure feeling. Judging by the look of wild hunger he had cast upon her naked form, Myra knew he not only wanted her, but rather — needed her body. But somehow, he had made himself leave, his massive form of supple muscles, a scarred being of raw animal hunger, he had slipped out the door, allowing the finality of the lock falling into place to seal her solitude.

  She waited, keeping the position he had ordered wondering if perhaps it was a test of some sort. But as time went by she realized that he wouldn’t be coming back. At least not now. Myra huddled back into her bed, tucked herself naked under the covers, shivering and afraid to so much as get up and plead for someone, anyone to bring her breakfast.

  Cold and miserable, it took Myra quite some time to fall back into a troubled restless sleep that brought to agonizing life the dark form of a tall handsome soldier, old wounds criss-crossing his velvet skin. He looked at her, an expression filled with languid misery, in his eyes -- reflections of invisible demons engaged in unfathomable struggle.

  In her dream, Myra realized he wasn’t alone. Together with him there was yet another man, one of pure and utter darkness, one whose presence she felt only by the void of light he left, rather than the reflections he cast. It was as if his form sucked the sun rays out from the space around him. She felt that creature of darkness lift a hand and suddenly grab a hold of her. She started screaming, a small yelp of frightened astonishment that fast blossomed into a wail of utter desperation.

  Her eyes flew open and she saw the most beautiful creature she had ever witnessed looking down at her, an expression of genuine concern painted upon her exotic features. A Nubian girl, or woman rather, stark naked except for a gold chain of delicate metal links hanging around her proportionate abdomen was standing by her bed. In her arms she held a tray of exquisite fruits, and a bowl from which the most delicious aroma rose to make Myra's empty stomach lurch in despair.

  ''Hello," Myra ventured. She smiled a cautious greeting and then conscious of her own lack of clothing, she pivoted her legs around and stood out of the tiny bed.

  Myra felt the black girl tower over her. Why did everyone she met here, in Rome, make her feel so small, so vulnerable? The girl was beautiful. Myra watched as she walked over to the corner of the room and deposited the tray on the small table there. She couldn't help but stare at her muscled form as it swayed with mesmerizing regularity. The girl turned, and Myra blushed to the very tips of her toes. The black girl smiled the most sparkling smile she had ever seen. Myra straightened to try and make up for her small height.

  Myra felt her eyes drawn to slave’s body as she arranged the plates of delicious food. Her tummy grumbled and she blushed.

  "You are hungry, milady. You should eat." Her melodious voice was heavily accented. Myra didn't answer or say a thing, her mind torn between the animal hunger for the steaming plate of food and the raw desire that the naked woman's presence elicited in her. The woman drew closer and carried up a smaller plate with tiny morsels of meat that were still simmering. She picked up one and unflinchingly brought it to Myra's lips. Somehow her skin wasn't affected by the temperature of the sizzling morsel even as she held it in her fingers and brought it to Myra's quivering lips.

  "Blow on it; it's hot, milady." Myra blew to cool the meet, worried that if she didn't hurry the woman’s skin would scar, and somehow she would be to blame. It tasted even better than she had expected, whether it was a result of the skill of the cook or the touch of the woman who took it upon herself to silently hand-feed her all the remaining pieces from the plate, Myra didn't know. She stood mesmerized, the experience of being fed like a small child — a decadence beyond compare. At one point the slave stopped and retrieved a goblet of wine that she offered and Myra drank down gratefully.

  "What is your name?" Myra asked.

  "Sana," the young woman replied.

  "I'm Myra," she said.

  Myra didn't know how or why but she found it impossible to tear her eyes away from the woman's deep brown irises. Her eyes were so large and deep, she felt she might soon get lost in them. The woman’s raw sensuality kept tugging on Myra’s subconscious, the acute knowledge of its sinfulness only doubling and tripling her desire. Myra had never felt so embarrassed of herself. Something new, something odd and disturbing was coursing through her body. Sana's figure was perfect in her eyes, and yes, she now understood she wanted her, the same way she had wanted Silvanus her husband. Her own emotions scared Myra and petrified her. The slave had finished feeding her and by now had put away the plates and come back to stand by her. Myra felt she was being scrutinized, the slave’s eyes roaming over her body causing Myra to quiver in response. She was so near Myra could sense her, feel her, taste her scent on her tongue. Her heart pounded in her chest as she came to the realization that she wanted to kiss her.

  Then the most remarkable thing happened, Sana bent forward, her eyes acquiring a dreamy look and she sheepishly smiled and kissed Myra's neck making little pecks with her soft and hot pouty lips.

  "You taste like an empress, milady," Sana said as her hands went around Myra’s waist clasping each other at the small of her back.

  "Don’t," whispered Myra, her voice raspy and low.

  "Milady, the man that just left, he will not be coming back," Myra felt the woman’s eyes caress her body. It was as if she knew of her pent up tension, her desire. But I have a husband — Silvanus, it is for him I am here, allowing myself to be trained, to be handled by Josephus, to serve the emperor, for my family, not for me, this lust is wrong, sinful, unwanted…

  Gently, slowly, Myra turned around, leaning back, feeling Sana's large nipples dig into her back. She took the woman's larger hands and guided them up to where her body wanted them to go.

  Oh Saturn, oh Jupiter, help me be strong, help me resist this temptation, this sin…

  But what is there to lose?

  Where did that thought come from? What impish creature had breathed it into her mind?

  Who would know; you deserve some pleasure…

  I would know, and I’d never forget, not if I allow myself to feel the joy.

  But you did like it, you did enjoy being with Josephus only hours ago. Let yourself go, release your restraints!

  Shut up, voice, go away! Unggghhhh…

  Sana was still kissing her neck, a trail of soft pe
cks nibbling her way up to her earlobe. Breathing into it she said: "You are truly beautiful, milady." Sana's hands cupped Myra’s breasts stroking them lightly, massaging and clasping them into her forefingers which she then rolled.

  Myra sighed shallowly, one breath after the next, her excitement growing immeasurably with every twirl of Sana's expert fingers. She turned, anxious and apprehensive, tears forming in her eyes.

  "Shhh...," the black woman whispered, the sound of her voice barely audible above Myra's own heartbeat. "You’ll like it, I promise…"

  Myra turned to face her. Sana took Myra's face in her hands and making deliberate eye contact she led her lips down until they brushed ever so gently with Myra’s. And then their tongues met and they kissed passionately. Their mouths seeking out each other, breaking for an instant, then delving in again, lips kissing, mouths and tongues seeking, finding and sucking in pure joy. Time slowed down and then stopped.

  Myra found that even though her body was moving, grasping, panting in feverish activity, her mind had found an inner tranquility, a place of peace where it basked in pure happiness. Suddenly Myra saw herself take control, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around Sana's wide hips. They pivoted and tumbled back into the tiny cot.

  At this moment both of them started losing themselves, Myra on her back, her breasts flattening out and lolling sideways, Sana on top, gorging herself upon the luscious orbs. After awhile of allowing herself to be suckled and nibbled on, Myra suddenly pushed herself and in a move not unlike that of a practiced wrestler came up on top of Sana, who squealed in surprise and delight. Myra slid down the bigger girl’s body until her lips found what they had been seeking. She wrapped them around her pray and took the slave’s smaller black breast in her mouth and sucked hard, as hard as she could. Sana gasped and looked down and watched as Myra took the orb into her mouth, all of it, until teeth found her chest, tongue washing over and around the nipples and the nubbin of a breast.

  Not relinquishing her mouth's prize, Myra allowed her mound to seek out and find Sana's, one knee on each side as she straddled the beautiful woman. They both started grinding and gyrating their bellies and mounds together, a belly dance of raw emotion, sweat trailing down between their breasts, dripping, drenching the bedsheets. And then Myra sensed Sana's body tense as she prepared to delve into a mind-bending orgasm.

  "I'll put my mouth on you, Sana, down there…," it was a statement, not a question.

  "Oh, milady, oh..." she nodded weekly, surprised, all of a sudden surrendering, accepting the younger woman’s lead, her firsts tight, knuckles digging into the small bed's covers wet with their sweat.

  Myra lifted herself slightly as she slid her hand down between their tummies. She kept looking up, her eyes fixed on the African woman's stare, both of them panting for air. As she reached the other woman's pubic hair she was surprised at its satin silkiness. Myra almost felt catatonic, the closeness, the ultimate nakedness, the forbidden fruit — almost too much, the emotions overwhelming her young mind. She saw Sana's eyes widen even more.

  Then she allowed her mouth to follow the wanton beacon of the woman's love lubricant, a delightfully musky aroma sending bolts of ecstasy through to her brain.

  Her lips found Sana's labia gently open, the skin of her pussy naked and soft. She was surprised by its smoothness, she ran her hands along the woman's inner thighs, caressing, feeling them. The large muscular thighs with the tendons barely stretched felt beautifully flawless under her palms and fingers.

  Myra wanted to be cautious, afraid to inexpertly ruin a delectable moment that she wanted to last forever. Sana groaned and started noticeably shaking, so Myra took that as an encouragement and ran her lips and tongue up and down her labia. Then she unfolded the inner lips and delved all the way and inside her, her tongue surrounded by the muscular pussy walls.

  "Oh in the name of the gods, milady, yes, yes, oh…" Myra loved the sensation of the delectable juices streaming down her face as her tongue thrust in and out.

  "Make me come, milady… Please… Arggghhh…" Sana begged, her voice breathless.

  Myra wasn't sure what she ought to do but her body commanded her as if of its own accord and as she slid her face back down, her lips unsheathed the little bead of the woman's clit. She touched it with her lips, then ran her tongue across, then she sucked it all in, scrapping her teeth across it.

  That was when an exquisite contortion spasmed through Sana’s body, slamming her into one orgasm after another.

  Sana was breathless and Myra wiggled up to her, kissing her full on the lips, holding her, idly stroking her engorged nipples.

  "Milady?" asked Sana. "I really would want to do the same for you... Please?"

  Myra smiled and nodded gently. Sana rolled her onto the side and delicately caressed her lolling breasts. They kissed, slowly at first, but then with increasing passion and lust. Then she moved down and her mouth found Myra's engorged nipples. She gently teased them but then her mouth started taking turns, first kissing, sucking, suckling, one nipple, then the next, the slurping wet sounds making Myra's body glow with inexperienced lust. As if on springs, her legs shot apart and Sana trailed her mouth down and away from her breasts, onto her bellybutton that she circled and then washed with her tongue.

  Sana moved her head still lower until her breath fell upon Myra's splayed labia. She pushed her face in to get to her pussy and Myra squealed. Sana kissed the top gently, too lightly for Myra's feverish desire, she was arching her buttocks up and tried to grasp Sana's head with her hands to lead her in. But just then she felt the shock of Sana's tongue as she sucked in her clit between her lips, her tongue squashed out, sawing back and forth, over and around it.

  Myra relinquished any control her body still clung to and let out a deep guttural moan, "Uunghh, arghh, Sana… yes!"

  The black girl let go of her clit and forced her prodigiously long and wide tongue all the way into Myra's pussy, sinking as deep as it would reach, sending the inexperienced girl into a cascade of shallow breaths as she readied herself to explode into an orgasm. Sana snuck in a long brown finger and as she started fingering Myra with one hand, she used her other to gently squeeze a hold of one of her nipples while her tongue searched out and revealed yet again Myra's clitoris.

  This time she sucked it in like a morsel of food and as she held it between her lips, she started flicking her tongue over it in ever increasing rapidity.

  In a wail of incredible intensity Myra let her body enter the maelstrom of the most violent orgasm she had ever experienced. She nearly passed out, her mind grasping to consciousness as her fingers and toes curled and grasped at the sheets. Slowly it began coming to a halt as her series of orgasms finally subsided.

  They nuzzled and cuddled for a long while after. At one point Sana offered to go get something to eat or drink, but Myra declined. She needed to nuzzle into Sana and refused to let her leave under any circumstances. The way Josephus had excited her earlier that morning and left without finishing what he had started, Myra had needed the release like nothing in else in a long time. Now her body relaxed into Sana and there she found the much needed comfort she had sought for so long. They slowly drifted asleep.

  Chapter Two

  When Commodus agreed to meet Petronius, the great general who was known the world over as the brilliant leader who had cut down the accursed Persians at the Helespont, he did so with some trepidation. For his reputation preceded him, and it was fearsome indeed. Already advanced in age, he had served with Caligula and then with Trajan and had established himself as a tactician of great prudence and wisdom, a leader, who the legions gladly followed wherever he might lead them. The young emperor knew well that meeting a man of such import carried with itself a certain potential for embarrassment and ridicule which in Rome could all too easily lead to serious consequences.

  That was why Commodus chose that they should first meet in the gladiatorial gymnasium where gladiators would normally practice and warm up before battle. If there
was one thing the emperor didn't doubt, it was his own prowess with a sword. He always felt most comfortable in an arena. It was therefore with some surprise when the young emperor decked out it in the ancient war armor of the gladiators — boiled leather and chain mail, witnessed the old general walk over to him and kneel.

  "Sire, please accept my humblest homage and grant your servant your benevolent good will."

  The emperor was truly impressed with the general's humility and after the polite banter required by protocol, they quickly found common topics of conversation that piqued his interest. The general presented him with a sword made with such exquisite craftsmanship, of a shine so brilliant and pure, Commodus could almost hear its glimmer sing in his ears.

  "The only sword better than this one, Sire, would be a magical one dipped in the flames of the Eastern wizards. It bends like no other and yet does not break," with that the old general leaned on it making it almost double in two.

  "Why don't we have our own swordsmiths make swords of that quality for our legionaries and praetorians?" asked the emperor suddenly concerned for the safety of his empire lest warriors armed with such steel chose to fall upon it.

  "The metal is extremely rare, sire. This sword, I got from a swordsmith in Damascus but the steel it was made out of, I was told it comes from the east, over the horizon, over the great deserts of Arabia. I have inquired about procuring it and have been told that the traders will only exchange it for an equal weight of pure gold or female slaves of unrivaled beauty."

  "Well, then, we better start procuring us some beautiful wenches as we are sure out of gold," Commodus chuckled. And with that the emperor suddenly chucked the sword into the arena. He motioned for one of the gladiators to use it and thus demonstrate the blade’s true quality in battle. In two minutes the warrior that took it had dispatched one gladiator and fatally injured another, thus proving the blade to be an instrument of true value in the emperor's eyes.