Passion desire Lust

Chapter 64



Story 13 The Water girl

The rooms were full of people but they didn’t notice me as I floated in and out carrying water. Oil lamps and incense burned and the air was thick with their fragrances and also of something else. Thin fabrics were hung from the ceilings and behind them men and women fornicated. I could see the shadows move as I walked and the odor of sweaty men and women and their bodily fluid stung my nose.

No one was interested in what I carried but for the wine the other girls brought. I was used to being ignored, hardly noticed by the other slaves, just a young girl doing her job as quietly as possible so not to bring attention from my domina. She could be quick with her hand, a slap to the face, a pinch of the nipple until tears ran if you made a mistake, so we didn’t. The only thing that brought attention to me was the way I looked.

“You, what are you carrying?”

I stopped and turned around. An older man dressed in a white toga looked at me.

“Water, sir.”

He snapped his fingers. “Away with you, send someone with wine.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hurried off and found Laixa in the next room. She had wine and I begged for her to come with me.

“The old fuck, he wants wine,” I whispered as we walked.

I stopped in the doorway and watched as Laixa served the old man. When she was about to leave he grabbed her boob and gave it a hard squeeze. Turning to his friend he said, “Albia has such good taste in slave girls. Just feel how firm this one is.”

The other man gave the older his wine cup and using both hands touched Laixa. I could see her eyes and the pain she felt, it wasn’t physical but emotional. She was a beautiful girl from Syria and had been in the villa longer than I. Laixa was not shy; she loved a good cock both in pussy and ass. Sometimes at night, I could hear her fornicating with another slave. I thought she had eyes for me too. Many a night I had laid awake waiting for her to come to me, but so far nothing had happened. Her reaction to the two men was pure hatred, she didn’t mind sex but she wanted to choose her partner.

When she came back to where I was waiting she breathed out and wiped a tear from her eyes.

“Fucking bastard.”

“It’s okay, let’s go to the kitchen, I need to freshen my water.”

As we walked through the rooms I looked at the walls which had erotic art painted on them with scenes of men fucking women, women having sex with other women, and men with men. The colors and details made them come alive in the flicker from the oil lamps.

When we crossed the garden to where the kitchen was, eyes followed us, slaves, as well as noblemen. We were a sight, Laixa with raven black hair, dark nipples clearly visible under the thin dress she was wearing, I with long blond curls falling down my back and young pert tits pressing against the red fabric of my tunic.

*****

I was but a child when the Roman soldiers came. I have a vague memory of sitting outside our humble home cleaning mushrooms with my mother. It was autumn, and the trees’ leave’s had turned into red, yellow, and orange.

At first, it was a rumble far away, my mother looked up thinking it was thunder but the sky was blue. My father came from the back of the house where he had been cleaving wood for the fire.

“Get in the house, those are horses,” he said and ushered us inside.

My mother and I hid behind the one bed we shared and as the soldiers arrived my mother began to pray to the gods for our safety. Suddenly there was a scream that made my blood turn into ice, it was my father’s voice. Next, the door burst in and two soldiers entered. They quickly found us and as I watched my mother’s head being cut in half by a sword. I couldn’t scream, I sat still like if I was not there.

Rough hands grabbed me and pulled me up. The next thing I knew I was slung over a horse and the ground was speeding by under me, being wetted by my tears.

We rode for two days and when we finally stopped I was weak from lack of food and drink. The soldiers had only given me a little, just enough to keep me alive. I was taken to a large cage where other women sat, stood, or lay on the ground. It stank of piss and feces. Some of the women on the ground didn’t move, and I realized they were dead. Others wouldn’t stop wailing and crying even though the soldiers hit them with long sticks they shoved between the bars.

I huddle at the back, making myself as small as possible, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Next to our cage were several others. Some held women, others men. At night I could hardly sleep from their cries. Prayers in other languages reached my ears. At least I thought they were prayers because the people repeated them again and again, all night.

On the third day, I was taken out of the cage and roughly brought up on a wooden podium with a few other young women. I was the smallest but the people in front of us were drawn to me.

A man began to speak, and some of the men and women in front of us raised their hands. A woman in her late twenties standing with a man a few years older said something to him. He raised his hand and spoke. A mumbled and gasps went through the crowd.

A guard grabbed my hand and pulled me down. He then led me over to the woman and man who smiled.

She said something that I didn’t understand. The man had a metal ring that he put around my neck and shut close. Then he knotted a rope to it and lead the way to a wagon drawn by two beautiful white horses. I followed like a dog on its leash.

When we arrived at the villa after a few days’ travel I was ushered into the slave quarters where an older woman bathed and dressed me. She tried to speak to me but I didn’t understand. I spoke back and she called out a name. A few seconds later a boy a few years older than I with the same blond hair came up to us.

“What is your name?” he said.

“Itta.”

He said something to the woman who shook her head and mumbled something. The boy turned back to me. “Your name is now Adelina. Your domina and dominus are Albia and Attilus. You will be the water girl.”

“Where am I?” I sobbed.

“Stop the crying and do what you are told. You are now in the Roman Empire, far away from your home so forget about it, forget your family, and forget everything you have known. Your new life starts today.”

*****

Ten years later I was still the water girl of the house. The blond boy’s name was Paulus and he has been coming to my bed for the last two months taking his cock to my pussy. He wanted to do my ass too, but I was not ready. Sometimes dominus takes him to bed so domina can watch them. Paulus told me she loves seeing him taking dominus big cock in his mouth and giggles like a possessed woman when his seed flows over onto Paulus’ chin.

“There you are my flower,” said Paulus when Laixa and I walked in.

The kitchen smelt of roasted meat, fish, spices and herbs. The slaves were carrying trays in and out and the wine girls refilled their pitches from larger amphoras.

Paulus walked up to us and tried to kiss me but I pulled away whispering, “not here, you horny boy. The cooks and the others will see us.”

“All he wants is to fuck you,” said Laixa.

“You are jealous, you want my cock in you as well,” he answered her.

“Ha! I do not take pleasure in young men. I like big fat cocks in my holes who know how to give me pleasure.”

She giggled and left us to fill her pitchers.

Paulus walked with me to the well where he helped me fill my pitchers with fresh cold water.

“How is the party?” he asked.

“The same as always, the nobles fucking and sucking, Domina and Dominus having their fill as well. Do you think he will call for you tonight?”

“Probably not, his balls will be empty of seed.”

I was on my way to leave when he said, “What about you? Has Domina laid her eyes on you the way she does when she wants pleasure?”

“No, not yet. Maybe I am not to her liking.”This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

He cupped my breasts and stole a kiss. “What is there not to like, ass like a ripe peach, and a pussy like a warm fig?”

I laughed and pushed him away. “Your words only get you so far.”

I met up with Laixa at the door and we went back to the party, where we would serve the rich and noble until late into the night.


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