Don Winslow: Slave Girls Of Rome

Her excited squirming had made me hard as a rock, my prick aching, demanding satisfaction. I moved my clothes up out of the way and brought my erect manhood up along the crease of her rear, pressing my loins down against those heavenly pillows, my prick snuggling happily between them as I rubbed it up and down her hot, tight valley.

Easing off, I clasped her butt and slipped my thumbs into the crease. I pried her open to get at her anus. I touched my finger to her there to find her warm and dry and incredibly tight. The little rosette stubbornly resisted my probing finger.

Suddenly angry, I slapped her on the rump, hard.

“You have a lot to learn, my beauty,” I muttered, my lips close to her ear.

Now I made some extra preparations for my next attempt to storm that tiny gate. First I called for rolled blankets to be placed under her loins. This additional padding had the effect of pulling her outstretched limbs even more tightly and elevating her lifted rear end to even greater prominence. Next, I had them bring us some oil, and this was poured in a generous stream down her rear divide while I pulled her straining asscheeks apart. I worked some oil into her cringing rear portal and rubbed a bit on my hardened cock.

Now I was ready to resume my place between her legs. Holding her open with one splayed hand, I guided my prick to its target With increasing excitement, I held her open and pressed down on her anus. She cried out at my determined assault. Suddenly furious, I stabbed at the clenched ring of muscle, struggling with the tiny gate, fiercely determined, till I felt it begin to yield. I slapped her rearcheek again and again, smacking her smartly as I kept up my unrelenting pressure. My captive howled her outrage into her gag as I slipped in and gained an inch or so. I felt the tiny ring of muscle loosen and immediately contract as I gained entrance, but I was in! Now I fell forward, letting her take the fullness of my weight, while driving my rigid cock smoothly right up her ass. She shook her blonde mane frantically, and a soft gurgling sound came out from around the gag.

I savored the sweet tightness I found there, the way her savaged asshole clenched me, the way her buoyant mounds felt pressed solidly against my hips. I let my hips rock forward, delighting in the bouncy resiliency of that wonderful ass while a strangled groan escaped from the impaled woman.

Soon I was fucking the blonde barbarian’s asshole in slow, even strokes, pulling out almost to the very tip and then lunging to bury my sword to the hilt up her rectum. Her little anus clung tightly to my shaft, sucking me in, as I drew back. Fired with lust, I speeded up, drilling her more quickly now with brisk, short strokes. Soon I was bucking furiously, crazed with lust and fucking her ass with wild abandon while my men cheered me on. I felt the teasing trickle of pleasure rising up in my loins, felt it gather power till it became a mighty surge of lust, a raging, unstoppable river that erupted into the Teuton’s undulating ass, sending jets of Roman seed deep into her bowels. The explosion of pleasure shook me as I fired my essence into her bounding ass. I felt her inner heat, her tightening on me as if her asshole were milking my throbbing cock dry. I fell back, extracting my still-pulsating prick to let the last dribbles of my sperm decorate her pretty rear end.

Well-satisfied that our new slave had been properly introduced to her subservient status, I felt that one further refinement might be added as I stared thoughtfully at her twitching ass. Calling Minta over, I had her crouch down by the head of the pinioned slave and translate my words. I told her that her Roman master would undoubtedly want to revisit that choice rear end of hers, and there was considerable room for improvement there. Therefore, I would see to it that a proper buttplug was inserted to exercise that portal and remind her that she must be much more accommodating in the future.

At my command, a squat wooden plug was fashioned, oiled, and promptly inserted in the ravaged anus of the outstretched blonde, while she whimpered plaintively from behind her gag. And that was how she spent her first night as a Roman captive. Spread-eagled and tied down, the rude buttplug lodged well up her behind, the squat end left to jut out from between her clenching asscheeks, moving each time she contracted her buttocks, the well-fucked woman could do nothing but contemplate her fate. The other captives were brought over to see her in this sorry state so that they, too, might reflect on the price of obstinacy to the will of Rome.

Chapter Nine. Taming The Blonde Barbarian

In Bernesium it is said that the people still talk of my triumphant return. It was a glorious day, with banners flying, crowds cheering, slaves marching in bondage and, trailing behind me, the fairest captive of them all, a magnificent blonde barbarian, trussed up and swinging from a pole. When we were a day out of town, I had my men prepare Helva for the last few miles. She was made to lie facedown on the ground; her arms were pulled back and her legs bent at the knees so that her wrists could be bound to her ankles, one loop of rawhide binding all four limbs together. The method of tying her up pulled her body back till it was lightly bowed. Now a long smooth wooden pole was passed under her bound wrists and ankles, and a soldier at each end hoisted it up, raising our captive so that her long body hung swaying beneath the pole, nipples pointing to the ground. In this ignominious manner, my blonde beauty was paraded through the village behind my horse, her place in the column a sign of her special status, telling the world that the commander had claimed her as his own personal sex slave.

Next came our victorious troops, smiling and waving to the crowd of townspeople. Bringing up the rear were the rest of the slaves, marching naked with hands bound before them, a sprinkling of young men and boys, and then a score or more of female slaves-blonde Nordic women whose fair features were much admired by the gaping crowd, who murmured in wonder as they passed by.

The slaves were taken to the penned-in area used by the slavers just west of town, where they would be sorted out further. They would be held there to await the arrival of Kimar, for they would be sold to him (and to no other passing slaver, in accordance with our agreement). For this exclusive consideration, I would receive a princely sum, over and above the sale price which would, of course, have to be reported to Rome. It goes without saying that a few captives might be held back, saved from the old slaver’s clutches to be reserved for my personal use. I also meant to make a gift of one or two to Gratius for his kind hospitality in the past. I had not mentioned it to him, but I knew he was hopeful of such largess once he had laid his greedy eyes on the lines of fair-haired slave girls.

Upon my triumphant return, he had been the first to rush out and greet me, welcoming me back with gushing enthusiasm, and placing his house at my disposal quite generously. In fact, he went so far as to insist that I move out of my modest quarters at the fort to take up residence in one wing of his palatial home, for I was truly a hero of Rome and he would be much honored to have me as his guest. I knew he had at least one eye on my prize captives, but I accepted graciously, sure that some sort of deal was in the making.

I selected three of my newly acquired slave girls to accompany me to my new quarters: Helva, of course; clever Minta, who had proven to be quite useful as a translator, and who, it turned out, showed surprising enthusiasm as a sprightly sex slave; and a third girl, a slender Germanic beauty named Iryna. Of the same delicate-boned and long-limbed race, Iryna was a bit younger and not quite as tall as the statuesque Helva; but there was something about her slim thighs and trim youthful body that stirred me powerfully. I noticed her cool beauty as she marched in line, head held high, pale blue eyes on some distant horizon. The small blonde face with neat, precise features. The bright golden hair that fell in smooth sheets to her shoulders. The slender limbs and lithe torso with the most appealing little breasts, two small, taut globes with slightly upturned nipples that stood up, perky and expectant. This was the trio I took with me when I left the cold, drafty fort and moved into a spacious suite of rooms overlooking the lake.