Don Winslow - Slave Girls Of Rome

“Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!” The continuing thud of the wood splattering those fleshy mounds, the sight of the wiry slave spanking the big blonde, heating her ass till she cried out and wriggled frantically, drove me wild. I fitted my hand to the sweet curvature of Iryna’s tempting little butt and squeezed, digging my fingers into the meaty mounds, kneading those swells till I had her twitching uncontrollably, whimpering with passion. I kept my eyes on the captivating scene before me as I began spanking the writhing girl in my lap, smacking her taut little butt lightly, pausing to caress the blushing mounds with the cupped palm of my hand, then spanking her some more.

Enjoying myself thoroughly, I kept alternating between these two approaches-caressing her ass and punishing her ass-teasing the lithe blonde with mixed feelings till I got a soft moan of pleasure from her inverted head. A shiver of desire rippled through her shoulders, followed by a hot little wiggle of the hips that told me this reserved, quiet girl was undoubtedly aroused, energized by the masculine hand that warmed her bottom.

Minta had paused once again. She stood with her hands on her hips, admiring the angry pink blush that had formed across the smiling undercurves of Helva’s handsome ass. Her thin smile widened into a truly evil grin as she saw her former mistress work her butt muscles, the mounds clenching as she tried desperately to harden herself to receive the next punishing slap. Her poised butt was tense, the skin taut, the sides hollowed out, and the centerline reduced to a narrowed slit, as her victim held herself fearfully, waiting. Minta also waited, letting the anticipation build. Then she struck, whacking those hardened asscheeks with a glancing slap topped off by an extra snap of the wrist.

“Thwap!”

Now she settled into a smooth easy rhythm, spanking her victim, not terribly hard but methodically, pulling her hand back only halfway, but giving a little snap to her wrist as the wooden blade bit into the cringing mounds. The blonde threw back her head and shrieked her protest.

The little slave seemed driven, delivering short, choppy strokes, alternating her attack from one side to the other, precisely smacking each rearcheek of her former mistress. As she watched the wobbly mounds dancing under her relentless blows, her eyes narrowed into gleaming slits. Her lips were drawn back, and her jaw was set as she attacked the blonde’s agitated rear end with almost maniacal fury. Muffled grunts, at first interspersed with the solid thunk of the wooden paddle splattering the fleshy mounds, quickly became continuous as they escalated into high-pitched keening cries, effectively muffled, but shrilly insistent while Helva twisted in anguish.

I was walloping Iryna’s ass hard now, spanking her vigorously as she yelped and kicked up her heels, twisting excitedly in my lap. I relished the feel of her heaving loins as she bounded up and down in my lap to the steady rhythm of my hand. As she writhed in fiery agitation, her naked haunches pressed against my upright prick, sending a deep shudder of pleasure through me. Before I realized what was happening, there was a startling surge of ecstatic delight I came, my seed spewing forth in thick creamy spurts that shot up into the air to rain down on Iryna’s delightfully bouncy ass.

I spent the next few days in leisure, testing my new slave girls in various ways, taking all three in every conceivable manner. Minta was proving to be a real find: a pure sex kitten, endlessly inventive, boldly seductive, and positively reveling in lusty decadence. There was nothing this fun-loving, spirited young vixen wouldn’t try. And her appetite was insatiable! Cool Iryna still retained much of her Teutonic reserve but she was gradually thawing out and becoming more pliant. She still showed little enthusiasm for her new role, and her passivity continued to irritate me, but at least she would obey. But Helva refused to accept her subjugation. She did nothing without being forced to, and then she performed only grudgingly. In spite of the blistering her ass had taken at the hands of the vengeful Minta, she remained unruly and obdurate. When I took her, it was like fucking a board. Her hard, silent eyes seemed to say: ‘You might have my body, but you will find no pleasure in it.’ I found her insolence a bold challenge, and I resolved to conquer this proud beauty till I had her raging with sensual lust, begging to be fucked.

Naturally, I sought Kimar’s advice. He stood regarding the two recalcitrant slaves as they knelt together before us. Minta, her hard young body dimly visible in her sheer tunic, was attending us, serving wine, and just being available. I watched her bend over to pour the wine, and studied her slender boyish butt while I waited for my guest to offer an opinion. Kimar let his shrewd, experienced gaze pass over the merchandise, for that is how he saw all slaves. Summoning them to approach on their knees, he took his time conducting a critical examination of the naked bodies of the two blonde women, evaluating them only with his eyes. He never touched them, and would not without asking my permission first, for that would hardly be polite. But as much as he might desire to run his hands over those splendid blonde bodies, there was no need. He had inspected thousands of slaves in his time, but I could tell he was impressed with these exquisite possessions of mine.

When he turned to me at last his face held a thoughtful expression. “I have a suggestion, Marcus,” he began decisively. “As you know, I have certain methods that have proven useful in training slaves. Why not turn them over to me for a while-say, three or four days, a week perhaps. No more will be needed. In no time I will have these fillies straining at the traces in a spirited chariot race where, I’ll wager, they’ll make a good show of themselves. I can promise that when I return them to you, you will not be able to find more compliant and willing sex slaves anywhere in the Empire! Once I am through with them, these women will jump to carry out your every wish, and they will obey with alacrity and unbounded enthusiasm.”

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I gave the girls to Kimar. The next day, two of his overseers showed up to take them in hand. With hands tied behind them, ankles hobbled loosely, they were led away by leashes attached to their collars, drawn along to stumble after their handlers on their way to the camp of the master slaver.

True to his word, exactly one week later, Kimar had arranged a sort of bacchanal to which I was invited, along with a handful of select guests. Wearing nothing but loincloths, we lounged about on fine silken couches, while before us tables set with silver dishes were piled high with rich and exotic foods. The hearty wine flowed freely, and it was pleasing to find that one’s slightest needs were attended to instantly by a bevy of comely slave girls, whose naked presence amongst us helped to add to the simmering sense of excitement, the growing anticipation as we eagerly awaited the appearance of the stars of the evening: my two blonde slaves, about whom the guests had heard so much and were now most keen to see.

Eventually, Kimar gave the long-awaited order. A pair of slaves threw back the flaps of the big tent to treat us to a most astonishing sight! An overseer stood in the entranceway, a massive fellow who stood with legs boldly spread, bare-chested and otherwise naked but for the leather thongs of sandals that snaked up his muscular calves and a brief kilt of animal skins slung low on his sturdy hips. Hanging loosely at his side, his left hand fingered the handle of a leather paddle, while wrapped around his right hand was a rawhide leash. At the other end of the leash was the collared throat of a stunning blonde slave girl! She knelt beside him, hands at her sides, sitting back on her haunches, her blonde head bowed in docile submission. An awed hush came over the lustful crowd.