Don Winslow: Slave Girls Of Rome

She came this time with a plaintive cry, cut short by a mighty shudder which racked her thin frame. A single intense thrill of pure pleasure shot through me as, with a final powerful lunge, I fired my load into her throbbing depths, flooding her innards with pulsating jets of creamy sperm, till I tumbled down the other side of my climax.

My knees weakened and I collapsed against Helva’s hanging body, draping myself over her, savoring the feel of her sweating oily flesh as I lay with my chest pressed against her warm slippery breasts. Thoroughly depleted, I lay there, plastered to her hot slick body, closing my eyes to let the blissful peace of a warm afterglow flood through me.

The shrewd slaver immediately saw the wave of excitement the introduction of these rare blonde slaves would cause in decadent Rome. In no time, Teutons would be all the rage, and the elite of society simply have to own one, or even a half dozen to grace their elegant homes. Kimar knew that the Nordic women would be especially prized and that he could demand-and get-outrageous prices for them. He looked at me very earnestly when he said, in a voice of solemn promise: “We need more of them. If you can supply me, I can make you a rich man.”

As it turned out, there were continued eruptions among the Northern tribes, as though in answer to Kimar’s prayers. Over the next few months, the gods were with us, and our frequent campaigning yielded several groups of these magnificent barbarian prisoners. Kimar was as good as his promise, so that when I was finally called back to Rome, it would be as a very wealthy man indeed.

And so I was to enter the imperial city at the head of my bevy of fair-haired slaves, rich, successful, and influential beyond my wildest dreams, to find myself embraced eagerly by the cream of Roman society. I was even summoned to the palace of the Emperor himself, extended a prized invitation to an orgy there. I planned to bring Helva, the wild barbarian of the North, who I knew would create quite a stir when she appeared at that decadent court.

Among the nobly outfitted courtiers and their elegantly dressed ladies, she would stand out, stark naked, wearing nothing but the collar of a slave of Rome-and she would wear it proudly! She would be paraded before them, unable to avoid the lusty hunger in their eyes as they appraised her splendid nude body; and with some of her fellow slaves, she might be made to perform at the whim of the Emperor and that lecherous court. Only then would she would fully realize her abject servitude, the extent of the humiliation she must endure. She would truly understand only when she was forced to enter the grand hall on her hands and knees, crawling like an animal, to make her humble obeisance, then lowering her head to touch the marble floor before the mighty Emperor of Rome.