Slave Girls Of Rome

Chapter Three. Let The Games Begin

And so it was I came to find myself at a place called Bernesium, the only officer in command of the 200-man garrison stationed at a small, but well-built and comfortably solid compound. Our fort stood on a hill, guarding the only approach to the town below. To be sure, Bernesium was still a garrison town, the sort of place that inevitably grows up under Roman protection. First came the fort, and then a small colony sent from Rome, and finally the local Gauls had drifted in to cluster beneath the sheltering walls. I was surprised at how large the colony had become. There was even a handful of merchants’ and craftsmen’s stalls in the marketplace. Peace had been good to this bustling frontier town. At the far end of the town was a large lake with plentiful tasty fish. The crops were surprisingly lush here, and a brisk trade had grown up as I soon discovered, because the town was at the crossroads of three minor trade routes.

Altogether, not such a desolate place after all, I soon decided. Although that was not my impression when I first laid eyes on the place, as my horse crested the top of a gentle hill. Spring had not yet come to Gaul and the landscape was stark, the trees bare. There were little signs of life in the still, cold air, and smoke rose from some of the huts. The prospect before me seemed rather bleak, and my first view of the place caused me to I wonder if I’d made a terrible mistake.

By the time spring came that year, I had settled in nicely. Bernesium became green and rather pleasant, the air caressed with soft breezes, and the budding fruit trees promising an early, warm summer. My men were a rough and rather dull lot-hardly the Praetorian Guard, but on the whole no better or no worse than any other company of common soldiers. Fortunately, my sergeant was a competent enough fellow who pretty much ran things, leaving me with considerable leisure time. Somehow, Sergeant Metellus managed to take care of things, seeing to the daily affairs of the company, assuring that the men were reasonably satisfied, fed adequately, and paid on time. Bernesium is a small town, and small towns abound in rumors. I soon heard the rumors concerning the good sergeant: that he had a lucrative side-business, offering extra protection to the local tradesmen, whose caravans were constantly coming and going through the wild countryside. I never troubled myself about these matters. After all, we had quickly come to a sort of understanding, one that seemed to work for both of us.

And so, with time on my hands, I set out to explore the pleasures of Bernesium, and these-for an officer of the legion, at least-were to be found in only one place: the house of Gratius. It goes without saying that wherever there are soldiers there will be women and wine; some enterprising entrepreneur will always see to that As you might expect, there were several taverns in our town clustered around the fort, and even a surprisingly large inn; but the pleasures of the flesh were provided almost exclusively by one man: Asinus Gratius.

Gratius was a former politician. Sensing a shift in the political winds, he had departed from Rome hastily and stealthily under rather questionable circumstances. He managed to take with him a considerable fortune, which he used to ease the discomforts of his self-imposed exile by opening a high-class house of pleasure at his villa by the lake at Bernesium. Business flourished and the old rogue prospered. I found that Gratius also held the contract with the army to run the women’s house next to the barracks. Supplying whores to the army was a lucrative business, and apparently my predecessor had allowed him to set the terms for a generous contract Along with the written agreement, Sergeant Metellus assured me with a sly wink, was an understanding whereby a bit extra might come the way of the garrison commander, “for services rendered”-another arrangement that seemed eminently sensible.

Naturally, the common whores who service the troops are seldom visited by the officers, even in remote outposts like ours. Instead, I was invited to avail myself of the tasty treats placed at my disposal at the luxurious villa of the wealthy procurer.

A word about Gratius’s pride and joy seems in order.

He chose to build his pleasure palace on the picturesque lake, re-creating a splendid Roman villa in this remote province. Except for the fort, it was the largest compound in Bernesium. A sprawling low building with extended wings enclosed beautifully manicured grounds surrounding lively fountains and flowing water gardens. A wide spacious porch, set with tall columns in typical Roman style, welcomed the visitor. Inside, the house was furnished exquisitely with treasures spirited away on the hasty flight from Rome, along with expensive tapestries and Oriental rugs that had found their way along the trade routes to our little outpost. In addition to his private rooms, one wing held the women’s quarters, where Gratius kept some of finest sex slaves in the province-beautiful, talented young women who were exceptionally well trained.

Gratius’s girls were made available to local merchants, visiting traders, and notables like the provincial governor, as well as a few of the town’s more important personages, among whom I, as garrison commander, was afforded a very special place. Indeed Gratius saw to it that when visiting his house, I would be entertained like a king, although only my initial visit was free. I remember that visit fondly, the first time I walked along the shady tree-lined paths that meandered down to that idyllic garden of heavenly delights.

I was met at the door by a pretty little slave girl whose big brown eyes smiled up at me from under her bangs. I couldn’t help smiling back as my eyes took in her slight girlish shape, the gentle slope of her narrow shoulders and, through a translucent bodice of ivory silk, the shallow curves of her little breasts-a pair of tautly rounded globes, tipped with surprisingly pert nipples. Brashly uptilted, the little nubbins poked back impertinently against the thin fabric, simply begging to be touched.

As befits a proper sex slave, the young woman who greeted me was clad in nothing but a thin Grecian tunic. Made of white diaphanous silk, this short sleeveless garment bared her supple limbs, exposing a generous expanse of smooth girlish chest. The thin bodice covered-but did not hide-her maidenly breasts, before it fell in soft folds, to be gathered at the waist by a thin belt, thus forming a brief skirt-one that barely covered her hips and the top of her youthful thighs. Sandals and a high leather collar (that ubiquitous symbol of her servitude) completed her scanty outfit. The inspiring sight of the slave girl’s nubile body as she stood in the doorway, her dusky triangle dimly visible, brought on a familiar surge of lust and an immediate responsive stirring from under my own tunic.

As I stood there gaping at her, this vision of loveliness lowered her eyes, tilted her head respectfully, and asked me politely to follow her. Then she turned on her heel and led the way down the hall, her small, trim behind swaying most delightfully. The little skirt was barely adequate to cover the girl’s nicely rounded bottom. As she walked, the hemline rode rhythmically, threatening to expose more than the undercurves of her cute ass, a hint of which peeked out from below the shifting hem with each step. Would I follow her?! Without a doubt, I would have followed that delectable little morsel to the very gates of Hades itself!

My charming escort led me through the main hall to where my host awaited my arrival in the large circular atrium with its high domed ceiling that formed the center of the house. Gratius was a big, fun-loving bear of a fellow with a roaring laugh and a lusty appetite. He thoroughly enjoyed playing the role of the province’s wealthiest citizen. A lifelong bachelor, he was like a jovial uncle to his bevy of slave girls, one or two of whom seemed always to be draped about his person.

I came upon him seated like an enthroned monarch on a low-backed camp chair, wearing nothing but a towel draped over his loins, thighs spread wide, and sandaled feet planted firmly on the tiled floor. Behind him, a comely lass stood with both hands on his big shoulders, kneading his soft naked flesh slowly, while on the rug at his feet a second slave girl sat with knees drawn up, her head resting against her master’s hairy thigh. One of his hands had dropped down along the side of the chair and his thick fingers were idly playing in the silken mass of the lissome girl’s rich auburn hair. He greeted me with a friendly wave and beckoned me over to recline on a nearby sofa. Magically, a slave girl appeared at my elbow, instantly ready with a generous cup and a flagon of fine Latium wine.

“So, Marcus,” he began expansively, “how do you find our little corner of the empire? Dull, no doubt, after the fun of Rome?”

As the slave girl bent over to pour the wine, she offered me a splendid view of her taut, conical breasts, hanging within the billowing neckline of her tunic. I tried to respond to my magnanimous host as best as I could. Although somewhat distracted, I heard myself assuring him that the present company, at least, was the equal of any to be found in Rome. He beamed in appreciation of the compliment It was true, he admitted with a thoughtful nod, that in some ways we had been able to retain “a bit of old Rome” here in the hinterlands. He paused, and then brightened up. For example, there were the games!

“When was the last time you saw a couple of famous gladiators going at it?” He grinned with amusement.

I’ll admit I was a bit bewildered, but I couldn’t help smiling at his obvious enthusiasm. It had been a while, I allowed, remembering those disastrous games where I had lost a more than a few denarii betting on the blue team. But there were no games in Bernesium. Surely, my host didn’t maintain a stable of gladiators! Now I discovered he had a different contest in mind. For, after a teasing pause, he enlightened me, grinning broadly. He had arranged to have a special entertainment staged in my honor. As a man who appreciated the ladies, he leered, he felt sure I would enjoy his very special “gladiators.”

Now the master of the house clapped his hands and shouted triumphantly:

“Let the games begin!”

Intrigued, I watched as two hooded figures appeared from between the circle of columns surrounding the room. They were barefoot, their bodies shrouded in long wine-red cloaks with cowls that turned up to cover their heads. The mysterious figures came to a stop just in front of their seated master. They stood side by side, awaiting his orders.

At an imperious gesture from him, they threw back their cowls dramatically. I found myself staring at two slave girls, young women whose heads were all but shorn, their hair clipped to a short stubble, as was sometimes done to slaves in Rome. They stood at attention, their eyes fixed somewhere over our heads. Gratius nodded when their hands went immediately to unclasp the collars of their cloaks. The two garments slithered down to the floor, revealing two naked female bodies, young and taut-muscled, glistening with a fine sheen of oil. As I watched awestruck, they bowed low, saluting their master.

Gratius said not a word, but kept them standing there, knowing that I would want to be able to compare these female wrestlers who would be entertaining us. As Gratius appreciated, one likes to size up the contestants. We sat in silence for a moment, evaluating the healthy young females who stood motionless before us.

Then Gratius leaned over to me.

“The girl on the left is Leia.” He called my attention to the rather stocky curvaceous girl. Her features, like her body, had a softly rounded girlish quality. I could only guess from the light brown stubble that had been left to her what she might have looked like with a full head of hair. I next studied her hefty tits. Generous though not excessive, they drooped slightly to swell into two sloping pendants crested with wide, thick nipples. Not only was the hair on their heads shorn, no doubt useful for wrestlers, but for some more obscure reason, the girls’ pubic hair had also been shaved clean. Totally bereft of its natural fuzz, Leia’s plump little pubis was pale and shaved clean, so that it stood out boldly from between the full curves of her powerful thighs.

“And this,” my host continued expansively, “is Uta.” He pointed to the other girl. A bit taller than her more muscular rival, Uta had a lean, tightly knit body, slim-hipped and more angular than curved. Her breasts were narrow and pointy, capped with small dusky nipples. Her features were crisp and neat. With her nearly bald head, she had a clean-cut look enhanced by her trim lines and her denuded sex, a narrow triangle of shiny white flesh tucked between her sinewy legs. Though she would have been outweighed by her more substantial sister, she had the hard, wiry build of an athlete. She would be a very tough opponent, I surmised.

“Well, what do you think?” Gratius asked at last, breaking my reverie. A note of eagerness crept into his voice.

“About evenly matched, I should say.”

He agreed. Both were strong, determined young women. It was his idea to take advantage of their intense rivalry by pairing them off. The winner would be allowed to complete her triumph over her adversary in a very unique way, he assured me with a mysterious wink.

“But come, you must be a betting man,” he hinted.

“I would give the edge to Leia.” I took the safer bet.

He smiled. “A modest wager, perhaps?”

I had the sinking feeling that I was being taken, but there seemed no gentlemanly way out. I accepted his hand and the bet was made.

With a flourish of his hand, Gratius dismissed the wrestlers, who bowed in acknowledgment, and turned to go to take their places on the field of combat The room we sat in had three wide tiers, with a sunken circular pit in the middle of the room. Gratius and I were seated on the topmost level. Now the girls turned their backs to us, and I watched the rare view they presented as they descended the three levels to the sunken arena. Leia had the more generous ass, plump and voluptuous, while Uta sported a pair of narrow hard-muscled buttocks. A set of pillows had been placed in the center circle. Stuffed with down and covered with hard, smooth linen, they made the ideal surface for a slippery wrestling match, my host assured me proudly.

Now the two naked women separated and stood across the arena from each other, eyeing each other intently, poised and alert, like gladiators sizing up their opponent for the point of weakness. At a word from their master, they crouched and began circling each other warily.

I watched my favorite with interest Leia’s feet were planted firmly. The sturdy girl moved slowly, with extreme caution, always sideways, her eyes locked on her opponent, searching for the right opening. Her full breasts fell forward and hung temptingly as she widened her stance and crouched, her hands extended, the gleaming muscles of her arms and shoulders moving liquidly as she circled her opponent grimly. Meanwhile, Uta was also moving slowly, her lean body poised like a cobra about to strike. Her slight breasts swung from side to side when she crouched and began to move with slow menace. My eyes studied her face: the narrowed eyes and the determined set of her tightly drawn lips. The girl was ready to spring! Her tense body coiled tightly, sleek calves straining, as she rose up tiptoe, one hand beckoning, taunting her rival.

But Leia would not be drawn to make the first move, and the two continued to circle till I wondered if they would ever close.

Suddenly it happened! With a savage shout, Uta bounded forward, her head lowered, aimed right at her opponent’s belly. Leia reacted just in time to deflect the shorn head, although she took a glancing body blow that propelled her backward, so that she staggered and almost lost her balance. But she recovered in a flash and instantly the two women were locked together in a death grip, arms grabbing each other’s slippery body, grappling and twisting, straining desperately to keep their balance.

Leia managed to get a leg between Uta’s and pressed forward. She used her strength to slowly bend the slender girl back under her superior weight But somehow Uta managed to slip away with a quick slashing move that brought her slithering out of the bearlike grasp. Both girls were finding that getting a purchase on a writhing oil-slicked body was obviously very difficult. Now the action became hot and heavy as the two combatants closed again, twisting in a brief but furious blur of limbs. Once again, the embrace could not be sustained and the two obviously excited wrestlers, sweating and panting from their exertions, fell apart once more, to begin once again their slow, cautious circling.

I shot a quick glance at my host to find him leaning forward, his eyes keen with excitement. His gaze was riveted on the sweaty scene, fascinated by the slow, deadly dance. My own excitement was rising at the sight of these naked girls squirming hotly in the heat of combat, and now my need was making itself felt by pressing against the front of my tunic with alarming urgency.

A warrior’s yell drew my attention back to the struggling combatants. Uta had somehow managed to get herself behind her opponent and had her arms wrapped around her from the back As Leia struggled to shake her off, Uta fumbled for a better grip, groping wildly till her clutching fingers closed on a handful of her opponent’s tit. Her fingers tightened, clenching the slick mound of flesh in a fist. Leia cried out in pain and shook even more furiously to dislodge her attacker. Leia managed to bend forward and reach between her legs to grab Uta’s outthrust leg, pulling it to topple her foe, who fell with a resounding thud.

In a flash, Leia pounced on her, pressing the squirming girl down to the pillows. For a moment, the two oily bodies wriggled together, oily breasts grinding against oily breasts, legs intertwined. Suddenly, Uta managed to squirm out from under the pinning weight of the heavier girl, but she didn’t press her advantage. She seemed to pause. She appeared to be a little dazed. Perhaps she had the wind knocked out of her, for now she only managed to draw herself up on hands and knees. Before she knew what hit her, Leia fell on her. Draping herself over Uta’s crouched form, she slithered up the oily back and grabbed the skinny girl’s jiggling tits and paid her in kind for the savage mauling she had received at Uta’s hands. Uta threw back her head and clenched her jaws against the pain as Leia squeezed the soft slippery breasts till they bulged angrily between her clenched fingers.

The rough treatment seemed to enrage Uta. Her desire for revenge must have given her superhuman strength, for she suddenly slipped out from under the draping form of the heavier girl. Leia spilled down onto the pillows, falling flat on her belly. Moving with frantic speed, the wiry girl flipped her opponent over and sat on her, straddling her hips, planting her bare bottom firmly on Leia’s twisting loins. While Leia bucked desperately, Uta took aim and swatted the heaving mounds of Leia’s tits, giving Uta’s breasts three or four vicious slaps. Leia was screaming and tossing her head from side to side as Uta slapped her repeatedly. Then Uta fell forward, covering Leia’s nude form with her own well-oiled body and pinning her dazed opponent to the mat. She threw back her head and shouted out a triumphant count of three.

She had won a clear and convincing victory.

Chapter Four. A Reconciliation, Of Sorts

The two combatants untangled themselves slowly and struggled to their feet. They stood facing their master, panting heavily, their chests heaving. They collected themselves for a moment, bowed low, and then stood at attention, awaiting their master’s pleasure, recovering their breath slowly. Flushed and sweating profusely, rivulets of perspiration mingled with the oil in the glistening sheen that coated their exhausted bodies. Leia’s quivering bosom still bore the angry red imprints where she had been slapped, but all traces of anger seemed to have dissipated from both girls now that the contest was over.

“Ah, yes, to the victor go the spoils!” Gratius cried, winking at me. “Come here, Uta, and accept your prize. But no, wait!” His gesture was that of a man who suddenly remembered something. “We forgot! First, you must kiss and make up. Let us see that there are no hard feelings.”

The slave girls turned to one another obediently, and opened their arms to take each other’s gleaming bodies in an embrace. Uta kissed Leia on the open mouth, delivering not exactly a sisterly kiss; but they both knew what their randy master wanted of them. For a moment, the two stood locked in a deep kiss, swaying slightly as their arms tightened and their warm bodies were drawn together. When the kiss broke, the two sweating girls still held each other and glanced up at their aroused master.

“Uta, I think perhaps you’ve hurt your friend, the nasty way you treated her lovely breasts. Say you’re sorry now, and give them a kiss to make them feel better,” my host urged with a devilish gleam in his eye. The thin girl mumbled an apology and ducked her head to bring her lips to the bruised tits. The kisses she bestowed were dry and perfunctory-a quick brush on each throbbing mound.

“No, better than that!” Gratius demanded. Again Uta lowered her head and nuzzled Leia’s nipples, while her companion stood with arms at her side, letting her head fall back, arching up her chest to accept the soothing relief offered to her ample feminine charms. Now Uta was kissing all over those tautly rounded curves, dragging her tongue after her lips, licking the oily tits lavishly, while Leia sighed and closed her eyes against the waves of pleasure.

“The nipples-suck on her nipples!” Gratius order in a voice that was choked with passion.

Leia arched back even farther, raising up those choice tips for the loving attentions of her rival, while Uta nosed into a soft mound of flesh and drew a big pink nipple between her teeth. She brought a hand up to cup the bulging tit, holding it as she worked the nipple gently between her lips, drawing on the pliant tip, sucking softly, making Leia squirm in sensual delight. When both nipples had been given considerable attention, Gratius intervened again. This time, when they broke apart, Uta kept one arm slung loosely over Leia’s shoulder, while Leia slipped an arm around her rival’s waist Gratius smiled to see the subtle signs of sisterly affection. He couldn’t help observing that Uta’s efforts must have made them better, for Leia’s nipples had grown under all this tender attention. Indeed, we could see that her aureoles had expanded; the tips were stiff with excitement.

“Well, Leia, it seems you enjoyed that. You must thank Uta for being so generous as to soothe your hurting tits. For remember, it is she, after all, who had defeated you. Surely, you must be the one to pay your tribute to your conqueror.” The lusty rogue was clearly enjoying himself now. “Come, now, it is time you paid your proper obeisance. On your knees!”

Leia slipped free from the loose embrace and fell to her knees before her rival. For a moment, Uta looked down at her, unsure as to what she was supposed to do.

Her master’s next words made his wishes abundantly clear.

“Turn around, Uta. Spread your legs and lean over.”

The bent-over pose with her hands supporting herself braced on her knees had the effect of protruding her rear end so that it stood poised just in front of the eyes of the kneeling woman.

“Go on, Leia!” Gratius ordered with an impatient hiss. “Kiss her ass!… Nicely, and generously, now,” he warned. “Show your victorious mistress that you’re equally gracious in defeat as she was in winning.”

Leia followed his orders, leaning forward to bring her lips to the proffered ass of her rival. There she planted a long lingering kiss; and, at the words of delight and encouragement from her master, she began to kiss and lick that jutting bottom, while Uta arched her back and wriggled her shoulders in agitated delight.

Fascinated, we watched as Leia’s gleaming head, with its faint stubble, moved closer to the hard shiny swells so the girl could slavishly lick the hard, taut curves of Uta’s jutting asscheeks. I felt a powerful surge of desire well up in me as a knot of lust formed in my belly. My responsive manhood rose to the occasion, twitching with swelling excitement.

Once she had that narrow butt covered with trails of saliva, the randy whoremaster instructed the kneeling girl to clasp Uta’s hips and thrust her tongue deep into the narrow crevice. The probing tongue sent Uta jerking upright; a quiver of pleasure shot through her shoulders and rippled down her back as the seeking tongue slithered in to explore the hidden valley. Still not content, my insatiable host ordered the girl to open up the clamping asscheeks and expose Uta’s tiny anus to our eyes. She was to suffer the ultimate humiliation of being forced to bring her lips to her rival’s asshole. And this, too, she did humbly-not with the distaste one might expect to see, but with increasing enthusiasm, for by now both women were squirming in heat, their arousal evident.

Uta had her eyes clenched tight. Her shorn head was bobbing back Her hands tightened on her knees as she clung to hold on against the onrush of pleasure being generated by that loving tongue. Leia dug her thumbs into the deep division and pried the mounds apart, licking assiduously, diving in between the splayed cheeks with enthusiasm, so she soon had her rival moaning and writhing helplessly.

Suddenly the old satyr, with his perverse sense of timing, abruptly ordered a stop to the action.

Leia fell back and sat on her heels, shoulders slumped, her head hung low, her breathing ragged. Uta was summoned to take her place before her lord and master. As she mounted the stairs, the serving girl came to her master’s side holding the prize that had been designated for the victor. I was amused to see that what she held was a well-formed phallus, long and narrow and made of smooth ivory. The slave girl was oiling the shaft, running her curved fingers up and down its length to apply a generous coating of oil. I also noticed that the rod appeared to be set into a sort of harness, from which a set of straps dangled down.

At a nod from the seated monarch, the serving girl proceeded to equip the victor with her award. She helped Uta step into the leather loops and drew the contraption up her legs, where it was buckled snugly into place around the girl’s thin waist Leg straps were tightened around the curves of her butt while a strap that hung down in front was passed between her legs and attached to the belt in back Finally, the straps were pulled tight, cinched into place, leaving the girl with the weird phallus jutting out from her Venus-mound in a perverse parody of masculine equipment.

Gratius looked very pleased. He beckoned the girl to him so he might personally inspect the tightness of the fit. He ran his fingers along the straps that cinched her waist and the snug leg straps that curved under her tight butt He pulled up on the center strap, tugging the thin leather strip even deeper between the girl’s labia. Turning her around, he gave her a friendly smack on the bottom that sent her back down to the sunken ring. I watched the protruding rod bobbing obscenely as she descended the wide stairs to where her kneeling rival waited for her.

Uta knew what to do. I got the distinct feeling that this was not the first time that these slave girls had been made to put on such a show before their lecherous lord. Stepping up to the kneeling girl, she reached down and paused to fondle Leia’s right breast. Leia looked up at her. When their eyes met, Uta placed a hand flatly at the top of the girl’s chest and pushed steadily, shoving her backward so that Leia fell onto her back, propped up on her elbows, legs sprawled out on the pillows.

Uta knelt down beside her, the phallus bobbing and swaying as she did so. She lowered herself gradually so the two slave girls lay snuggled together side by side. I expected to see a swift businesslike penetration and perhaps some perfunctory and disinterested fucking, but these girls had been well trained and they knew their master’s preference for slow and loving foreplay. And so they embraced and kissed, warmly and tenderly, holding each other and moving together as lovers often do. Their oily bodies were intertwined, the kisses getting longer, deeper, as they squirmed hotly on the pillows. Heated hands moved up and down each other’s bodies, exploring the slippery curves with increased urgency.

I glanced at my host quickly to see that he had summoned the girl who sat at his feet. She must have known her master’s unspoken wish, for this lissome girl proceeded docilely to lay herself down across his lap, draping her slim, supple body over his widespread thighs so that her head hung down at one end, and her legs angled down to the floor at the other. The pose served to present her randy master with her upturned bottom. His hand brushed up the little skirt of her tunic to uncover a splendid feminine behind: a superb bottom ready to be admired, stroked, and fondled as he watched the sweaty, girl-girl action unfolding before him. For a moment, he paused to consider that shapely little butt. Then his hand moved, cupping the tautly rounded skin at the back of a thigh and following that smooth column till it slid up to capture a pert little rearcheek There it lingered, squeezing lightly and enjoying the feel of that pleasing curve.

My own need was becoming explosive. I rushed to follow my host’s example. Pulling the little serving girl to me, I brushed back my tunic, and placed her oily hand squarely on my swollen penis.

Now the two lovers were writhing in the full bloom of raging passion. Uta was massaging Leia’s substantial tits, while Leia had managed to get a hand between them, and currently had a finger inserted up Uta’s bald vagina. I watched them moving slickly over one another, till Uta had gained the dominant position, her body placed along the length of her lover’s.

Uta reached down to throw open Leia’s legs. Leia became strangely passive, letting her slack limbs be rearranged, looking up at her dominating lover with lips parted and expectant. Uta passed a hand between those loose legs and fondled her rival’s denuded sex, making the poor girl whimper in her desperate need. Then, getting up to kneel between the splayed legs, she reached down to hold the phallic rod and guide it to the gaping lips of her defeated lover.

Enraptured by the fiery lesbian action, I couldn’t take my eyes off the hot performance. But the exciting feel of those little slick hands sliding all over my masculine equipment made me shut my eyes as I savored the delicious moment. When I managed to swallow the sudden upsurge of pleasure and open my eyes again, I saw that the rod had been inserted between Leia’s slick lips. Uta drove in, falling forward, plunging the carved phallus right into the churning depths of her lover’s sex. She started to move immediately, her hips bucking in smooth, even rhythm that had the shaft pistoning in and out of the hot, clinging cunt. Leia groaned and tossed her head from side to side, being driven mad with pleasure as Uta fucked her with the ivory shaft.

I tried to ignore the hand on my prick, but the exquisite feel of those little oily fingers wriggling their way over my erect masculinity sent me soaring to ecstatic heights. I had to fall back weakly on the couch. With a surge of effort, I worked to repress the urge to come, struggling against the rising tickle of excruciating pleasure, vowing to hold on a bit longer.

Through half-lidded eyes, I saw that the expression on Uta’s face matched my own grim determination as she drove in ruthlessly, savagely violating her fellow slave with an intensity that surprised me. Leia was moaning openly now, thrashing about on the pillow, her hips undulating in time to the heavy pounding she was being given. I watched Leia’s widespread legs rise slowly, her body responding instinctively to invite even deeper penetration, till her feet were fluttering high in the air and her thighs were grappling Uta’s thrusting loins.

Uta bucked furiously, deriving whatever pleasure she could from seeing her lover helpless and moaning below her, fucking her conquest till the girl screamed out in ecstasy and came with a mighty shudder. When she dismounted, leaving her defeated rival in a depleted heap, the insatiable phallus was still sticking straight out from her loins, bouncing eagerly as if looking for new conquests.

At that moment, the little minx who held my manhood loosely in her curled fingers chose to close her fist and yank viciously on me. The sudden stab of pleasure brought my hips high up off the couch. I twisted there in the wind, caught in the tight grip of that little hand. Again and again she jerked mercilessly. I came in an explosion of intense pleasure.

You would have thought that Leia’s climax might have ended the performance, but the voracious sexual enthusiast who ruled the manor had not yet reached his own satisfaction. He had one further surprise in store.

He was happily spanking the little ass of the slave girl who writhed in his lap, shouting his encouragement to Uta all the while, when Leia came with a mighty thud. He paused in his efforts to warm the girlish ass. He was pleased, but not quite yet ready to dismiss his prized “gladiators.” He had one final demand to place on them. A thoughtful expression came over his face as his hand slowly rubbed the heated rearcheeks of the girl who squirmed on his lap. Turnabout was fair play, he pontificated.

Uta had to unbuckle the contraption and hand it over to her rival so that it might be secured around Leia’s robust loins. The vanquished would be encouraged to take her revenge on her conqueror. The next command showed how fiendish that old satyr really was: the phallus was to be used as a back-door weapon. She would be ordered to savage the other girl’s skinny ass, an order she carried out with considerable relish.