The hours that had transpired between capture and being taken to the estate of the Roman legate were some of the longest of Laurentinius Hortler's life. Immobilized by the net, which was too strong to rip through, Larry had little to do but think... and worry. He knew enough about history to know a slave's life was difficult, lots of toil, often outdoors. Surely, the Roman sun would tan his ethereally pale porcelain skin, and rough labor would callous his smooth, elegant hands.
But that was not to be his role. He was to serve a different purpose in the legate's household. And now he had something else to worry about. The Babel fish flopped around sloppily in his skull, making him cringe. That meant he was about to get a command -
"SLAVE! COME HITHER!"
Larry grumbled and left his small, closet-size quarters, walking down the great hall to where she was waiting in her boudoir.
Cocina Salo was the wife of the legate. The legate preferred men, which was not unusual in ancient Rome, but everyone was expected to marry and produce heirs regardless. So the legate let his wife satiate herself by dominating slaves. Larry was the latest one; from what he'd heard from household gossip, his predecessors tended to not live long, for failing to satisfy Cocina.
While it was certainly preferable to tanning his moonlit complexion in the fields, Larry still didn't care for the getup Cocina insisted upon - a toga folded and knotted around the lower half of his body to resemble a diaper. Though Cocina didn't have the same appetite for ageplay that Juniper had, at least. And with her bronze hair, Larry could easily imagine that he was being fucked by the cinnabar-haired beauty, Cole...
The Babel fish flopped around again, to translate the command into a language Larry could understand. "Slave! Presentest thine bussieth!"
Larry groaned, untied the toga, and bent over, presenting the globes of his milk-white ass, like two scoops of mashed potatoes waiting for jizz gravy. Cocina was wearing a crude wooden phallus on a leather harness around her waist, and a rather large one, making him grunt with pain as Cocina entered him and began to thrust. Larry closed his eyes and made himself think it was Cole fucking him, that they were in Vegas, celebrating the casino winnings that multiplied Larry's money from the ancient Roman coins or pottery he would be bringing back to 2022. He was a god, after all, he could manipulate the blackjack table to make himself win. Champagne and caviar. Jacuzzis. A new Armani suit. Diamond cufflinks...
When Cocina was aroused enough from the aggressive, dominant fucking with the strap-on, she took it off, cast it aside, and lay on her back, exposing herself. "Slave! Inserteth thy penisest, soest I canst cometh!"
Larry did as he was told. He knew that he was expected to produce an ejaculation - Cocina liked it better that way - and it was hard enough to stay erect, but he made himself focus on the bronze hair of Cocina... the cinnabar hair of Cole. Oh yes. Larry grit his teeth and worked his hips, imagining he was sliding in and out of Cole's silken heat. When Cocina climaxed, the feel of her cunt contracting, clenching his cock, set Larry off too, coming with a deep groan.
"That wast good, slave," Cocina said with a smile. "So goodly I thinkst thou deserveth thine own name."
"I hath a name," Larry informed her. "It beest Laurentinius Hor -"
"Bussius Maximus," Cocina proclaimed.
Larry's face fell.
Cocina was not one for cuddling, which Larry was grateful for. Instead, she gave him a boon. "I will letteth thee usest mine exclusiveth bathest," Cocina said. The bath overlooked the gardens, but was still enclosed and an attempt at escape - especially nude - would prove difficult. Still, it would be good to wash the filth from his body.
As Larry departed in the direction of the Roman bath, Cocina's hand slid down and rested on her belly. It was the middle of her cycle; her husband was content to claim a bastard as his heir if he didn't have to fuck her. There was something special about this slave, with his light grey-violet eyes like exquisite amethysts from the outer reaches of the Empire. Her child would be special.
Very special.