“You! Girl, wake up!”
The summons was sharp and to the point. Alyssandria opened her eyes and squinted against the bright light. At last, the sun. It still existed even if she hadn’t seen it for weeks.
“You’ve been bought,” sneered the Keeper showing his rotting teeth.
“Bought?” she echoed. “By who? No one has seen me.”
“The consul no less,” the man spit crudely. “He said the prettiest slave would do, and you’re the least ugly–”
Alyssandria stared at the man. “Marc Antony?”
“You’re to be a gift to the Egyptian whore they call queen,” he smirked. “A far worse slavery than I could offer you here.”
He opened the wrought iron cage door, and pull her out roughly by the arm. “And don’t you be professing your noble blood, you hear me? None of that. Do not embarrass me, girl. The consul has paid a pretty penny for you for the bitch queen, and you will serve her well–and anyone else for that matter, be it Antony himself!”
Alyssandria said nothing but allowed herself to be dragged from the dirty cages in the shed adjacent to the Keeper’s palace-like mansion. She was thrust at a group of lazy house slaves.
“Wash her. Give her a dress. Antony comes to collect her before midday,” he sneered. “Enjoy your servitude to the bitch queen and her bastard pup.”
Alyssandria was crudely bathed by the lazy wives of the Keeper and they whispered about her in their foreign tongue while their hands roughly grazed her skin. Alyssandria shrank from their touch but that would not stop them by bruising her with their pinches and scrubbing. At last, she was clean. She smelled of lavender and even one of the Keeper’s women had managed to tie up her hair. The dress he’d mentioned was nothing more than a rough sack that had been sewn to cover Alyssandria’s large breasts and the tops of her thighs. As midday approached she sat in the corner of the kitchen, waiting. She did not expect Antony himself to come and fetch her; she did not expect to see Antony period. She expected the usual slave treatment–she would kept below deck in the stale air with the other “gifts.”
She was not scared. In fact, she was excited. No matter how cruelly, Antony treated her before he handed her over to Cleopatra, she knew it would be better than living in a cage as she had for the last three years. She would serve her new mistress well and gain trust and by doing so, she would work for her freedom. In her mind, it seemed a perfect plan.
“Is this her?”
The very distinct male voice grabbed her attention. In the middle of the kitchen, which had looked like a mansion, stood Marc Antony, who filled the room with his presence, and shrank the size of it to barely big enough to accommodate him. He was just as handsome as she had heard from the other slaves girls–girls who had been out into the world before their masters had sold them to the Keeper. They said that his appetite could not be sated–especially for pretty young girls or even ugly ones for that matter. Alyssandria made up her mind to hate him, then and there. He was a hound–always thinking with his cock than his brain–at least that’s what she’d heard the women in the cages around her say.
“Yes, sir,” the Keeper was all mannerly now. He greedily wanted Antony’s money and the reputation for selling to the consul on his “journey” to Egypt. It was a banishment to the Eastern provinces from Octavian, but that was a carefully guarded secret. “This is the girl I promised you. A fine ladies’ maid, you’ll fine none better.”
Alyssandria regarded Antony with frightened eyes. He wore his aristocratic toga with his gold laurels, but his pressence was ever frightening.
“Where does she come from?”
“She was brought to me by her mother–a poor whore of a woman. She was in sore need of money, and brought the child to me when she was only seven. She has been raised in my care ever since.”
“And how long ago was this?”
“Ten years ago, sir.”
“And you’ve never sold her? Do you have some attachment to her? Tasted her wares and decided to keep her for yourself?” Antony was goading the man. Getting his hackles up, to keep the price down. Not that Antony didn’t have money to spend on the present for Cleopatra, he just enjoyed a good battle–on the field or in the square.
“She’s too prissy for my taste. I like my women round and tamed,” he commented. “But then again, you can tame any woman, can’t you, Antony?”
The large man had the nerve to laugh. “I see my reputation proceeds me. Very well, you shall have your price for her. She is presentable enough.”
He nodded to the keeper, and turned toward the door. As he did so, he said in a low voice, but loud enough for Alyssandria to hear, “You say she has a wild streak, do you?”
The Keeper grinned. If he knew one thing, he knew people. And he knew how to sell them on things they didn’t realize they didn’t need.
“Indeed, sir. But I’ve my doubts on whether any man could settle it or not,” the Keeper said, following Antony out to arrange the trade of gold for flesh.
They left for the ship not long after that.
“Tiam, you are to watch over my investment,” Antony said, as Alyssandria was led out into the yard and into the daylight. “You will stay with her constantly. Make sure she is well fed and healthy. It would not due to give the mighty queen a sickly slave.”
A tall lanky boy of about seventeen, appeared and grasp her roughly by the arms. “Sir. Shall I fetch some irons?”
Antony looked taken aback. “What? Irons, for what?”
Tiam looked at Alyssandria and then back at his master. “If she should want to escape?”
“After going into that house of horrors, I assume that this is an escape,” he gazed thoughtfully at Alyssandria’s form, causing her blush to the roots of her honey blonde hair. “But she is reported to be wild, so fetch them, but do not put them on her. I think the sight shall be enough to keep this young thing on track.”
He mounted his horse and led the parade through the squallor of the poor slums of Rome to where the ship waited for him.
Alyssandria was tied with a rope, even though Antony had told the boy that restraining her would not be necessary. She was dragged along behind him on display for the whole town to see. Many of the men who lined the streets to see Antony’s parade whistled and called names to her. Alyssandria hid her face in shame but continued to walk, lest she would dragged.
Aboard the ship, Tiam took her below deck and tied her a beam among a few other slaves. He left her there to the lewd stares of the dirty oarsmen and the slaves.
“Hello, bea-u-ti-ful,” said one naked slave as he looked at her. Unashamed, he followed her gaze to his rising member which hardened even more under her stare. “It’s been a long time since I’ve something that beautiful. Why don’t you come over here and make us both feel better.”
Alyssandria jerked her gaze to the opposite side of the ship. To where a guard was watching them both. He nodded encouragingly.
“Go ahead, give him a suck. He’s been a good man so far.”
She faced the beam and closed her eyes. The ropes that held her securely fastened were cut by the soldier and she was free.
“Go on, give him what he wants. Look at his cock, it needs attention,” the soldier gave her a hard shove that sent her down to the deck.
Alyssandria did not move from where she landed. The soldier kicked her hard sending her sprawling.
“Suck his cock.”
Alyssandria turned defiant eyes back on the soldier. “Fuck you.”
“What?” the soldier looked down at her. “What did you say to me?”
“I said, fuck you,” she replied, using the words she’d heard the other slaves use
in defiance. She didn’t even know what they meant, but she knew that she wasn’t going to put that dirty thing in her mouth, no matter what they did to her.
“You fucking whore!” t
he soldier lunged to kick her again. “You’ll suck his cock and my cock and the cocks all the men on board if I say so! I’ll knock your teeth out and skull fuck right here for the gods and all to see!”
“I think not, Elurus,” said that same booming voice.
Antony stood behind the soldier and with a rough jerk, at the man toppling the deck himself. He took the same hand he’d used to throw the man to the deck to gently raise Alyssandria to her feet.
“This is my personal property. She is to be given to the Queen of Egypt at the initiation ceremony. Nothing is to happen to her! Nothing! She is to remain as she is, embarrassed and unfucked. Am I understood?”
“We wasn’t gonna fuck her. We just wanted her to suck us off. No harm from a cum in the throat if not in pussy!” replied the slave, which earned him a Marc Antony’s boot to his jaw. The slave spit blood and tooth on to the deck.
“Where the fuck is Tiam? I left you in his care, never mind. You will stay in my room until I find him and we set sail.”
Glancing between the two alternatives, Alyssandria knew she had no choice. Antony would not leave her among the randy sailors that he had just disciplined. She bowed her head and waited.
“Ladies, first,” he said, issuing her to walk in front of him. She did so as he led her to his cabin.
She felt his gaze on her ass and it made her skin tingle. She did not like this man, and she never would. She had to cling to that resolve. She knew the stories of Antony and his women–how he’d seduced Octavian’s mother Atia and then married Octavian’s sister. Just because he’d saved her from sticking those men’s things into her mouth, didn’t mean that she would gratefully stick his thing into her mouth.
She stopped at the door and waited for Marc Antony to open it. He did so and waited for her to enter with a sweep of his hand. She went inside and stood awkwardly in the corner.
He looked over at her, smiling to himself. “Not on board an hour and causing a stir. I see where your keeper got that bit about a wild streak.”
Alyssandria did not reply to that. Marc Antony walked to the wine basin and pour himself a glass. He brought it to his lips.
Alyssandria didn’t want to look at him, but she did, and again that tingle she felt in her skin took over and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. What was it about him that made her tingle? Maybe it was her skin crawling–but she didn’t feel repulsed by him.
“Have you sucked a cock before? Just out of curiosity,” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Alyssandria shook her head.
Antony laughed. “Have you ever seen one?”
Again, she shook her head.
“Don’t tell me, I’ve gone and bought a virgin!” he said in a mock lament. “A pretty thing like you? Your keeper must’ve tried something–that is if he get that greasy prig up long enough–”
She looked away.
“Can you speak?” he demanded.
She looked up and he was three inches from her face.
“I can speak,” she said, finding her voice.
“Good, there we go. This should make discussion much easier,” he said, smiling. He put the cup of wine to her lips. “Take a drink.”
“I won’t stick yours in my mouth either,” she said bravely.
Antony smiled. “Since you don’t even know what it is, I hardly think you should be worried. Drink.”
She did not want to make a such a powerful man angry. She opened her mouth just enough for Antony to tilt the cup and let the wine slide down her throat. The room was suddenly hot and her skin was tingling much more than usual.
“A virgin, imagine that, I didn’t think there was one left in Rome,” he smiled that breath-taking smile again. “Well, since I can’t trust Tiam to look after you and I can’t leave you among the other slaves you will just have to stay here with me.”
The thought seemed more dangerous than staying with the other slaves. She would not be seduced. She would not.
She looked down.
“Does it scare you to stay with me?” he asked, clearly goading her.
It should. But something about Antony didn’t scare her; it excited her.
“I think you should be,” he said with a laugh. “But not tonight.”
“Where should I sleep?” she asked nervously.
“I usually have a perfect idea, but I think that for the both of us, it would be best of Tiam made you a bed here.”
“Stay here. I shall return this evening,” he turned and looked at her once more before shutting the door behind him.
Alyssandria didn’t know what woke her. It was feeling. Skin against skin. She opened her eyes and prepared to scream as she felt Antony’s lips on her bare skin.
His mouth swiftly moved from her nipple to her mouth. He tasted like wine.
“What are you doing?” she hissed in the darkness.
Antony’s hands moved to her thighs and spread them around his hips. “Making you a true slave.”
“Please, sir, no,” she whispered.
“But this would please me, do you not want to please your master?” he said dropping to kiss her neck and her tits again. She could feel his hard throbbing cock pressed against her stomach.
To her horror, Alyssandria did want to please her master and herself. She had an overwhelming need to have him inside her.
“Not this way,” she pleaded.
“Would you prefer the bed?” he demanded, so smoothly. Without another word he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.
Alyssandria realized that they were both naked.
“I cannot do this,” she said quietly, but firmly, as Antony joined her on the bed. “I am not just some slave girl–”
Antony was not about to be denied. “But you are a slave girl, you are my slave girl.”
“No!” she pushed him hard. “I may be a slave girl, but I am not a whore. I will not do this with you.”
Antony sat up and stared at Alyssandria. Slowly, a smile formed across his lips. “You are scared. I keep forgetting with lips like those that you are a virgin. Very well, go to your pallet. I shall seduce you when you are ready.”
“I will never be ready.”
“Stronger women than you have fallen into my charm,” he said, letting her off the bed, and slapping her rump for good measure. “By the time we reach Egypt, you will be begging me to fuck you.”
“It is you who shall do the begging. I will have nothing to do with it.”
Antony tilted his head back and laughed loudly.