Vignette 32
Vignette 32
| Sex Story Author: | AG31 |
| Sex Story Excerpt: | She ran her fingers over the articulated muscles of his torso and thighs and then lightly stroked his sex, both |
| Sex Story Category: | Anal |
| Sex Story Tags: | Anal, BDSM, Domination/submission, Fiction, Hardcore, Humiliation, Sado-Masochism |
Vignette #2
Marius placed the last goblet on his silver tray in front of the guest sitting next to Clelia, the wife of the commander of the military base. Marius was totally naked. He didn’t even have adornments like those of his companion female servers. Tonight this one displayed jewels hanging from her nipples and at the end of a chain around her hips. It rested between her legs just below her mound. Marius didn’t know her name. He had disciplined himself not to become acquainted with female slaves, ever since, in the first few weeks he was here, on two occasions young men from the village had been severely whipped in front of him, as punishment for his having allowed himself an erection without permission. Reliving that torture was enough to ward off any arousal.
He was allowed to relieve himself sexually in the privacy of his cell. But “privacy” was not an accurate de***********ion. The braziers in the hallway were never all extinguished, and the guards appeared outside the barred wall randomly to watch him. He hadn’t had an orgasm in many weeks.
The village that was home to the young men was the reason Marius was a naked slave in the household of the barbarian commander. He had volunteered when the company he commanded had been defeated while trying to defend an outlying village. The Scots commander had offered the deal. Give him a strong, handsome, important man to be his slave and the village would be saved. Marius offered himself. During those two years stoicism had been his refuge. He could only hope that someday the Scots would be defeated and he could go home. But best not to spend too much of himself on hope.
It was not a hard life. They treated him like a pet. If he allowed it, he would have felt humiliation, but insofar as he allowed himself feelings, what he felt for his captors was mostly contempt for their decadent way of living.
Clelia spoke to her neighbor. “Look at him. Isn’t he marvelous? We view these slaves as art. They are imbued with esthetic perfection. They spend hours each day in physical training. And watch this.” She motioned Marius to approach.
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