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“No, behave,” he warned, and took hold of her flailing arm and bent it back behind her until her hand nestled in the small of her back. There he held it while he spanked her bottom.
She cried. It wasn’t through pain, although he wasn’t holding back, but more due to frustration and confusion. Rufus made sure she understood her predicament with a few choice words.
“You are a slave. Owned. You have no rights. No freedom to choose what happens to you.” He emphasised his words with spanks that must stir the mice from their nests and the birds from their roosts. He swept his hand upward so that the palm collided with the crease of her thigh and maximised her discomfort. On and on he spanked, unabashed by her parted legs and exposed sex, which had betrayed her wantonness. The haze of pain had no impact on her desire for Rufus.
If he took her there, she’d let him. She would, she knew it and wanted it. The realisation was too much and she sobbed, allowing the tears to run off her end of her nose amongst the snot as she hung her head in shame.
“Felix is your master. He needs you more than you can know. He needs your lust, your vitality. Give it to him and I shall reward you, too.” He rested his hand on her toasted arse and rubbed each buttock in turn. “Good, that’s better. Felix is a stern master, but not unfair. However, if you run away again or disobey him, you shall be punished severely.”
She spat out the gnawed linen. “I won’t run away, not while you need me.”
Rufus slid his fingers along her slit. He rubbed his fingers together. “You’re wet, slave. If spanking makes you hungry for a fuck, then that is no bad thing.”
“Please don’t tell Felix,” she whimpered. “I don’t want him to know what I’ve become.”
He helped her up and gathered her into his arms with the cloak draped over her shoulders. “I think he already knows. It is why he chose you.”
“What about you, Rufus? Did you choose me too?”
He swept the hair out of her tearful eyes. Lowering his lips, he kissed each eye before answering. “I chose you for a different reason. But,” he sighed, “until Felix has claimed you first, I can only wait.”
“For what?” She snuggled against his chest until his heartbeats were audible.
He said nothing. After a while, when the heat of her punished bottom ceased to make her wince, he told her to dress and follow him back to the cam where he fashioned a cold compress using damp leaves. She lay on her belly and he lifted her skirt to place the cold leaves on her heated backside. Then he covered her.
“Stay still and sleep. These will help with the pain.”
Her drooping eyelids flopped over her eyes. Only as she drifted off, did she notice that Felix was not where she last saw him. He’d moved.
Chapter Eight
When Bethan ran into the woods, Felix was wide awake. However, he let Rufus give chase and followed the pair of them quietly, so not to give himself away. He watched, and listened, from the cover of the undergrowth. When she undressed, he felt the familiar stirring of his hungry cock and considered it a good sign that he desired her so much. The fallen tree was a good choice for punishing her and it afforded Felix a clear view of her luscious ass.
Felix was particularly impressed with Rufus’s judgement and temperament. Given how violent a life both men had lived for many years, Rufus’s treatment of the runaway slave was commendable.
By the time Rufus had finished spanking her, she was wet and Felix’s cock was nearly fully erect. Rufus was hungry for her, too—he pressed his hand over the bulge in his breeches as if to calm it. Felix waited, wondering if Rufus would take her there and then. It would be unfortunate given that Felix preferred her to be pure as possible for his ritual. However, it wasn’t necessary for her to be a virgin. He was quite sure she wasn’t one anyway. Rufus, having completed the spanking, which he’d conducted with a strong arm and moderate pace, held back from fucking her. Instead, he allowed her to dress.
Felix carefully extracted himself from the cover of the bushes and returned to the camp. Rufus’s lust for Bethan pleased Felix. He wasn’t jealous or possessive of the girl, at least not in a way that precluded sharing her. She had a purpose and he would enjoy fucking her when the time came. Rufus desired her and he could have her, too; his friend deserved the girl. Back in coliseum, Rufus fought off three combatants, including an axeman standing over Felix, poised to strike his injured body. Felix owed him a debt of gratitude.
He lay closer to the embers of the fire and pretended to sleep. The scrunch of leaves under foot heralded the arrival of the other two returned, but he stayed still with his eyes shut. She winced as she lay down. Felix admired her tenacity. She’d been on the receiving end of two spankings in as many days and borne them both well. She was a strong woman who would bring him prosperity, assuming together they could appease the gods.
In the morning, she opted to walk for a while before sitting on the jolting cart. Rufus said nothing to Felix about the escape attempt. Covering up her transgression failed to rile Felix; the young buck was enamoured by her and she seemed to have learnt her lesson. Felix was confident she would not try to escape again.
The journey took three days. The walkers had set the pace and not the horses. He permitted the slaves to talk amongst themselves, which they had softly with the exception of Bethan who remained aloof and uneasy. He rode ahead to see for himself what he’d earned from his
many fights and freedom. The stone house, barn, and small mill were on the brow of a rolling hill with a stream running in a nearby valley. Around the walls was the farmland, which was fallow and would need tilling. The house itself was in better condition than he anticipated. There were a few roof tiles missing and some shutters hanging loose, but otherwise it was intact.
He dismounted and tethered his horse. While he waited for the others to reach the villa, he explored. The villa was laid out in a square and typically Roman in design, although it would have been built by wealthy Britons who desired the Roman way of life. There was a small bathhouse, a dining room and kitchen along one side, and on the other side smaller rooms for sleeping. At the far end was the room he sought. The floor was covered in an intricate mosaic showing wild imaginary beasts, while the roof was decorated with paintings. Probably used by the previous occupants as a living room, this would be his temple to all the great gods and specifically goddess of fertility and here he would offer up Bethan as his vessel.
When Rufus arrived with the slaves, he issued his orders standing on a small boulder—there was much to do. The rooms to be swept and the roof repaired. They had some supplies of food, but not enough. He would have to make a trip to the small settlement by the coast and buy grain, hops, and seed for planting. Wine, too, for his empty amphora. One slave, Caradoc, was a carpenter, and would repair the shutters and make furniture. The list of tasks stretched out before him.
Rufus offered him a flask of weak ale. “We’re here as last! This is a good location. Easy to defend. Water and wood nearby. Sheltered and soon there shall be crops growing. There are even apple trees with fruit budding.”
Felix nodded and smiled in agreement before taking a mouthful of warm ale. He couldn’t wait to brew his own.
“So,” Rufus drawled. “The girl. She is to be claimed soon?”
Felix chuckled. “Eager for me to sow my seeds, aren’t you?” He slapped the younger man on the back. “Patience. She can wait until the house is habitable for us all. I shall leave tomorrow and take one of the slaves. We need to trade and he is good with metal. If we buy some pieces of silver, he can make jewellery to sell until we have our own grain.” He’d planned it out on the long journey from Rome.
