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“Master, I accept I must be punished.” She spoke with clarity. Beneath her skirts her knees knocked together.
“Make her ready for me,” Felix commanded, his eyes sparkling with untold joy at her acquiescence.
Rufus, who’d taken no part in her sacrificial fucks, hesitated for a second. “Very well. I shall assist, but only to ensure her punishment is just.”
The room felt terribly dark, as if it knew she was about to suffer some fate at the hands of her master. With hands so shaky she doubted they could hold a thing in their clasp, she slithered out of her stola and inched her way over to the platform before the overly adorned altar. How many goddesses did he want to please in one night?
She folded, rather than bent. It wasn’t easy to do when every bone in her body seemed weak and her muscles wouldn’t stop twitching. Even her scalp prickled as if icy droplets of water were dancing on her head.
Rufus took her wrists and stretched out her arms before her. His grip was kindly but firm.
The rope was hemp, and reasonably soft. He coiled it around her wrists and bound her to the end of the table using an iron ring—no doubt fixed there for the very purpose.
“Spread your legs a little more,” he encouraged, stroking his thumbs along her cool skin.
She wanted to know if Rufus had done such a thing as this before, or was it only Felix who practised such acts. Were men drawn to take women so, or was it simply the act of punishment that required it? She hated her ignorance. She concluded, as she rested her chin on the soft fur, that it had to be a Roman thing, and Felix and Rufus were as good as Roman as any she’d ever met.
Felix had changed into his splendid armour with the bronze greaves and leather strapping. The loincloth could do little to hide his erection. He carried in his hands a bottle of olive oil—a precious commodity that was hard to find in cold Britannia. He prayed before the altar, speaking in hushed whispers but with a noticeable ardour. She glanced up and caught Rufus’s eye. She hoped he might smile or do something to reassure her; instead, he merely looked away and continued to keep his features set in stony indifference. He didn’t want this any more than her, that much was apparent, but he couldn’t stop his friend. Felix was her master, not Rufus.
With prayers completed, Felix resumed his position behind her bared bottom. She waited, desperately trying not to panic.
He pressed one hand on her lower spine while Rufus spanned his fingers around the back of her neck, keeping her locked in a rigid line from hands to ass.
The smack took her by surprise. She’d forgotten his promise to spank her bottom. She yelped and again when he swiped at the other cheek with something flat—a strip of leather or a scabbard, she daren’t look in case it scared her.
“Ow!” She bit down on her lower lip.
Smack followed smack. He worked the strap all over her two globes, making sure no spot was left untouched by his iron-cast hand. He even dropped below her tender crease and targeted a few on her soft thighs. She drummed her feet on the floor.
“A warm ass is an obedient ass,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, Master,” she replied breathlessly. She closed her eyes, unable to look at the row of statuettes on the altar that seem to stare at her disgrace.
With his hands cupping her burning lobes, he slipped his fingertips along the groove of her arse, drawing them slowly down until they skated along her slit and separated the soft folds that hid her pussy. The sensation both soothed her and brought a heat with it, which triggered an arousal that swept up through her belly and into her nipples. He dragged her liquefied essence back over her anus and circled it. She clasped her hands together, weaving her fingers into knots as he resumed the spanking. After another six thunderous slaps on each buttock, smacks that caused her to cry out, he stopped and once more smeared her wetness into her most private of places. Her naive clitoris tingled in response, it was impossible to control the little organ. Instead, she clenched her throbbing buttocks together and squirmed.
Rufus coiled his hands in the locks of her hair and kissed the back of her head. “You’re doing well. Keep those legs spread and open, Bethan,” he whispered.
“Relax those hot cheeks. Go on,” Felix urged.
Rufus explained. “The warmth will ease the passage of the oil.”
Before she asked what he meant, Felix poked his forefinger inside of her and rimmed her tight anus. He massaged and prodded, using his fingers gently to stretch her wider.
“Ooh,” she squealed, wriggling her bottom from side to side. “It burns a little.”
“Mm,” Felix murmured. “So it might.” He slid his finger back and forth quickly, while his other hand kept her pinioned.
The burning diminished and the sensation grew more inviting. It was the strangest feeling and not one she was sure she either liked or disliked. Then, as the candles seemed to lose their luminosity, Felix shifted, and disappeared out of her eye line to a familiar spot directly behind her. The loincloth dropped on the floor.
“Remember, this punishment, this pain you’ll suffer, is for the good of all of us.” He hooked his thumbs on either side of her tensing buttocks and prised them apart. The smooth head of his cock pressed against her anus.
He’d an enormous erection. She’d never thought of it as that huge, but given her tiny bud, it had to be too big. Tears threatened to fill her eyes. As he leaned into her, she screeched.
Felix paused. Rufus lowered his head and kissed her again. “Be brave, sweet Bethan,” he said quietly into her ear. “He’ll not harm you. It is best you lie still and accept your fate.”
She sniffed. “Yes, I’ll try. Please stay close.”
The room darkened further and an oppressive heat descended and mingled with the raw tension between the three of them. If only she had the experience of the lovely ladies of Rome, she was sure she would like it.
