jacksjg89
PROCRASTINATOR
Special thanks to RR and Eulalia for some background info on Roman life. And to the picture of two naked girls kissing with their hands at their sides I saw this morning, inspired the whole thing. Complete first draft I wrote drunk and will complete the whole story drunk if I have to before I try to revise anything, but any comments and criticisms, including gramatical errors, historical errors, continuity errors, the fact that I used the word naked a bit too much, will be apreciated. Good to be back.
I
Aurella could do little, swinging from side to side, but think about what a day this had been, and how her fortunes had turned from depressing to non existent. She couldnt laugh, as her she was suspended by her wrist from the ceiling of her cell, and any strained lung movement would likely cause her to choke and suffocate painfully, but she could appreciate the sad, unfortunate irony of it all.
Naked in the morning, she had snuggled up to her sister in-law, 5 years her junior. Side by side, above the covers, Aurella opened her eyes to see the lovely face of Marilla, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber. And Aurella just stared at this lovely girl, her soft white figure reaching from her shoulder to the tips of her toes, long blond hair falling all around her beautiful face. What a beautiful face it was, even before the golden locks of hair were pushed up. When Venus was a virgin, she must have looked like this. Marilla inspired in Aurella a desire to both love her physically and protect her from the evils of this world. She had been so shy at first, when the broach was removed and soft linen fell around her feet. She had used her hand to cover the cleft between her bare legs, and her arm to hide the stiff tips of her breast. Now, both arms under her cheeks, and she breathed quietly in Aurella's face. She lay exposed without a care in the world, for the world didn't not exist to her at the moment. Aurella wondered, was Marilla dreaming of her? Was she dreaming of the live together they had both believed could never be, at one point.
Aurella continued to watch the girl, her girl, taking in air beautifully through her little nose and expelling it between the lips that had never been so wet, to watch her belly move forward and back, and her beautiful mounds expand and retract, as if it was a hand beckoning the observer forward. And to Aurella's surprise, she found her fingers intwined in the thin stream of blond hair on Marilla's head. She had not completely shaven, as her lover had suggested, but had cleaned the sides so that a little strand of hair identified her as golden headed, even if one was not looking at her face. Aurella, having scratched her tongue against the rough edges of her lovers shaven areas was grateful.
Herself, Aurella was a dark haired beauty with a face of misery and determination. Three years married to the patriarch of House Brutus had left her with little shame, dignity, and love of herself. This was her second marriage. When she had been a proud daughter of the Scipio family, married off to the son of a lesser senator's son at the age of 18, she had flat out refused to give him children. She loved her father, she forgave him for the choices in matrimony he made for her, and she deeply cared for her brother and male cousins, but other than that, she had little reverence for the power of men and the gifts they possessed.
Her father was not please by her divorce, and let her know how disappointed he was. That had been the worst part, disappointing the man she truly loved the most. She set aside her pride when it came to her second, and very much more important match, to heir of their greatest political rival. The marriage held this extremely uneasy alliance together by its pinky and thumb, and Aurella's family depended upon this hostile friendship much more than her husband's family did.
Not long before the marriage ceremony, her husband's father had died, making Augustus Brutus the head of the Brutus family, making him one of the most powerful men in all of the Roman empire. They were married in Napoli, two days after he had laid his father to rest. Aurella knew she could not easily put off her second husband, nearly twice her age and not the boy her first had been, the way she had before, but it would be a terrible understatement to say she was dismayed by what happened on her wedding night.
Augustus Brutus had stripped off, his cock already fully erect when he noticed that his dark haired wife was still dressed. Aurella knew that the sight of an exposed member would do nothing for her, but she never expected to be so repulsed by the sight of a nude man. She told him that she was not ready to bear him children, that she needed time too prepare so that she may be the perfect wife and mother. Her vile husband, without an ounce of shame on his face, went out into the corridor and barked orders at his guards. Four giant armoured brutes entered her husband's sleeping chambers, paying little attention to his lack of attire and apparent arousal, and before Aurella knew it, a soldier had ripped her dress clean off.
She had been naked then too, and for the first time in her life, she was exposed in front of men. It had been more shame than she had ever experienced in her entire life, and that's when her husbands guards tied ropes about her wrist and ankles and strapped her spread eagle to the bed. She screamed at them through tears of rage and humiliation until one of them stuff a piece of cloth in her mouth, gagging her. Tears flowed as her fowl husband, powerful in his nudity, ordered his guards out so that he may create an heir.
That had been the most horrific experience of her life. She had once seen one of her father's servants stripped as naked as she was and receiving 15 lashes for some minor theft. This had been when she was much younger, and may have been the day when she decided she preferred women. The girl was suspended by her wrist as her father counted off the strokes. Aurella, who guiltily enjoyed the spectacle, thought that it was over all too soon, but conceded that to the girl, the lashes and the stares must have lasted years.
And now, it was her turn to feel the slow passage of time as her husband raped her on her wedding night. When he finished inside her, a hot foreign substance clawing its way further through her body, he rolled over on his back and fell asleep without untying her. The next morning, the first thing she noticed was that she was dehydrated. The second thing she noticed was Augustus Brutus raping her again. This time, the moans into her gag hurt as much as her violated orifice. Again, the foul seed clawed deeper and deeper into her, and she continued to cry in bondage as her husband was dressed by his manservant. For he was to address the senate that morning.
Aurella could barely feel her hands and feet and she squirmed, being completely ignored by the two men not 3 meters away from her. When he was finally dressed, and his man had left, Augustus walked to the foot of the bed and stared at his new wife. With his eyes, he thoroughly raped her for the third time. It was the first time he really saw her, and she hated it. Purple feet attached to milk white legs, up to the long thin shadow between her legs and the messy black hairs above it, her breast shook from side to side as she struggled in the ropes, matched her face that silently pleaded, mercy, please forgive me for what I've done.
"By tonight, you will be completely clean shaven down there," was all he said before he left, ordering his guards to untie his wife."
"Ouch," whispered Marilla. To Aurella's horror, she found her knuckles clenched, pulling at those beautiful blond hairs. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." Aurella hated herself, and then realizing that hate was the problem, hated herself again. She had thought about Augustus when she was with Marilla. She had thoughts of hate when she should have had thoughts of love, and she had brought the ugly images of the hideous man and his foul cock in front of the most beautiful creature in the world sleeping in front of her. Two years, an endless cycle of being tortured, tormented, humiliated, scared, and exposed in front of that beast they called her husband, had that crushed any sense of love in her?
Marilla, half awake, brushed her hand through the thin bush. "I'll get rid of the rest of it this morning. Right now in fact. But Aurella grabbed her head and pulled it towards her so that they were nose to nose. "Don't you dare change a thing about you. Do you dare take orders from anyone, especially not me." And, brushing underneath the little forest Aurella's fingers found the opening. "You are the most beautiful creature in the world as you are." And she kissed her. The kissed with tongues and with fingers.
It was beyond pleasure. It felt almost holy. As Aurella's lips continued to lock with Marilla's, she felt a warmth climbing up her, and touching her very soul. It wasn't the hot slime her husband had given her, but a warm glow that started at the tips of soft fingers rubbing gently in circular motions, raced up her spine, and swirled around her breast and brought warmth to her cheeks. In her ecstasy, she barely realized that her tongue was licking up tears.
"What's wrong?" Aurella was filled with love. The Young Marilla was beautiful when she laughed and smiled, but just as beautiful in her vulnerability. Marilla may have surprised herself to find that she was crying, and twisted away from Aurella, and sitting cross legged, buried her face in her hands. "It's all wrong. It can't be like this. This isn't real." "Of course it's real." Aurella knew when a woman wanted to be touched and, despite her own feelings, this wasn't the proper time. She merely put her hand on Marilla's shoulder and stroked her neck with her thumb. "Don't you feel that? Don't you see me? Look at me!" It was more forceful than intended, but the crying girl turned to look at her lover. She was balanced on her toes and knees, spread wide open, her heels supporting her buttocks, nipples usually soft had grown hard. Aurella took both Marilla's hands, planting one on the side of her burning cheek, the other in between her legs, the hairless cleft that lay within. She might grow it again. She had never had any objection to it. Her husband commanded her to keep that area "clean" as he put it, but he would no be a factor very soon. "This is real," she told Marilla, grudgingly fighting the arousal from those fingers just outside her.
Back home, her true home, her friends had told her that they liked it when men looked at them, and Aurella had never understood it until she saw the look in Marilla's eyes, up and down, mouth opening to let out a silent whimper of joy, that she could be in the presence of such a person could see not just all of her, but into her. Aurella felt especially naked, but it filled her with excitement rather than humiliation. It was not arrogance or wishful thinking, she knew she was loved. But Marilla drew her hands away, her sadness returning. "It will be all over soon. My brother... Your husband, he'll send me off and we'll never... never." And she broke down again.
I joined her in crying, even though there was no logical reason I should, except that it was contagious. I wrapped my arms around her, and held her close, and she wrapped her arms around me. "I promise you, we will never be parted. I will never ever let them take you away from me. You are mine, and I am yours, and woe to anyone who says differently."
That Morning Aurella was naked, on a bed in her villa, in the embrace of the one she loved the most. By nightfall, she was naked, covered in dry sweat and spit, hanging by her wrist in the dungeons. The small chain that connected her ankles brushed against the filthy stone floor. And she shared this dungeon cell with old king of Crete, who had not seen a woman in 17 years, he counted, let alone a beauty such as this, a naked shaven black haired girl, nearly within his filthy hands.
She felt the humiliation again. She was tormented by the lewd comments of the ex king of Crete about what he intended to do with her once he reclaimed his crown, tortured by not knowing what had happened to her Marilla, and scared to know the answer. She was also naked, and exposed to guards, ex kings, and anyone that wished to walk in and see her, which included on this occasion her late husbands brother, and co-conspirator Cryprion.
Aurella ignored the fact he wore a golden embroidered red silk robe, and that she wore nothing. That he was free not only to come a go as he please, but to have men take him there, tied and dangling, at the mercy of her captors. And most of all, she ignored that after hours of being in this condition without food or water, she was physically and vocally weak. She mustered all her strength to hoarsely call to her visitor "You... betrayed..."
I
Aurella could do little, swinging from side to side, but think about what a day this had been, and how her fortunes had turned from depressing to non existent. She couldnt laugh, as her she was suspended by her wrist from the ceiling of her cell, and any strained lung movement would likely cause her to choke and suffocate painfully, but she could appreciate the sad, unfortunate irony of it all.
Naked in the morning, she had snuggled up to her sister in-law, 5 years her junior. Side by side, above the covers, Aurella opened her eyes to see the lovely face of Marilla, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber. And Aurella just stared at this lovely girl, her soft white figure reaching from her shoulder to the tips of her toes, long blond hair falling all around her beautiful face. What a beautiful face it was, even before the golden locks of hair were pushed up. When Venus was a virgin, she must have looked like this. Marilla inspired in Aurella a desire to both love her physically and protect her from the evils of this world. She had been so shy at first, when the broach was removed and soft linen fell around her feet. She had used her hand to cover the cleft between her bare legs, and her arm to hide the stiff tips of her breast. Now, both arms under her cheeks, and she breathed quietly in Aurella's face. She lay exposed without a care in the world, for the world didn't not exist to her at the moment. Aurella wondered, was Marilla dreaming of her? Was she dreaming of the live together they had both believed could never be, at one point.
Aurella continued to watch the girl, her girl, taking in air beautifully through her little nose and expelling it between the lips that had never been so wet, to watch her belly move forward and back, and her beautiful mounds expand and retract, as if it was a hand beckoning the observer forward. And to Aurella's surprise, she found her fingers intwined in the thin stream of blond hair on Marilla's head. She had not completely shaven, as her lover had suggested, but had cleaned the sides so that a little strand of hair identified her as golden headed, even if one was not looking at her face. Aurella, having scratched her tongue against the rough edges of her lovers shaven areas was grateful.
Herself, Aurella was a dark haired beauty with a face of misery and determination. Three years married to the patriarch of House Brutus had left her with little shame, dignity, and love of herself. This was her second marriage. When she had been a proud daughter of the Scipio family, married off to the son of a lesser senator's son at the age of 18, she had flat out refused to give him children. She loved her father, she forgave him for the choices in matrimony he made for her, and she deeply cared for her brother and male cousins, but other than that, she had little reverence for the power of men and the gifts they possessed.
Her father was not please by her divorce, and let her know how disappointed he was. That had been the worst part, disappointing the man she truly loved the most. She set aside her pride when it came to her second, and very much more important match, to heir of their greatest political rival. The marriage held this extremely uneasy alliance together by its pinky and thumb, and Aurella's family depended upon this hostile friendship much more than her husband's family did.
Not long before the marriage ceremony, her husband's father had died, making Augustus Brutus the head of the Brutus family, making him one of the most powerful men in all of the Roman empire. They were married in Napoli, two days after he had laid his father to rest. Aurella knew she could not easily put off her second husband, nearly twice her age and not the boy her first had been, the way she had before, but it would be a terrible understatement to say she was dismayed by what happened on her wedding night.
Augustus Brutus had stripped off, his cock already fully erect when he noticed that his dark haired wife was still dressed. Aurella knew that the sight of an exposed member would do nothing for her, but she never expected to be so repulsed by the sight of a nude man. She told him that she was not ready to bear him children, that she needed time too prepare so that she may be the perfect wife and mother. Her vile husband, without an ounce of shame on his face, went out into the corridor and barked orders at his guards. Four giant armoured brutes entered her husband's sleeping chambers, paying little attention to his lack of attire and apparent arousal, and before Aurella knew it, a soldier had ripped her dress clean off.
She had been naked then too, and for the first time in her life, she was exposed in front of men. It had been more shame than she had ever experienced in her entire life, and that's when her husbands guards tied ropes about her wrist and ankles and strapped her spread eagle to the bed. She screamed at them through tears of rage and humiliation until one of them stuff a piece of cloth in her mouth, gagging her. Tears flowed as her fowl husband, powerful in his nudity, ordered his guards out so that he may create an heir.
That had been the most horrific experience of her life. She had once seen one of her father's servants stripped as naked as she was and receiving 15 lashes for some minor theft. This had been when she was much younger, and may have been the day when she decided she preferred women. The girl was suspended by her wrist as her father counted off the strokes. Aurella, who guiltily enjoyed the spectacle, thought that it was over all too soon, but conceded that to the girl, the lashes and the stares must have lasted years.
And now, it was her turn to feel the slow passage of time as her husband raped her on her wedding night. When he finished inside her, a hot foreign substance clawing its way further through her body, he rolled over on his back and fell asleep without untying her. The next morning, the first thing she noticed was that she was dehydrated. The second thing she noticed was Augustus Brutus raping her again. This time, the moans into her gag hurt as much as her violated orifice. Again, the foul seed clawed deeper and deeper into her, and she continued to cry in bondage as her husband was dressed by his manservant. For he was to address the senate that morning.
Aurella could barely feel her hands and feet and she squirmed, being completely ignored by the two men not 3 meters away from her. When he was finally dressed, and his man had left, Augustus walked to the foot of the bed and stared at his new wife. With his eyes, he thoroughly raped her for the third time. It was the first time he really saw her, and she hated it. Purple feet attached to milk white legs, up to the long thin shadow between her legs and the messy black hairs above it, her breast shook from side to side as she struggled in the ropes, matched her face that silently pleaded, mercy, please forgive me for what I've done.
"By tonight, you will be completely clean shaven down there," was all he said before he left, ordering his guards to untie his wife."
"Ouch," whispered Marilla. To Aurella's horror, she found her knuckles clenched, pulling at those beautiful blond hairs. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." Aurella hated herself, and then realizing that hate was the problem, hated herself again. She had thought about Augustus when she was with Marilla. She had thoughts of hate when she should have had thoughts of love, and she had brought the ugly images of the hideous man and his foul cock in front of the most beautiful creature in the world sleeping in front of her. Two years, an endless cycle of being tortured, tormented, humiliated, scared, and exposed in front of that beast they called her husband, had that crushed any sense of love in her?
Marilla, half awake, brushed her hand through the thin bush. "I'll get rid of the rest of it this morning. Right now in fact. But Aurella grabbed her head and pulled it towards her so that they were nose to nose. "Don't you dare change a thing about you. Do you dare take orders from anyone, especially not me." And, brushing underneath the little forest Aurella's fingers found the opening. "You are the most beautiful creature in the world as you are." And she kissed her. The kissed with tongues and with fingers.
It was beyond pleasure. It felt almost holy. As Aurella's lips continued to lock with Marilla's, she felt a warmth climbing up her, and touching her very soul. It wasn't the hot slime her husband had given her, but a warm glow that started at the tips of soft fingers rubbing gently in circular motions, raced up her spine, and swirled around her breast and brought warmth to her cheeks. In her ecstasy, she barely realized that her tongue was licking up tears.
"What's wrong?" Aurella was filled with love. The Young Marilla was beautiful when she laughed and smiled, but just as beautiful in her vulnerability. Marilla may have surprised herself to find that she was crying, and twisted away from Aurella, and sitting cross legged, buried her face in her hands. "It's all wrong. It can't be like this. This isn't real." "Of course it's real." Aurella knew when a woman wanted to be touched and, despite her own feelings, this wasn't the proper time. She merely put her hand on Marilla's shoulder and stroked her neck with her thumb. "Don't you feel that? Don't you see me? Look at me!" It was more forceful than intended, but the crying girl turned to look at her lover. She was balanced on her toes and knees, spread wide open, her heels supporting her buttocks, nipples usually soft had grown hard. Aurella took both Marilla's hands, planting one on the side of her burning cheek, the other in between her legs, the hairless cleft that lay within. She might grow it again. She had never had any objection to it. Her husband commanded her to keep that area "clean" as he put it, but he would no be a factor very soon. "This is real," she told Marilla, grudgingly fighting the arousal from those fingers just outside her.
Back home, her true home, her friends had told her that they liked it when men looked at them, and Aurella had never understood it until she saw the look in Marilla's eyes, up and down, mouth opening to let out a silent whimper of joy, that she could be in the presence of such a person could see not just all of her, but into her. Aurella felt especially naked, but it filled her with excitement rather than humiliation. It was not arrogance or wishful thinking, she knew she was loved. But Marilla drew her hands away, her sadness returning. "It will be all over soon. My brother... Your husband, he'll send me off and we'll never... never." And she broke down again.
I joined her in crying, even though there was no logical reason I should, except that it was contagious. I wrapped my arms around her, and held her close, and she wrapped her arms around me. "I promise you, we will never be parted. I will never ever let them take you away from me. You are mine, and I am yours, and woe to anyone who says differently."
That Morning Aurella was naked, on a bed in her villa, in the embrace of the one she loved the most. By nightfall, she was naked, covered in dry sweat and spit, hanging by her wrist in the dungeons. The small chain that connected her ankles brushed against the filthy stone floor. And she shared this dungeon cell with old king of Crete, who had not seen a woman in 17 years, he counted, let alone a beauty such as this, a naked shaven black haired girl, nearly within his filthy hands.
She felt the humiliation again. She was tormented by the lewd comments of the ex king of Crete about what he intended to do with her once he reclaimed his crown, tortured by not knowing what had happened to her Marilla, and scared to know the answer. She was also naked, and exposed to guards, ex kings, and anyone that wished to walk in and see her, which included on this occasion her late husbands brother, and co-conspirator Cryprion.
Aurella ignored the fact he wore a golden embroidered red silk robe, and that she wore nothing. That he was free not only to come a go as he please, but to have men take him there, tied and dangling, at the mercy of her captors. And most of all, she ignored that after hours of being in this condition without food or water, she was physically and vocally weak. She mustered all her strength to hoarsely call to her visitor "You... betrayed..."
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You gotta think with all that boredom and horseriding over 600 years things would happen!
