Cella
Spectator
Zaz has produced some remarkable images for this tale. However, I want to submit a prologue to set up the scenes for what follows.
Marcella's Dangerous Liaison
Prologue to Part 1
Marcella is a young woman of 19 years living in the city of Salona, the capital of the Roman province of Dalmatia. Dalmatia is across the Adriatic Sea from Italy, and as such is one of Rome’s oldest and most Romanized provinces. Salona is a very cosmopolitan city with a diverse mixture of ethnicities. Marcella’s family includes her father, Tirgar, her mother, Elira, and her younger sister Thessela. Marcella is a tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed, olive-skinned beauty as befits her father’s darker-skinned Thracian-Persian ancestry mixed with her mother’s native Illyrian blood. Illyrians, though an admittedly diverse group of peoples, were generally known as a tall and warlike. They may have been conquered by the Romans several centuries ago, but their stern, often domineering physical appearance made you believe they did not consider themselves conquered. Her father’s stock were hardly peaceful peoples themselves. Thracians have their own well-deserved reputation for bloodthirstiness. Marcella’s own willfulness and sometime heedlessly reckless nature and quick temper could fairly be said to have been inherited from both parents.
In Marcella and Thessela their parents’ traits blended to produce young women of exceptional bearing, appearance and intelligence, though with a tendency for rash behavior. Marcella matured from a skinny, gawky girl to a tall, exotically-beautiful young woman, slender and perfectly proportioned in build, with large, full breasts. Thessela, at 17 years, is blossoming into a tall, willowy beauty. She, too, is olive-skinned after her father, and with her mother’s imposing height she is even taller than Marcella.
Blessed with the good looks that most women can only dream of having, Marcella displays a devastating sensuality that never fails to turn a man’s head. Marcella is well-aware of her beauty and the effect it has on men. She is cheerful, flirtatious and teasing by nature, but perhaps has not yet learned that a woman should behave demurely in public, for her own protection and to avoid giving the wrong signals. But she is young and strong-willed and given somewhat to excessive pride in what gifts nature has fortuitously bestowed on her. Though of common birth her family is well-known and successful in the trade of fine textiles. This allowed Marcella to grow up comfortably, if not in ostentatious wealth. Not growing up in grinding poverty gives Marcella options in life many young women do not have. She often thinks about what sort of husband she would someday have. Would her father – whom she loves very much – simply arrange a marriage for her, or would he allow her to find the man of her dreams, such as that is possible for a girl of common, though hardly lowly, birth. Her parents never had any sons to take over the family business, so they were hoping for a good marriage for their daughter. A capable, reliable son-in-law could run the family business ensuring its success into the future. Then, if Marcella produced a son, there would be a male heir.
So, her parents’ plan for Marcella was to marry and produce a son. She was not, however, the daughter on whom this responsibility was supposed to fall. Marcella had an older sister, Barbara, who, several years ago, had run off with a handsome, roguish young man who later was found out to be a member of a rebel group that was actively opposing Roman rule in the mountainous regions further inland from Salona. When Rome sent an expeditionary force to root out the rebels everyone knew what would be the outcome. Indeed, the Roman army was ruthlessly effective in destroying the rebel force. Many captives were taken and were subsequently crucified along the roads leading into Salona. Neither Marcella nor her parents knew for certain the fate of Barbara. They preferred not to think about what horrible consequences her rash behavior might have caused her. Far better to think of her as alive somewhere in the mountains than having died nailed to a Roman cross, sold into slavery, or forced to serve as a barracks whore.
Her parents’ well-meaning plans that she marry a solid, respectable young man within her class never appealed to Marcella. She was a romantic and did not want to merely marry a bookkeeper or a shopkeeper. She wanted her husband to be dashing and handsome and anything but what her parents wanted for her. But where were such men? Salona is a comfortable city full of comfortable people – but nothing exciting! Marcella craved excitement in her life – and love. She was always falling in an and out of love. But men were so disappointing! They never seemed to bear up well under closer scrutiny. Though Marcella loved men – well, maybe at least the idea of men – she was not foolish enough to casually give up her precious virginity. No, she knew what a gift a woman’s virginity is: something that can only be given once. So Marcella became very adept at teasing and flirting with men at a rather young age. She might let a hand wander a bit over her every now and then, but she had definite boundaries when it came to male behavior. The only object between her legs now would be her own hand. As much as she ached and longed for a lover and husband, she was sensible enough to know at the right time the right man would present himself. She would know it for sure because she would fall helplessly in love in a way she never experienced before. But until that time she would never dishonor her parents. Barbara had done that and it had caused them great anguish. Marcella would be the good daughter – at least until her true love came around. But how would she know? Her nubile body was suffused with the sexual desires so intense in the young. Around her parents, she projected an air of disdain for the young men of her social class. They came from good families but were in the trades, hardly the class to produce the kind of young man Marcella pined for.
One such young man – her parent’s preference for her to marry – named Pannonius, was the son of another well-to-do merchant. The pair were well-matched socially, though Pannonius was nearly a decade older than Marcella. In fact, he had been a possible match for Barbara before she ran off with her doomed revolutionary. Pannonius, alas, despite his obvious intelligence, pleasant nature and genuine fondness for Marcella, was not particularly handsome. And despite her intense desires for the attention of men – well, young handsome men -- Marcella never felt any particular feelings for poor Pannonius. When he looked at her she never felt that special warm feeling building in her loins and spreading outward through her body. She never suddenly felt light-headed, flushed, or wobbly on her feet. She never felt her nipples tingle and become hard or her cunnus get wet as when she caught the intense, longing gazes of handsome young men in the forum or market. And she was most definitely not desirous of his large, hairy hands touching her most intimate of places. Quite the opposite: the thought of him touching her intimately repelled her. At night, in her bed, with her legs bent and spread and night clothes pulled over her hips, her hands pressed into her lush, soft pubic hair, and her fingers probing her wet cleft, the image of the young man she saw between her thighs making passionate love to her was never the balding Pannonius! She never whispered his name as she squeezed and rubbed her sensitive, tumescent nipples and stroked her clitoris to slowly bring her body to a breathless, heart-pounding orgasm.
Though she shared a room with Thessela, Marcella never believed her younger sister was aware of her late-night activities. How surprised she was when, one night, Thessela couldn’t stop giggling listening to Marcella’s soft moans and groans as she climaxed. It turns out Thessela was quite practiced at pleasuring herself after Marcella drifted off to sleep. The little minx, thinks Marcella! Marcella was at first humiliated at being found out, but later the girls merely grinned as they listened to each other’s late-night libidinous play. Thessela, it seems, like Marcella, is a young woman of great passions.
Ah, passion does indeed beat in the breast of every young woman. But therein lurks danger too.
Marcella's Dangerous Liaison
Prologue to Part 1
Marcella is a young woman of 19 years living in the city of Salona, the capital of the Roman province of Dalmatia. Dalmatia is across the Adriatic Sea from Italy, and as such is one of Rome’s oldest and most Romanized provinces. Salona is a very cosmopolitan city with a diverse mixture of ethnicities. Marcella’s family includes her father, Tirgar, her mother, Elira, and her younger sister Thessela. Marcella is a tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed, olive-skinned beauty as befits her father’s darker-skinned Thracian-Persian ancestry mixed with her mother’s native Illyrian blood. Illyrians, though an admittedly diverse group of peoples, were generally known as a tall and warlike. They may have been conquered by the Romans several centuries ago, but their stern, often domineering physical appearance made you believe they did not consider themselves conquered. Her father’s stock were hardly peaceful peoples themselves. Thracians have their own well-deserved reputation for bloodthirstiness. Marcella’s own willfulness and sometime heedlessly reckless nature and quick temper could fairly be said to have been inherited from both parents.
In Marcella and Thessela their parents’ traits blended to produce young women of exceptional bearing, appearance and intelligence, though with a tendency for rash behavior. Marcella matured from a skinny, gawky girl to a tall, exotically-beautiful young woman, slender and perfectly proportioned in build, with large, full breasts. Thessela, at 17 years, is blossoming into a tall, willowy beauty. She, too, is olive-skinned after her father, and with her mother’s imposing height she is even taller than Marcella.
Blessed with the good looks that most women can only dream of having, Marcella displays a devastating sensuality that never fails to turn a man’s head. Marcella is well-aware of her beauty and the effect it has on men. She is cheerful, flirtatious and teasing by nature, but perhaps has not yet learned that a woman should behave demurely in public, for her own protection and to avoid giving the wrong signals. But she is young and strong-willed and given somewhat to excessive pride in what gifts nature has fortuitously bestowed on her. Though of common birth her family is well-known and successful in the trade of fine textiles. This allowed Marcella to grow up comfortably, if not in ostentatious wealth. Not growing up in grinding poverty gives Marcella options in life many young women do not have. She often thinks about what sort of husband she would someday have. Would her father – whom she loves very much – simply arrange a marriage for her, or would he allow her to find the man of her dreams, such as that is possible for a girl of common, though hardly lowly, birth. Her parents never had any sons to take over the family business, so they were hoping for a good marriage for their daughter. A capable, reliable son-in-law could run the family business ensuring its success into the future. Then, if Marcella produced a son, there would be a male heir.
So, her parents’ plan for Marcella was to marry and produce a son. She was not, however, the daughter on whom this responsibility was supposed to fall. Marcella had an older sister, Barbara, who, several years ago, had run off with a handsome, roguish young man who later was found out to be a member of a rebel group that was actively opposing Roman rule in the mountainous regions further inland from Salona. When Rome sent an expeditionary force to root out the rebels everyone knew what would be the outcome. Indeed, the Roman army was ruthlessly effective in destroying the rebel force. Many captives were taken and were subsequently crucified along the roads leading into Salona. Neither Marcella nor her parents knew for certain the fate of Barbara. They preferred not to think about what horrible consequences her rash behavior might have caused her. Far better to think of her as alive somewhere in the mountains than having died nailed to a Roman cross, sold into slavery, or forced to serve as a barracks whore.
Her parents’ well-meaning plans that she marry a solid, respectable young man within her class never appealed to Marcella. She was a romantic and did not want to merely marry a bookkeeper or a shopkeeper. She wanted her husband to be dashing and handsome and anything but what her parents wanted for her. But where were such men? Salona is a comfortable city full of comfortable people – but nothing exciting! Marcella craved excitement in her life – and love. She was always falling in an and out of love. But men were so disappointing! They never seemed to bear up well under closer scrutiny. Though Marcella loved men – well, maybe at least the idea of men – she was not foolish enough to casually give up her precious virginity. No, she knew what a gift a woman’s virginity is: something that can only be given once. So Marcella became very adept at teasing and flirting with men at a rather young age. She might let a hand wander a bit over her every now and then, but she had definite boundaries when it came to male behavior. The only object between her legs now would be her own hand. As much as she ached and longed for a lover and husband, she was sensible enough to know at the right time the right man would present himself. She would know it for sure because she would fall helplessly in love in a way she never experienced before. But until that time she would never dishonor her parents. Barbara had done that and it had caused them great anguish. Marcella would be the good daughter – at least until her true love came around. But how would she know? Her nubile body was suffused with the sexual desires so intense in the young. Around her parents, she projected an air of disdain for the young men of her social class. They came from good families but were in the trades, hardly the class to produce the kind of young man Marcella pined for.
One such young man – her parent’s preference for her to marry – named Pannonius, was the son of another well-to-do merchant. The pair were well-matched socially, though Pannonius was nearly a decade older than Marcella. In fact, he had been a possible match for Barbara before she ran off with her doomed revolutionary. Pannonius, alas, despite his obvious intelligence, pleasant nature and genuine fondness for Marcella, was not particularly handsome. And despite her intense desires for the attention of men – well, young handsome men -- Marcella never felt any particular feelings for poor Pannonius. When he looked at her she never felt that special warm feeling building in her loins and spreading outward through her body. She never suddenly felt light-headed, flushed, or wobbly on her feet. She never felt her nipples tingle and become hard or her cunnus get wet as when she caught the intense, longing gazes of handsome young men in the forum or market. And she was most definitely not desirous of his large, hairy hands touching her most intimate of places. Quite the opposite: the thought of him touching her intimately repelled her. At night, in her bed, with her legs bent and spread and night clothes pulled over her hips, her hands pressed into her lush, soft pubic hair, and her fingers probing her wet cleft, the image of the young man she saw between her thighs making passionate love to her was never the balding Pannonius! She never whispered his name as she squeezed and rubbed her sensitive, tumescent nipples and stroked her clitoris to slowly bring her body to a breathless, heart-pounding orgasm.
Though she shared a room with Thessela, Marcella never believed her younger sister was aware of her late-night activities. How surprised she was when, one night, Thessela couldn’t stop giggling listening to Marcella’s soft moans and groans as she climaxed. It turns out Thessela was quite practiced at pleasuring herself after Marcella drifted off to sleep. The little minx, thinks Marcella! Marcella was at first humiliated at being found out, but later the girls merely grinned as they listened to each other’s late-night libidinous play. Thessela, it seems, like Marcella, is a young woman of great passions.
Ah, passion does indeed beat in the breast of every young woman. But therein lurks danger too.
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. I'll let Marcella take her time while I think of more devious things to do with these Criminals
. So as long as I am alive and not over stressed I will work on "Dangerous Liaison" the second part gets to real hardcore stuff and would include other crux forum members.