CHAPTER ONE
ROME 60 A.D.
Screams came from the house of Marcus Tritonius—screams without words—screams of fear
and agony—screams that had no hope of rescue. They were the screams of a helpless animal
in pain.
A female animal.
Such screams were common in this place. Common enough for Marcus’ neighbours to shake
their heads and ignore the sounds.
“Scream again and I’ll beat you within an inch of your life!” Marcus held the golden
hair of his captive in a fist, glaring into her face. “Do you understand?”
The girl, sweating and frightened, nodded once.
“Good.” Marcus released his hold on her hair and returned to his task. “Now hold still
while I put this in position.”
The girl whined as the tip of the wooden butt-plug touched her ass—but refrained from
screaming. The muscles of her legs tensed as the man behind her pushed...
“Almost there.” Marcus shifted his grip on the dildo, pushed again. “Just another few
inches...”
The girl whined again, the muscles of her legs bunching up, straining against the
leather straps that held her in place.
“And...” Marcus used the flat of his hand to push the dildo in the last few inches,
nodding in satisfaction as finally slid into place. “There!”
The girl’s behind spasmed as she tried to expel the invader—but it was in too deep for
her to manage anything of the sort.
“Stop that!” Marcus slapped at her rear with his callused palm. “You keep that just
where it is until after the Emperor’s party.” He stepped to his workbench, picked up a
plume of horsehair. “Do you understand?” He glanced her way, noted the quick nod.
“Good.” He worked with the horsehair for a moment; fluffing it out, making sure it was
free of snags. “The Emperor wants something special...” He stepped back to the girl’s
side, slid the horsehair into the back end of the dildo fixed in the girl’s ass, locking
it in place with the tiny clip at the dildo’s base. “And you and your sisters are going
to deliver it.” He checked the security of the dildo one last time before nodding in
satisfaction and moving to undo the straps holding the girl in place. “If you try to
kick, I’ll have you whipped to death.”
The girl froze in place.
“Now, then.” He undid the last set of straps and pulled the girl upright, calling out
as he did so. “Municius!” He glanced toward the door. “Bring the others!”
There was a moment of silence, than Marcus heard a peculiar clip-clop on the hard floor
beyond. The door opened revealing his assistant and two other girls—each of them blonde,
beautiful, and identically bound.
“I can’t believe that Rufio actually found a set of yellow-haired triplets!” Municius
led the two girls into the large room. “I would have thought it impossible!”
“Nothing’s impossible when you have money.” Marcus pushed the third girl into place
alongside her sisters, than took a moment to run his eyes over the three.
All were taller than the average roman----all had long, golden blonde hair. Each had
been bound with their hands tightly behind them, elbows together. Oddly shaped shoes,
resembling the hooves of horses, had been fixed on each of their feet. Each had a ring
through their right nipple, with a bell attached.
And each sported a tail of horsehair sticking out of their plugged assholes.
“They look fine.” Marcus examined the ring in the right-hand girl’s breast. The flesh
had closed up around the bronze, leaving no sign of a wound. “Is the chariot ready?”
“It’s right outside.” The assistant—a short, muscular man, gestured to the storage room
beyond. “Do you want to harness them up right now?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. We’ll wait until we get to the emperor’s villa.” He
glanced outside, saw the sun already setting. “Give me a moment to change and we’ll be on
our way.” He stepped past the three girls, glancing at the upright tail each sported. “I
hope he appreciates what we’ve done here...”
Later, it became clear that the Emperor did—and his entourage—was very pleased with the
trio. He accepted Marcus’ offer to ride the specially-drawn chariot into the feasting
room—and revelled in the cheers and catcalls of the men in the room while ignoring the
silence of the women.
As the feast progressed, he fed the girls, tethered beside his couch, from his own
fingers. When the night was over, and the other guests were leaving, he had Marcus called
to his side and offered to buy the three slaves.
“Come, slave master.” He smiled at the taller man. “Surely you will sell them to your
emperor.”
“No, I will not.” Marcus kept his voice flat, his face expressionless, waited a second,
then: “But I will give them to your Excellency—as the gift of a grateful subject.”
The Emperor’s smile widened and he slapped the shoulder of the slaver. “I accept the
gift in the spirit in which it is given.” He crooked a finger at one of the numerous
guards who were standing quietly in dimly-lit parts of the room. “Take these to my
quarters.” He stroked the breast of the nearest blonde. “I may want to...” He glanced
at Marcus. “Play with them a bit before I retire.”
The guard nodded and took the reins that had been fixed in each girl’s mouth, leading
them away into the darkness of the Imperial Palace.
“Now, Marcus...” The Emperor looked into the slaver’s face. “You know, I could swear
I’ve met you before—years ago...” Claudius shook his head. “But it cannot be—too many
years have passed—and you’re far too young.”
“As you say, Excellency.” Marcus bowed. “I would surely remember being in your august
presence.”
“Yes.” Claudius stroked his chin. “I’m sure you would.” He stared at Marcus, his eyes
sharp, searching...
Then he turned away. “I must be mistaken. That man would be older even then me...” He
shook his head one more time. “My memory is playing tricks...” He turned back to Marcus,
his face softer. “Never allow yourself to grow old, my friend.” Claudius sighed. “Never
grow old.”
“I will do my best to take your Excellency’s advice.” Marcus’ shrug mirrored that of
Claudius. “But who can fight time?”
“Who indeed.” Claudius shook himself once, touching his forehead. “You are a wise man
Marcus Tritonius—a slave trader in a city full of slaves.” He smiled. “I bid you a good
night.” The Emperor smiled. “I have some new livestock to examine.” He turned and
headed into the interior. “And you have the thanks of an old man.”
The guards turned to follow him, closing the great bronze doors behind them. The clang
of their clasps rang through the room—and Marcus was alone.
That was a near thing, he thought. I didn’t think he’d remember our first meeting—he
was just a boy... Marcus remembered the legion outpost in Germania—and the youngster
visiting the General. I never thought he’d make an Emperor. Marcus shrugged and turned
and headed for the doors he had come in through. But he’s done pretty well. He smiled.
Better than Tiberius and Caligula at any rate.
Somewhere beyond the bronze doors, Marcus heard the squeal of a female. And I guess
he’s not that old after all.
He waved at the guard as he exited the palace.
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