Author's Note:
This story is highly inspired by "Laelia" by digital_bath. All credit goes to them for creating the setting and idea of a Roman slave girl, and I highly recommend reading their story! I have created similar characters, but this my own take on this idea. Enjoy!
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I couldn't help but let a deep sigh escape me as I poured yet another pitcher full of boiling water into the marble lined bath. It had already taken me several days to clean and prepare the estate, let alone fill the bath right on time for Master Marcella's homecoming. Steam rose in wisps as I quickly added a few drops of lavender oil and scattered freshly picked rose petals and citrus peels across the surface of the water. I wiped my brow with my arm, sweat beading across my pale skin as the heat of the bath filled the entire room. Glancing around the thick, dark red and gold curtains that covered the entrance, and the shining, clear white marble tiles and seating that adorned the space, I still saw no sign of him.
Master Marcella should be coming any minute now. I thought to myself.
My breath caught in my throat and my hands began to shake in both fear and anticipation. I stood and quickly smoothed the cream-colored fabric of my dress, adjusting the neckline so that the loose fabric revealed more of my generous cleavage, just how he liked it. With expert fingers, I teased my hair loose from its usual tight braid, letting my waist-length auburn waves brush my back.
And there I kneeled on a cushion next to the bath, inhaled the aromatic steam, and waited for my Master to arrive.
Suddenly, the curtain flung open and there he was: Master Titus Marcella, Lord over the Marcella estate, the first-born of the Marcella family, and the owner of my life.
My eyes drew in his appearance slowly, my heart beat rapidly increasing as I shallowly breathed in his masculine scent. He smelled of dust and sweat, and something else that made my deepest areas begin to respond in desire.
Master Marcella was returning from several weeks of debating in the Roman senate where he worked, a grueling time of constant argument, political manipulations, and endless decision-making. His thick, dark brows were still furrowed with the stress of his work, even now as he disrobed to enter the bath.
As his garments fell off his body, I could see that he was still as brawny as ever. A fighter in his youth, Master Marcella's back and shoulders still rippled with muscle, even though he was already well past 30 years. My eyes traveled down to his trimmed waist, appreciating the glorious sight of his tight buttocks and thick thighs. I could feel moisture begin to gather between my legs as my body naturally responded to such a specimen of a man.
As he approached the bath, I shifted my eyes down, staring at the white stone floor in submission and politeness. He hadn't spoken a word to me or even acknowledged my presence since entering the room, but I knew he was toying with me, letting me wait for his attention.
It was working. I was finding it harder and harder to breathe steadily, and it wasn't just due to the hot, steamy air that now wafted all around us.
I heard rather than saw Master Marcella slip into the bath. A deep exhale left his body as one muscled arm reached out to me through the curtain of steam. I took this as my signal to begin my duties.
I grasped his large, masculine hand in both of my soft, small ones and began to scrub it gently with a brush, cleaning his fingernails and the skin of his hands and wrist. I switched to his other hand, and lifted up one heavy leg at a time to scrub his feet as well. I worked in silence, sneaking glances at my master, whose eyes remained closed, hiding his piercing, intimidating gaze from me.
I didn't question his choice to relax or even sleep in the bath, but the silence was growing uncomfortable. Continuing my washings, I next grabbed a small pitcher of shampoo, pouring a bit onto my hands, then massaging it into his thick black hair. My nimble fingers worked its way around his scalp, stopping to press small circles into his temples. Still, my master made no sound and no response to my touch. How disappointing.
I finished rinsing his hair and began to wash the rest of his body. I usually did so with a washcloth, but I was growing impatient. Why wouldn't he acknowledge me?
I grabbed a small jar of our most fragrant soap, laced with rich olive oil. And with this, I began to massage the back of his neck, my thumbs pressing into every knot, every stress, and every burden he carried on his shoulders. My hands wandered over to the front of his chest, lightly teasing my fingers across his collar, before traveling down to his broad pecs. I almost touched his nipples before suddenly, Master Marcella grabbed my hands and yanked me down.
"Ah!" I yelped, almost falling into the bath myself. My breasts pressed against his wet back and my cheek brushed the rough stubble of his chin.
"Hasty, aren't we, Cassia?" Master Marcella rumbled softly. Even his deep, velvety voice made my loins throb faster. My face though, simply turned pink and hot with embarrassment. I said nothing.
"Do you forget who's the master here?" Master Marcella questioned, lifting an eyebrow. Again, I said nothing and Master kept me in that prone position and in silence, several moments longer. With my head bent over his shoulder and my hands still grasped against his chest, I couldn't see his face, and had no idea what he was about to do. But, through the steaming water of the bath, I spotted his cock. It was standing upright, clearly hard, and aroused. A smile spread across my face.
Lips brushed the sensitive skin under my throat. I stiffened in surprise.
"Do you resist me, girl?" My Master growled. Before I could respond in protest, Master Marcella flipped me onto my back on the wet tile next to the bath, and devoured my mouth. He thrust his tongue in, kissing me as if he was starving. Water from his hefty body dripped onto my now soaking dress, and I could feel the heat from his skin as he half lifted himself out of the bath and towered over my very prone body.
His lips crushed mine, but I loved it. My soft mouth responded to him immediately, opening my jaws wide for him to taste me, pushing my lips against his as we continued the violent kissing.
Abruptly, Master Marcella broke the kiss and stood up, leaving me breathless.
"Come in and finish the washing." He commanded, turning his back to me. Quickly, I slipped into the hot water, clothes and all, and took the same fragrant soap and washed all over his back. My hands scrubbed every inch of skin clean, savoring the feel of the tight muscle on his buttocks and legs too. I glided through the water, now washing his waist, and belly, and finally, my hands arrived at his cock. I reached for the soap, but Master Marcella grabbed my wrist.
"Wash me with your mouth." He commanded. I had only done this for my Master a few times, and every time I couldn't help choking and gagging on his thick, long cock. Gingerly, I wrapped my right hand around the length of his member, feeling how hard it was, and the many veins bulging out of it. He was very aroused and that only made me want to please him more.
I licked the tip of his member, tasting the sweet liquid seeping out. I continued to lick my way around the head, "cleaning" it as best as I could with my tongue. I flicked my eyes up, looking at his face. My master had his head tilted back and eyes closed, clearly enjoying the feeling of my wet, hot tongue on his cock. Breathing an internal sigh of relief, I continued my slow licks, and began to stroke his length with my soft hand as well.
Suddenly, I felt his heavy hand push against the back of my head.
"Open wide." He spit out. I barely had time to react before Master Marcella shoved my face onto his cock, my throat forced open by his girth. Tears spilled out of my eyes from the exertion and I held onto his waist as my master rhythmically thrust himself down my gullet over and over. Saliva pooled at the sides of my mouth, dripping out and covering his cock with slickness as he began to slide in and out of my jaws with more ease. I tried to relax as best I could, and added my own sucking as he pumped down my throat. With a loud groan, he pulled his cock out of my mouth, held it with both hands, and shot his seed all over my face and chest.
"Haha!" he chuckled with delight, "Taste me, slave. Enjoy the taste of your Master's seed." I kept my eyes down and complied, lifting my bosom so that I could lick the cum off my cleavage. I dared not look at his expression as I did so, making sure I was being submissive as he liked me to act.
"Mmmmhmm," He hummed a sound of approval, and I could feel his satisfied gaze as I savored the taste of his seed on my tongue.
Promptly, Master Marcella stepped out of the bath. I leapt out as well, scrambling to grab clean linens, wiping the last of his seed off my face while rushing to dry off his wet body. Within moments, I finished this task and my master pushed open the curtains at the entrance and immediately made himself comfortable in the lounge area of his bedroom. He didn't bother to put on clothes.
Cheese, bread, wine, and fruits laid strewn across the low table, a rich assortment of food I had specially prepared for him. He reclined against the soft velvet cushions, eating and drinking his fill. I knelt on a cushion an arms length away, quietly drying off my hair and body as best as I could, eyes cast down.
With a gulp of wine, he demanded, "Cassia! Come over and continue your massage."
Immediately, I got up and chose another jar of fragrant olive oil from his dresser, and poured a small amount onto my palms. Situating myself behind him, I squeezed and kneaded his knotted shoulders and neck once more, trying my best to undo all the strain of the past few weeks.
