Note: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance of any characters to any persons, real or fictitious, is purely coincidental and unintentional.
Note 2: This work includes themes of a graphic sexual nature and involves person who, although entirely fictional, are all above the legal age of consent. This story is set in the slightly historical, but primarily imagined world of Ancient Rome, however, no offense is intended to any persons or cultures if I have mis-portrayed any historical, factual, or cultural aspects of the setting; the setting is used solely for its exotic and romantic attributes. If you find anything in this work objectionable or offensive, please move on to other content.
Note 3: This work is my own personal intellectual property. Copyright © 2017 Audrey07. All rights reserved.
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Chapter 3: The Wolf Queen
The following morning was a tense one in the house. The nocturnal antics of the three girls had kept not only Gaia, the head of the house, awake for half the night, but much of the rest of the staff as well. They were visibly irritable and their service was clearly forced. Ligeia and Athalia, themselves servants, noticed and felt the pangs of guilt. But not Cassia. She was used to being waited upon and she found the noticeable shortness of the staff to be contemptable. Cassia resented her imprisonment, comfortable and accommodating though it might appear on the surface, and making the servants suffer was her small rebellion.
They sat at a long wooden table just off the great hall eating a morning meal of fruits and artolaganus, a kind of bread made with milk and honey. Gaia and Cassia's father's manservant, who was serving as their bodyguard, sat with them, joining them in the morning meal. They ate in silence; Cassia sporting a petulant pout, and her two handmaidens ignoring Gaia's glare.
"Who is Sabine?" asked Cassia to Gaia.
Gaia raised one eyebrow. "Pardon me?"
"Sabine," repeated Cassia.
"Where did you hear that name," demanded Gaia.
Athalia and Ligeia shot each other nervous, guilty glances, but remained silent. "Yesterday, on the quay," Cassia lied nonchalantly. "I overheard a man cursing his servant for dropping a sack of goods. He said, 'May Sabine take you!'"
Gaia's eyebrow remained raised. "That," she said pausing, trying to gauge whether the girl was lying to her, "is just local superstitious nonsense," she finished flatly. "No concern of yours."
"It's no superstition," insisted the galley maid who had returned to freshen their cups. "My cousin was taken by Sabine. We've not seen him since. Dead we think, but..." She trailed off.
Gaia shot the woman a look of death and repeated, "It IS just local superstition. It is nonsense and you should just forget about it."
Cassia pleaded to Galley maid. "Please! Tell us about this Sabine. It is so boring here, even a little superstition would be entertaining!"
"Entertaining?" said the galley maid, looking aghast. "Entertaining??? You think human sacrifice and dark magic are entertaining? You think lying down with wild beasts is entertaining? You think eating the very children of..."
"ENOUGH!" demanded Gaia. But there was no stopping the galley maid, who had by now worked herself into a frenzy.
"Sabine is an evil witch! Her followers are all the dead, lifeless corpses of the poor souls lost in the sea. She gathers them in her cave, the cave of the grotta azzurra, every full moon and then sends them out over the island to capture the innocent and bring them back to her cave where they perform rituals and human sacrifices! You don't want to be out when the moon is up, deary, or Sabine will take you!"
The galley maid stopped and caught her breath. Gaia seized the opportunity to send her back to the galley. She recomposed herself and stated calmly, "As I said, superstition and foolishness. And in any event, it won't matter to YOU, because you will be in this house under curfew anyway." With that, she ended the conversation.
After the morning meal, Gaia sent the girls off with the manservant to the village. She didn't care what they did there, she just wanted all of them, and Cassia in particular, out of her hair, even if it would just be for a few hours. The house and its vineyards had been built by a successful shipping merchant, but he had died childless and the house had passed to his brother. His brother was a wastrel and a fool and openly criticized the emperor. When the emperor removed himself from Rome a few years before and set up residence on the Island of Capri, the brother wisely fled, abandoning the house. The Emperor, having been informed that its owner had been disloyal and was now a fugitive, seized the property for the empire. It was intended to be given as a reward to some loyal Senator or general, but none wanted a smallish estate on the remote island of little value and so it had been forgotten and relegated to the charge of one of the emperor's stewards. The steward, in turn, used the vineyard to keep the royal palace on Capri stocked with wine and offered the house for rent to visiting Senators and other dignitaries, allowing him to skim the rental payments for his own pocket.
The services of Gaia and her staff were included with the lease, and Gaia was generally left to manage the place on her own. She was a shrewd but effective manager and was well liked by her staff of servants. Technically, she and the household staff were slaves; property of the emperor. But beyond the title, they were generally left alone; slavery held no heavy yoke for her, and she had managed to amass enough coin to purchase her own freedom. She hadn't done so because that would mean being displaced from the house which, although small compared to the great mansions of Rome, was something of a grand dame here in remote Anacapri. The only way a free Gaia would have a house of her own would be to marry, and living with some fisherman or shop keeper in a cramped apartment down by the quay held zero appeal to Gaia.
Over the years, Gaia had seen her share of spoiled daughters of senators and wealthy merchants come and go. They were always the same: entitled and whiny and petulant. Cassia was no different and Gaia could not be rid of her soon enough. Gaia had to admit that the girl was pretty, and her handmaidens were each beautiful in their own way. That, Gaia thought, would be trouble. A trio like that was going to be attracting the wrong sort of attention from the men in town and she would no doubt have her hands full chasing off the tomcats who would soon be lurking around in the shadows, hoping for a chance to sneak off with one of the girls. Ugh. This was going to be a trying couple of weeks.
Meanwhile, in the village, Cassia was bored out of her mind. She had to admit that the island was breathtakingly beautiful, but there was nothing at all to do. The village was little more than a small collection of shops; shops which offered little variety. Wine and dried fish seemed to be the main staple of the food vendors and the rest of the shops seemed to be intended solely for trade between the wine merchants from the highlands and the fishing village below. There were few goods available from the mainland.
Even the public baths had been something of a disappointment; they were much smaller and nowhere near as ornate as the ones in the mainland cities. Fresh water was something of a precious commodity on the island, so there was only a single bathing pool and it was crowded with younger girls. Cassia's handmaidens barely had room to wash their domina, let alone attend to her properly. Ligeia attempted to stroke Cassia's pussy discretely under the water, but the splashing and crowding of the other bathers ruined Cassia's mood. They contented themselves by watching some of the younger girls play with each other's bodies while Athalia and Ligeia allowed Cassia to probe their anuses with her fingers.
The young girls were not yet adept at making love to one another. Their ministrations were more exploratory and experimental. One would touch the other and then pull away in a fit of bashful shame. They embraced, but didn't kiss. One sat on the edge of the pool and allowed her companion touch and stroke her pussy; a pussy that was barely covered with the first velvety hairs of adolescence. The girl gave her friend a tentative kiss on the tender spot below her friend's navel while casually running her fingers up and down the length of her young opening. But when she bent her head to kiss lower, the sitting girl became bashful again and snapped her legs shut. She slipped back into the water and her friend held her close, trying to reassure her. They were joined by several more young girls and a fit of squealing and giggling broke out as they each took turns trying out various touches and caresses on one another, sometimes teasing the ones who were overly shy, and sometimes egging them on to be more bold.
It reminded Cassia of her own younger days, playing and experimenting with Athalia. It was sweet to see these young girls just beginning to know their bodies. She wanted to watch them, awkward and clumsy, as they learned for themselves the art of pleasure, just as she herself had done. As they watched the scene, Cassia felt Athalia tighten and grip her finger with her rectal muscles. Cassia wondered if Athalia was thinking the same thoughts. She swirled her finger around inside the servant girl in a silent signal that her mood was becoming more receptive. But before it progressed any further, the group of young girls broke up their play. They'd had enough for one day and they all got up to leave the baths in unison. Once again, the mood was interrupted. Cassia withdrew her digits from her servants and kissed each of them on the back of the neck before she, too, withdrew from the bath.
By mid-afternoon, the girls found themselves in a dingy wine tavern. It had a solitary stone wall, likely the remnant of some earlier structure that had collapsed sometime in antiquity. It was covered with a garish painting of Bacchus being entertained by satyrs done in a crude, almost amateurish style. The rest of the tavern was made of wood and straw and looked as if a stiff breeze would erase all memory of the place in seconds. The ceiling was low and it reeked of oily smoke and the body odor of the many vineyard workers who gathered there in the middle part of the day to wait out the heat.