Lucius had known, after running into Briseis at the temple, that she would be delivering the gown to his home that evening. Otherwise, she would had informed him to expect Titus. She had an open face, an inability to not express every emotion. He opened the door and smiled at the diminutive girl, only as tall as his shoulder, carrying a garment wrapped in linen in her arms.
"Well, you certainly came out late, Briseis! You must stay this evening, I will tell your Master that Appia insisted upon it. It wouldn't be safe for you to walk home at this hour." he nodded at the pitcher of wine, and a glass was poured for her. Another head motion, and they were sitting alone.
"I'm so sorry Master Junius, we had to finish some last minute beading work. She wanted those roses, it took Titus hours, while I finished the seaming. The women will all love it, of course!" She proudly showed him the amber silk dress, their beautiful handiwork spoke for itself, even though the roses were awfully tacky. Lucius cringed at the thought of his fat wife, with her ugly orange hair, trying to wear such a slinky silk dress. "Oh, I'm sure she'll love it," he said, quickly downing his wine with a look of sourness on his face. Briseis openly grinned. "Hopefully all the ladies will want similar styles, and Titus can save up some more money." "Yes, hopefully," droned Lucius, feigning interest in her brother. He snapped his fingers and a slave came to put away the garment, scurrying out of the room very quickly. Titus was not stupid; he was clearly saving up money for his freedman status when his Master passed away. "However, Appia's informed me she will be out tonight. Might I tell you another one of my stories while I get you a nicer wine, Briseis? The emperor sent me some wine tonight, and I wouldn't save it for some fat boring patricians. I'd much rather share it with you." She nodded, her eyes intense.
What an honor! Why would he share such a wine with her? Did he want something from her, some favor that he thought she could curry with her father? Perhaps his omen was auspicious, and he was just feeling generous?
She did not consider seduction. He saw her as a damaged slave. Even if she was pretty, she had overheard her father telling Lucius, in hushed tones, what had happened her. No man would try to impress her to fuck her. So she must be some other pawn in Lucius Junius's endless series of political machinations, however small of a pawn.
Lucius smiled at her furrowed brow, a clear sign that she was considering every one of his possible motives, but had been left wanting. A slave had tested the wine days ago. Lucius turned away as he poured it himself. He noticed with some amusement that he had picked up a goblet depicting Fortuna. They both worshipped her as their primary goddess, like many members of the Junius family. Since she was Sulla's rumored great great granddaughter, she was probably a good luck charm on her own. He couldn't help but smile.
Briseis sat up like a perfect Roman matron, her eyes transfixed on him as he brought her the beautiful gold goblet. He was looking down at her with his almost black eyes, haunting. "You know; my wife is fucking a gladiator right now. The beautiful Crecens, the net fighter."
She was horrified, but replied solemnly with her first thought, "I don't think Crecens is beautiful, Master Junius." She pretended to sniff the wine with a degree of knowledge, before taking a deep gulp. It was so sweet, and so good. Lucius noticed that the white film at the top of her goblet was now gone. He had to time himself carefully now.
He laughed, surprising her with his easy demeanor. "I'm not surprised. You're not the type of girl to think that way about a mere gladiator? You seem like the type who'd want to
mentally
sparred with on a daily basis. Anyway, I used to love Appia. She was pretty. Not as pretty as you. But pretty enough, still." Briseis was even more horrified but also confused. Her cheeks felt hot. "Then I caught her fucking a slave on my bed, and before I knew it, she was fucking, and eating, everything in sight. It's quite embarrassing, really. I really despise her." She knew it was true, but didn't know why he'd be confessing this to a mere slave. Appia was a horrible, vulgar woman. Her master Marcus Junius had picked her out for Master Lucius Junius due to her enormous wealth, but Appia was a terrible wife. The slaves traded vicious rumors about her. Why had he mentioned that she was pretty? "I'm so sorry to hear, that, Master Junius." She felt like she was fading a bit, losing a tiny bit of consciousness. But how, and why? Her brain hardly could register anything as the beautiful goblet fell from her hand. She wanted to apologize for her clumsiness, but then she passed out.
Lucius looked over, curiously, at the girl. The milk of the poppy that his wife added to her wine, seemed to affect this slight creature in just the desired manner. She was slumped upwards in some absurd sleeping variation of a ladylike pose, but seemed to otherwise be motionless. However, on a half dose, her breathing was still soft and steady, and her heart was beating only a tad slower. Lucius picked her up. Briseis weighed even less than he expected, he thought, softly depositing her face down on his cubiculum bed. The slave looked even more lovely as he started to remove her stola. She moaned, probably a result of the drug's euphoria, but otherwise stayed soundly asleep. But he had to be quick, before the drug wore off, and he used his dinner knife to literally cut off her matronly undergarment of linen and hemp. He quickly used the strips to tie her arms behind her naked back, marveling at her soft, white skin. Lucius Junius then pulled her legs so she was positioned at the edge of the bed, tied each ankle to a bed leg, and sat back and enjoyed the view, waiting for her to come back to humanity shortly. Then the fun would really begin. He removed his toga quickly and inspected her more thoroughly, his cock already responding to her nudity, and the thought that he could do anything to her now.
Her flower was soft pink, with slightly plump lips. They'd be much plumper soon, he thought. Stroking her cunni, he was not surprised to hear her moan in pleasure again, in her delirium, perhaps half awake. He couldn't help but lean down and taste her. Roman men were not supposed to orally pleasure anyone else. It was the ultimate taboo. But she tasted as sweet and young as he imagined, her cunni now soaking wet from his attention. Lucius realized his erection was getting very painful, taking a moment to stroke his thick, veiny cock, as huge as the rest of him. Perhaps this plan had not been his most thought out. Perhaps he could start using her while she was in her stupor? But he really wanted her awake. He stroked her hair, surprised by how lovely the rest of her slender body was under those matronly clothes, although he had always enjoyed the sight of her soft ass shaking a bit while she walked. Maybe he'd enjoy that first, although he'd take care to ensure she enjoyed herself too, despite her initial protest...
"Master Lucius Junius, what are you doing?" Groggily said Briseis, suddenly aware of her nudity, and then the fact that her future Master was alternating between touching her and... licking her? Her stomach was flipping upside down. She tried to move, but her lower half seemed to be tied to something. Her hands were behind her back, and just tied to each other. It was humiliating and painful.
"What do you think I'm doing, silly girl," he said, harshly. Like a Master would normally talk to a normal slave. Not like he'd been talking to her when they had been drinking the wine.
Oh dear, the wine!
Whatever was causing this feeling was from the wine. He had put something in her drink. "I'm not a monster, I wouldn't put my cock in you without getting you wet first. And you are getting so nice, and wet. I had to taste." Did he lick his finger? She felt faint, still drugged and a bit tipsy as well. His intentions were clear, even in her stupor. She was so terrified, and she couldn't even fight him, his massive body holding her even more fast than her binds.
