These were the preliminaries which Gratius assured me were of the utmost importance, the toying foreplay, so necessary to assure that the smoldering excitement would build in both the seated master and the laid-out slave. And so I spent some time playing leisurely with the slave girl’s naked ass, letting my host set the pace. I watched as he slid his flattened hand up to rest it firmly on the small of Rhea’s back, pinning her in place. I did likewise, spreading my knees to better balance the long-bodied girl’s languid weight, placing a hand on her back to steady her. I saw Maya’s butt muscles clench tight as the fearful slave girl tensed up in anticipation, the sleek sides of her cheeks hollowing out, the dark channel squeezed to a narrow slit. She knew what was about to come!
Together, my host and I raised our right hands. At his nod, we struck.
“Whap! Whap!” two shots rang out almost simultaneously and two girls bounded up, kicking up their heels and yelping in startled reflex. Before she had time to recover, I struck again, whacking Maya’s bottom with crisp authority, using the flat of my hand to deliver a glancing blow that set her rearmounds jiggling. 1 heard the girl cry out; her legs swinging up behind, scissoring the air frantically. I smacked her bounding bottom merrily again and again, relishing the bouncy resiliency of her jiggling assmounds.
The girl jerked forward with each impact, her legs kicking wildly now, while she twisted and squirmed across my lap. 1 immediately clamped my left hand down even harder on the small of her back, pinning her solidly in place across my open thighs while I spanked her soundly, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her quivering mounds as they danced under my repeated slaps.
I walloped the trembling swells with grim determination, watching them redden under the unrelenting assault. Maya was yelping now, each sharp cry punctuated by the resounding echo of a crisp slap as I smacked the quivering, blushing bottom mercilessly.
For a while, she tried to deflect the blows by twisting her hips. When that didn’t work, she tried to steel herself by tightening her cowering cheeks in anticipation. But under my steady smacking, she soon realized the futility of trying to resist. In time, she simply went limp, allowing her butt muscles to slacken, yielding to the continual assault, accepting her spanking with passive resignation.
After several exciting minutes spent walloping the slave girl’s delectable bottom, my hand was tingling, throbbing with a dull ache which forced me to stop and rest. I used the pause to admire my handiwork. The flushed cheeks of Maya’s handsome bottom throbbed with a rosy hue. I couldn’t resist caressing that well-spanked behind, savoring the pleasant warmth I had generated in her burning rear-end A plaintive whimper came from the inverted head of my long-legged slave girl, and she squirmed her hips in a sensual wiggle, signaling to me that the heat she was feeling as a result of the spanking was not confined to her bottom.
Chapter Six. A Day At The Races
As you might well imagine from the preceding passages, my first summer at Bernesium was not altogether unpleasant. I spent many a leisurely day whiling away my hours there while enjoying the many delights of the house of Gratius. My official duties were hardly burdensome, although we were called upon increasingly to provide additional patrols to escort the passing caravans of slavers. It seems that a particularly nasty little war had erupted with the always-contentious Scythians, closing the normal trade routes so that the slavers were forced to divert their caravans through the mountains and past Bernesium. As a result, slave caravans began arriving in town, sometimes as many as two or three a week The slavers would set up camp on a grassy plain just on the edge of town. They would have arrived weary and content to spend a few days resting and refreshing themselves and their charges after the grueling march through the mountains.
The arrival of a fresh batch of slaves was always an occasion of excitement for the town. While their masters rested, the training of the slaves continued unabated, and this provided a unique show indeed! A crowd of townspeople would gather eagerly on those warm summer afternoons to watch the slaves being exercised, sweating and straining as they were put through their paces under the firm hand of their strict overseers. This interest was especially high if the lot were being trained as sex slaves, as was the case whenever Kimar’s caravans came to town, for this worthy always had the prettiest slaves, and they were inevitably exercised wearing nothing but their high collars and the wide leather straps that banded their wrists and ankles.
The training began early and was continuous throughout the march. The young women must learn many things in order to be able to serve properly. They must learn to be obedient, to meet any need that might be placed on them. They must learn the etiquette, posture, and deportment expected of a well-trained slave. They must be taught to adopt the proper pose for presentation: to stand at attention with hands behind their necks, to kneel in offering. They must be taught to walk properly, and to step lively. I often saw girls being put through their paces, forced to run in circles, knees raised high, heads thrown back, chins held high, as they raced around the arena, breasts jiggling and bouncing freely, much to the delight of the avid onlookers.
Races were run and various contests staged wherein the girls were said to learn the importance of discipline and teamwork though I suspected that the real reason for such games had more to do with the amusement of the slave drivers. I often stopped to watch these games, especially the “chariot races” that were staged with slave girls harnessed to the traces in teams. Of course, these were not the heavy war chariots found in the legions, but specially made lightweight traps, nothing more than a frame of saplings with two spoked wheels attached.
Teams of four or six girls were placed on hands and knees; harness straps laid upon their shoulders and belted to their hard young bodies. The chariot’s traces were then attached to the harnesses along their flanks. Smooth dowels of soft wood were placed between their teeth to serve as bits so that reins could be attached to steer. Since the onlookers liked to bet on the winners of these contests, one team was designated the “red” team; the other, the “blue.” The team colors were displayed by “tails” provided by the helpful slave drivers. These were plumes made of horsehair, dyed in vibrant colors, and sprouting from squat plugs at one end. The plug was oiled and inserted into a girl’s anus, the plume allowed to flop down over her bare bottom. I thought these “tails” a most delightful touch.
The team was now ready for the start of the race. But first, the drivers had to be chosen. For this task younger, slender, wiry girls were preferred. The drivers were given light switches which they used with considerable enthusiasm because the losers-drivers as well as teams-faced inevitable punishment once the race was over. So a simple flick of the light whip was all that was need to get them going, sending the naked slave girls scrambling over the grass, hips shifting and buttocks churning merrily as they crawled as fast as they could on hands and knees, pulling the little chariot behind them while the crowd cheered its favorites.