Chapter Text
Finally! The meal is finished. You thought you’d never end preparing the different dishes for the master’s return, but with an extra effort from the four of you, you did it. You had barely slept these last two days, and all you wish now is a long night of repairing sleep. Not that you’re going to enjoy it today, though.
The master’s arrival after rejecting the Tarquins will bring an overload of people around the house, with all the extra work it implies. And both he and his mother don’t tolerate failures. You cannot say they are nice masters. They are really strict, but they don’t mess with us unless it's necessary. If you do your duty as requested, you won’t have any troubles. And the master spends so much time fighting and exercising, that he’s barely home, so there are little chances of upsetting him.
“Flavia! Your help is needed. The master has arrived, and he’s injured. Mistress Volumnia requires you to take care of his wounds.”
You took the box with the clean linen, the balms and herbs, asked Petronius to bring some clean water and you flew to the master’s room.
You acquired some medical knowledge during the years you served a Greek doctor in Antium, and that has gained you a reputation in master Martius’ house. Many a time you’ve helped him healing his fighting wounds and minimizing the scars. You know mistress Volumnia doesn’t like that at all, but as long as you are taking care of those wounds, you won’t let those ugly scars spoil him.
You entered the room, and found him unconscious, already in bed. His mother was counting every wound, proud of each and every one of them, admiring in ecstasy the oak-leaf crown he had won. Sometimes you wonder if she loves his scars more than she loves him.
You cleared your throat to let her know you’re there.
“Ah, Flavia, you’re there. Come in.”
“How is he? What can I do, mistress?”
“The surgeon already examined him at the camp. He thinks he’ll survive, but he has an injury in the neck and two more in the left thigh. He’s very weak after the blood loss, and the surgeon ordered to check his injuries twice a day. Of course you’ll be relieved of any other duty until he’s recovered. I’ll leave you now. If you need something, you know what to do.”
You nodded silently, and turned towards him.
You approached the bed carefully, and looked at him. He was so pale and looked so fragile… You had never seen him like this. You let Petronius enter the room with the fresh water, and he run off from the room as fast as he could. He did not want to face the master’s fury again. So, you were left alone in the room.
First of all, you had to undress him. Those filthy clothes won’t help healing. You cut off the tunic, carefully unsticking it from the wounds, and started cleaning him, to locate the injuries. You took a piece of clean cloth, soaked it in fresh water, and carefully brushed his forehead, moving through his nose, and his cheeks. You cleaned his lips, remembering the first time he kissed you. He wasn’t gentle at all, but he stirred something inside you. After that, he started fucking you every time he returned from a training. He arrived excited, aroused, full of lust, after defeating every opponent, and he used you as his release. You really liked it. Furious, raw sex that left you shaking for hours.
You returned to the present, and kept cleaning his neck, and chest. You lingered there, admiring his broad chest, rubbing it tenderly and checking for hidden injuries. You rinsed the cloth, and proceeded to clean his abdomen, losing yourself in the thin trail of hair, and the shape of his muscles. You finished cleaning his long legs, did your best cleaning his back, and then untied the belt to remove his loincloth. You admired him, naked, so beautiful, so quiet, so unlike him that your belly tightened, and hurt, and a lonely tear fell from your eye.
You carefully uncovered the neck’s injury. It didn’t look good. You didn’t know what that surgeon did, but certainly he did not take care of it. You picked a new cloth and cleaned it carefully. You poured some vinegar over it, took a dose of the balm and applied it over the wound before covering it with a new bandage. He stirred slightly, but not as he should. The vinegar should sting a lot, and he barely protested. That was not a good sign.
You went to the wounds of his left thigh, uncovering them. One of them was very deep. He must have bled a lot. The other one looked better. You cleaned them again with vinegar, applied more balm on the deep one, and some honey on the lighter one. You bandaged them, and covered him with a new tunic. Now you can only wait, and pray.
You brought the dirty water and clothes to the laundry room, and returned to the room as soon as you could with more fresh clean water, some wine and a piece of bread.
You sat by his side again, watching his chest move up and down with every breath; his breathing was heavier now, and he was stirring, mumbling things you couldn’t understand. His forehead was filling with small drops of sweat. You got your hand close to his face and felt the heat coming from it before you even touched it. He was boiling with fever.
You took the charm off your wrist, and gently tied it to his. You should bring it to the Temple of Febris at the Palatine, and ask the Goddess for his recovery. Meanwhile, you wiped the sweat from his forehead, poured a few drops of water on his dry lips and rubbed his body with a fresh damp cloth, to refresh him.
Finally he seemed to calm down a little, though he kept on speaking in his dreams. You were alone, and he was asleep, so you dared holding his hand, whishing you could do something more to ease him.
You were so tired after these last days work, that you leaned your head against the wall, and thought about him.
You remembered that first time, after a particularly long training session, when he defeated five of his opponents without getting even a bruise. You liked to watch him when you could. He was so brave, so fierce, so strong… He entered the house like a wild animal. You were finishing the cleaning of the last room, when he spotted you. You saw him coming towards you, his eyes darker than usual, breathing heavily. He took you by the waist and tossed you into the room.
“I saw you watching me before. Did you like it, woman?”
He grabbed your hair and leaned your head backwards while he pressed his body against yours. He kissed you, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, biting your lips, and your chin, and then your neck. You could feel his hardness between your legs and you could only think of having him inside you.
“I asked you if you liked what you saw.” You couldn’t even speak, so you nodded. He then slid his hand under your white woollen tunic, searching for your sex. He touched you, and felt your wetness. You blushed.
“I think you really liked it, you little whore. Let’s see if you like this, too.”
He turned you around and said: “Put your hands in the wall and don’t move.” You obeyed him, your sex throbbing with the anticipation of what was coming. He spread your legs with his feet, tore your tunic apart and untied his loincloth, rubbing his hardness against your sex. You let go a deep moan, and moved your hips to meet his erection.
“I said… don’t move.” You heard the sound of a slap, and then you felt it in your ass. You gasped, and felt it burning when he slapped you again, harder this time. You felt the tears falling from your face, and then you felt him entering you, in one hard thrust. The mixture of pain and pleasure was more than you could have imagined, and you moaned louder as he slapped you again, while he pushed harder inside you.
He grabbed your hair with one hand and kissed your neck, while he cupped your breast with his free hand. He kept pushing deeper, and harder, growling like an animal behind your ear, and you felt a wave of pleasure growing inside your legs. He kept thrusting, and suddenly everything became blurred, your legs were shaking and you could not breathe. Your sex was throbbing, and the wave was spreading through all your body. You cried in ecstasy, and then you felt him growling deeper and finishing his pleasure inside you. He lingered inside you until he recovered his breath, he put his clothes on, and left. You stood there, breathless, feeling your juices sliding through your thighs, wondering when he will exercise again.