War Booty
Copyright© 2025 by CreepyUnclePete
Chapter 1
Historical Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A heroic officer in the Roman Empire is rewarded with several beautiful young slaves. Includes some supernatural/religious elements and some sex scenes, but is mainly a historical drama.
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Ma/Ma Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Rape Slavery BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Historical Military War Magic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father BDSM MaleDom Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male Black Female White Male White Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Voyeurism Prostitution Violence Illustrated
Caledonia (Northumbria, England) 205 CE
My name is Titus Cenius Argentus, but Titus is quite a common name. Everyone calls me “Cenius.” In Latin the letter C is always hard, so the modern pronunciation would be “Ken-ee-us.” As an Equitus, one of the Equis, the social class well-off enough to own a horse or horses, I had a good early life. Father and his ‘Lictor’, or deputy, taught me horsemanship, mathematics, government, and warfare. I was an eager pupil, and especially enjoyed studying the brilliant works of Emperor Augustus. Not only was he a skillful politician, successful ‘Legatus’ or General, and eventually Emperor; somehow Augustus found time to write over twenty excellent books.
Father wanted me to marry Veria Adlana, a merchant’s niece, whose late husband had been a Senator. She was also great-great-granddaughter to Julius Caesar’s rival, Pompey the Great! I was lucky Father gave me any say in the matter. Most young people had no choice once their father decided on a match. For several days he told me how great a pairing it was, and how lucky we were such a rich family was interested.
As her dowry, the merchant uncle would have a jetty and a second pier constructed in our harbor; along with building a warehouse, roofed market, and an inn on our land. He would also train me to take over part of his thriving business. Father invited them to a banquet at our home, and repeatedly encouraged me to accept. They brought along a very good cook, a couple of singers, and four musicians. Everyone enjoyed the musical evening. Most danced, drank plenty of wine, and stuffed themselves with wonderful food.
At the end of the banquet I met my intended, an ugly widow of thirty-seven, with nine children! I was only half her age, and thoroughly horrified! I politely called Father into another room and vented my extreme disappointment. He kept trying to pressure me, but I refused. He sent me to my chamber, and gave our visitors a very embarrassed apology.
One day I visited the nearby island of Scopelos with Father to watch him negotiate a trade deal, their lobsters and clams for our cod and sea bass. The Patrician’s home was several rooms larger than ours, which seemed fair, since their island was twice the size. As we walked there from the pier, a vision of loveliness beckoned me.
The Patrician’s granddaughter Lyria was sweaty, stomping up and down in a huge wooden vat, helping the other village girls crush grapes with their bare feet to start the winemaking process. Apparently, she was the only one whose family could afford dyed clothing, simple as her green wool tunic was. I was wearing my best outfit, new sandals, an almost-white cloth toga with a red stripe border, and a gray cloak striped with red.
She stopped crushing grapes a moment, to wipe her little brother Colius’ nose with a cloth. The ill little boy repelled me a bit; but her long and shiny dark hair, lovely face, and the shape of her chest were SO APPEALING! I wanted her as my wife the moment I saw her! Father reluctantly consented, since I gave up on my fling with baker’s daughter Nevra. At least my wife’s family were Equis, like us. Father was quite disappointed her dowry was only a dozen goats, a horse, and thirty amphorae of wine. As a lusty young man, I couldn’t have cared less about that.
Her mother gave Lyria an intricately decorated reddish brass circlet chain, made in Egypt, which adorned her forehead on our wedding day. My own mother was embarrassed her gift to Lyria was also a circlet, but silver with leaf-shaped adornments. Circlets could only be worn by married women of Equis class or above, and my smiling bride was happy to wear both at the same time.
Lyria once joked she would only love me if I could be “Centenary Cenius”, by making love to her a hundred times in a season, ninety-one days. She was so alluring, it was easy for me to exceed that by a good margin! Our matrimonial banquet, wedding ceremony, and the glorious night of passion which followed was the best day of my life; at least to that point. I pleasured her to ecstasy over and over, as she got me off six times! Oh, to be young again!
Tragically, our first child was a stillborn boy. Our most recent was a lovely tiny girl, who succumbed to sickness at only a month old. They made us very grateful for the three healthy sons we still had. Sadly, many families endured worse. Of my father’s seven siblings who were born alive, and Mother’s five, only four of them lived long enough to see their grandchildren. I had a lone sister and lost two brothers before they were old enough to walk. Of a thousand and a half people on our island, my great-aunt Sarella was the oldest at nearly seventy on my wedding day. Thankfully, she survived three more years and gave us plenty of good advice.
I left to join the army a week after I turned twenty-two. Lyria stayed home to look after our family and our town, Balit, on the isle of Sciathos. To please the Gods and protect my town and family from their wrath, I prayed daily and sacrificed to the Gods weekly. I was a rare man who fully honored his marriage vows.
I was the sole occupant of my bed for a year and a half, since I left my beloved family and home. My fierce but loyal dog Tyranus was my only source of affection. Oh, how I longed for my pretty wife! How I wished to hug my boys and see them smile!
In a few months, I’d go on debauch and leave the army for the winter. I would finally see them again! Hold them again! Penetrate and hopefully impregnate my gorgeous mate again!
I glanced at the law scrolls on a table. I knew the law well enough. When it was time for me to go, I’d leave the scrolls for the officer who would replace me. Some of the soldiers complained the laws about slaves, family, and sex were too restrictive, but I thought just the opposite.
Using lower class youngsters inappropriately only incurred a modest fine, and only if it caused injury or a parent objected. If their clothing was marked with purple stripes or symbols, indicating they were Purpurei, wealthy upper class, doing the same was a major crime; punished by enslavement or even crucifixion.
When walking around Rome, you might see various couples having a quick rendezvous in alleys or other partly concealed areas three or four times in a day. In some of the seedier areas, especially near the army barracks and the docks, sometimes ‘Porni’, the lowest class of prostitutes, would perform sex acts on a public street. Most of them were widows or former slaves with no other option. Their customer would lean on a wall and the porni would squat to lick and suck him, often with crowds watching. Other times, they would lean over a table or bench and rut in public, like animals. If the law could watch or get a free sample, the porni were usually left alone. In the temples of Venus or Faunus Pan, well, they were less restrictive yet.
Poor ‘Lupae’ whores would fuck anybody for money, too, but usually in brothels or their home. Most orphan girls who were old enough became lupae, unless they were pretty enough to be a ‘Meretrice’, who were more attractive and expensive. A meretrice could pick and choose which men she serviced, and for three times the price, or more.
Many men dreamed of bedding an Amicae courtesan, who were all gorgeous and highly skilled at pleasure. Even Legates and Senators only used them occasionally, for a handful of gold, instead of a few bronze or silver coins. For the cost of a single night with one, you could buy an average slave girl and use her for years.
Technically, under Roman law, a man owned his wife and children the way he owned his cattle or slaves. I thought it beastly and inhumane that many men treated theirs no better than farm animals. A handful of sons in every hundred were sold into slavery, and a fifth of all daughters were bought by ugly or much older husbands, due to family financial difficulties.
Many, many brides were virgins but excellent at oral sex by their wedding night, thanks to lessons from their fathers or older brothers. Lyria was no exception, and sucked me nearly any night she didn’t feel like mating.
I traveled with four of my six male slaves, and five slave women stayed and helped my wife at home. The year before I left for the Legion, my wife and I had the prettiest of our slave girls, Luzi, give us oral sex occasionally, or even substitute for her. Well, oral on both of us a few times a month, plus a few a week with just me.
I was sure it wouldn’t offend the Gods, since my wife consented and liked to watch. I rewarded Luzi with a few coins each time, and gave her a nice blanket and small but comfortable bed across the room from ours. I could have forced her, I owned her and had every right, but was kind and gently traded Luzi’s virginity for allowing her to marry Temet, a male slave she fancied. We considered Temet’s feelings, and only had sex with her when he was out of the house.
I was more generous than a lot of masters. Over the eight years my family owned them, my two oldest male slaves, brothers Cuth and Doke, saved nearly enough to buy their freedom. They had a plan to go back to Persia and sell ‘exotic’ Celtic and Roman foods there. Cuth was a skilled skinner and butcher, and Doke was a good cook. I thought they would do well. The upper officers and I were happy they made most of our meals, instead of the army cooks.
My younger slaves Poz and Menak used a lot of their money for sweets and wine. Poz was unskilled but quite strong, a good laborer. Menak had medium brown skin, and his mother’s complexion had been even darker. I was told she came from a remote Egyptian province called ‘Sudan’. My other three slaves were only a touch darker than myself, being from western Persia.
My father bought Menak’s mother, Nyma, when I was a baby. She was a laundress and did a good job keeping our family’s clothes clean. Most nights after supper, mother taught my younger sister Elliah, Menak, and I languages, as the laundress spent a long time helping father change clothes so she could wash them in the morning.
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