My Roman Conquest

MY ROMAN CONQUEST

Copyright © 2015 by Ashley Fox
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
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The virgin land of Albion stretched out below, green and wild, a tangle of dark forests and stretches of wildflower colour. It was unspoilt, primal - a world of new beginnings, free and proud. A bright summer sun shone high and clear in the sky above, bathing the two figures on the hill with warmth.

One was a woman, a mane of wild red hair framing a fierce and determined face. She had removed the clasp on her tunic, allowing it to fall to her waist, exposing round and pale breasts to the sun. The light gleamed on her milk-white skin, the succulent pink of her nipples the only hint of colour. The man at her side watched out of the corner of his eye as her chest rose and fell with her breath.

The man was strong and bearded, and he too was shirtless, exposing a muscled torso crossed with scars. His arms were thick knots of rounded muscle, and they gleamed with the fresh sweat the sun brought from his skin.

The woman, Barra, scowled as her emerald green eyes combed the wild lands below.

'The Romans mean to have this land for themselves,' she said, a fierce edge in her voice. 'They'll treat it like some maiden to pin to the ground and take with the force of a bull, focused only on their own pleasure. '

The man, Finn, favoured her with a slight smile.

'When you say it like that,' he said, 'It doesn't sound so bad.'

Barra frowned at her husband.

'They'll put the men in charge and the women in their place,' she said.

The man laughed.

'My fox,' he said, 'I have never seen a man put you in place.'

Barra turned suddenly, tackling Finn to the soft grass beneath them, and her weight was on top of him, their bare skin warm against each other, her breasts pressed against his torso.

'Believe they won't,' she said, grinning with sudden, wild lust.

She looked into his eyes with fierce want, the sun making her hot and ready, and the thought of the fight ahead brought fire to her blood. From her place on top of him, she began to thrust her hips, rubbing at his rising erection through the thin fabric of his tunic. His breathing became a low growl and he bit at his lip, primal intensity in his eyes. Barra lowered her face to his, capturing his mouth in a vicious, powerful kiss, almost a fight, their lips wrestling for dominance.

She reached down, sliding open the knot of his tunic and letting her hand slip underneath, grasping his thick Celtic cock. She rubbed at it inside his tunic even as their lips continued their battle, a thrust and retreat pattern that saw no winner, her actions on his length drawing the occasional groan from deep in his throat. Barra broke the kiss and pulled back just long enough to see the hungry look in his eyes, before she slid down the length of his body, planting kisses that were almost bites on his exposed torso.

She reached the waist of his tunic and hooked both hands into it, yanking it down with hungry force, until the tunic had slid to just beneath the muscles of ass and the bottom of his shaft. Barra lingered there for a moment, taking in the sight of that thick, veined length, its rich red tip standing free. She leaned in, running her tongue playfully up and down the shaft, teasing him for a moment before sliding her lips over the bulging tip, and Finn let out a sigh of pleasure as she took him into her mouth, slowly sinking down his length to take the entire thing, tasting the sweet taste of his precum on her tongue. She began to settle into a long, slow rhythm, sliding with deliberate pace up the length of that shaft, her tongue pressing against its underside, her lips sliding up around the head, and then back down, feeling the thickness of it fill her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat as she buried her face in his bush, smelling the fresh smell of his sweat as it mingled with the wildflower scent of the air, enjoying the agony of pleasure she knew she was causing him by working so methodically.

'Barra, please...' he moaned, desperate for more, but she kept to her pace, not changing it in the slightest, making him beg for what he wanted from her. He tried thrusting his hips, forcing her to take it faster, but she pinned him to the ground, drawing a rough laugh from him. Finally, when she decided he had taken enough punishment, she let her mouth slide up off the end with a light pop, and licked her lips. She pushed herself up to kiss him on the mouth again, the taste of his precum still fresh on her tongue as she rubbed her clothed pussy against his exposed cock.

'Please what?' she growled, so wet she was sure he could feel it even through her tunic.

'Please let me take that sweet pussy,' he said, between rough kisses. Barra chuckled, sliding her hands toward her waist.

There was a sudden sound of running footsteps behind her. For a wild moment Barra considered ignoring them, but they grew closer, and frustrated she turned to see a young man from the village sprinting up the hill, his skin red and shining with sweat, his eyes wide with fear. Barra reluctantly climbed off Finn, rolling over onto her back. The youth's eyes caught briefly on Barra's bare breasts and Finn's slick shaft, but he managed to stutter out his message all the same

'Barra, Finn, I'm sorry but...it's the Roman armies! They're here!'

Finn tugged his tunic back into place, and looked to Barra, his eyes narrowed.

'How?' he cried. 'They were a week away!'

Barra stared into the middle distance, weighing their options.

'It must have been a forced march,' she said. 'They wanted to be on top of us before we knew it, so we couldn't harass them along the way.' She stood, pinning her tunic back into place. 'Impressive – it's what I would've done.'

'Then what do we do?' Finn said.

'We're out of options,' Barra replied, and turned to Brenock, the young messenger. 'Get back to the town. Get everyone armed and ready.'

There was fierce defiance in her voice, but an undercurrent of inevitability, too.

'We fight,' she said.

-*-

Fight they did, and Barra's people were not the victors.

Barra was led into the tent in chains, pulled along by two legionaries. The summer sun gave way to the dark interior of the tent, the light filtering through its rich red canvas walls. Inside, a tall man stood facing away, his hands clasped behind his back. The two legionaries threw Barra to the floor, her knees colliding heavily with the earth, and a small grunt of pain escaped her lips. The tall figure gave a small laugh, and turned.

Barra was immediately struck by how much of a general he looked. His hair was cut short, shaved almost to the skull in a way no man of the Celtoi wore it, and instead of a rugged beard he had only the dark shadow of a day's growth. His eyes were grey steel, piercing and intense, and the lines of his face were sharp. His shining armour left his arms exposed, and she could see they were thickly muscled and defined. He was no general to sit on the sidelines – this one wanted to be in deep, thrusting with the rest of his men. He fixed his piercing stare on Barra, and she could almost feel his thoughts entering her, reaching into her to dig deep, trying to find out her secret truths. She gazed right back, no stranger to men with power. The general smiled icily.

'Celtic barbarian,' he said, 'Welcome to the camp of your betters. My name is General Titus. If you're sharp, you'll do exactly as I say, and tell me exactly what I wish to know.'

'And if you're sharp,' Barra replied, 'You'll stick your attitude up your arse.'

One of the legionaries yanked her to her feet by her chains and grabbed a handful of hair – Barra growled as her head was pulled back, and Titus rounded his desk to approach her, drawing so close he could have kissed her, and she could smell the rich scent of his fresh sweat. A feeling rose inside her at the smell, but whether she wanted to fight or fuck, she wasn't quite sure.

'Careful, Celt,' Titus hissed, moving close to whisper straight into her ear, his breath caressing her neck. 'Offend us, and we'll be certain to take it out on your people a hundred-fold.'

'Fine,' she shrugged. 'Who do I have to suck to get released around here?'

Titus' eyes narrowed, as he tried to hide his surprise and amusement.

'I'm sorry?' he said, with measured blankness.

'Don't be an ass,' Barra replied. 'You and I both know I'm not getting out of here without at least sucking a dick. So come on, then. Is it going to be you, big boy?' She nodded her head toward one of the legionaries. 'Or Cockus Maximus, here?'

Titus allowed himself a grin, and replied with mock ease. 'Well,' he said, 'If you're so eager to suck a cock, then it would be a shame to discourage you. Legionary Cockus?' The legionary looked at his general, an expression of disbelief on his face.

'General?'

'Legionary, maybe you should see how ready to suck a cock she is, exactly. Consider it a bonus.'

'But, sir...' the legionary said, 'She might...Sir, she's a wildling. She might...'

'Bite it off?' Barra said, and gave a bark of laughter. 'Aye, I might. That's the risk you wasps took coming to Albion.' She raised her manacled hands, the chains jingling faintly. 'But why don't you take these off and you'll see?'

The legionaries looked hesitantly at each other, and Barra rolled her eyes. 'Aye, an unarmed woman in the middle of a Roman camp. Big threat.'

'Unchain her,' Titus ordered, and the legionaries moved to obey. Barra rubbed at her wrists as the heavy cuffs fell away, and then she gazed at the nearest legionary, the one she had called Cockus Maximus.

'What's your name, wasp?'

'Legionary Decimus,' he replied, frowning.

'Decimus,' she echoed, moving slowly toward him. He was younger than his general, fresher of face, his naïve eyes wide and questioning beneath a tangle of obsidian hair. He hadn't long become a man, Barra thought, but like all of the legionaries, he was built well, grown strong beneath a warm sun far away, made stronger by a Roman obsession with conquest. As she reached him, she draped her hands over his shoulders. She could feel the eyes of Titus and the second solider intent on her, could almost feel the way their brains had slipped over from hostility to lust.

Slowly, she slid down to her knees. Decimus drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, as she began to run her hands up his legs, starting with his bare shins, stroking against the grain of his hair up past his knees, under the battle-skirt that was not unlike the kilts Barra's own men wore, hiking it up as her arms moved. Unlike her own men, the Romans wore a garment beneath, and she revealed it as she shifted the kilt out of the way. It was a wrapped loincloth of some kind, and Barra tugged at it – it eventually fell away, and from it Decimus's cock leapt, hard and ready, thick and glistening as it stood out from a patch of pubic hair as dark and curled as that on his head. Barra leaned forward, breathing in the smell of fresh sweat mingled with the sweet tinge of the pre-cum that had already gathered at the tip.

She glanced up at him, and he looked back at her uncertainly, still partly afraid but oh-so-willing for the fiery wild-woman to take him in her mouth. She leaned in, pressing her tongue against the base of the shaft, one hand sliding underneath to cup Decimus's hanging balls. Decimus gave a soft grunt of pleasure as she slid her tongue up his length, stopping at the sweet spot just below the head, pressing her tongue on it with extra force. Barra smirked to herself before sliding further up, this time letting her warm mouth slip around the head of his cock, drawing a deep moan from Decimus.

Barra slid her mouth down the cock, secretly revelling in her control over the soldier, and taking a taboo thrill in the thought of sucking the dick of a foreigner, a man raised in a strange country on the other side of the world, a man who was now an enemy of their people.

Men are all the same,
she thought, as she took it all the way into her mouth, down to the base. Decimus was gasping now, and the second soldier began to approach, rubbing at his cock from the outside of his kilt, the bulge visible under the fabric.
 

'Decimus,' Titus said, but Decimus was slow to respond, too busy lost in moaning at the feel of Barra's lips around him. 'Decimus, bring her here.'