Rome rules – Ch. 01

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First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my prolonged absence and express my gratitude towards those who have inquired about me and continued supporting me.

I am eager to make it up to you for your patience by presenting this story, which I hope you will enjoy. This one is just the first chapter: as always, it might seem slow in terms of plot development, but fear not, the next chapter will be packed with steamy sex, and will arrive very soon. In the meantime, you can let your imagination run wild and consider all the spicy possibilities I may create for the characters…

As for the setting, I have ventured into new territory by exploring a historic theme. I hope you’ll like it. Apart from that, all the other elements that you have come to expect from my writing will still be present, including lesbian seduction, big boobs, and more.

Also, unfortunately this time my publisher couldn’t help me with his corrections and valuable advices. I had to do everything on my own, and since I am not a native English speaker, I apologize for any errors that I may have made and please be understanding.


Disclaimers: All the characters in this story are 18 years old or more. This story also contains some strong NonConsent/Reluctance scenes, so if you don’t like it, unlike the main character of this story, you’re free, don’t read it!

I also want to make it clear that I firmly believe in respecting boundaries and ensuring that all forms of intimacy are consensual. My stories contain NonConsent/Reluctance erotic fantasies, but they are just that – fantasies. I do not condone or encourage any non-consensual or disrespectful behavior in real life. It’s important to approach any kind of intimacy with care and respect for each person’s boundaries and desires.


Astrid was picking potatoes in a field at the edge of the woods when she heard the first cry. The knights descended from the north, suddenly bursting out of the trees. With just one glance, Astrid could tell they were Praetorians, and she immediately began to run, dropping the sack with the harvest to the ground.

“Arnulf, hurry, run!” Astrid barely had time to glance to her right as she held up her skirt with her hands to run faster, encouraged to see Arnulf by her side. He ran agile and swift, as only a young boy could run.

The thunderous roar of the hooves on the ground was deafening, and its rapid growth in volume made it clear to Astrid that the knights behind her were rapidly approaching. She tried to veer to the left towards the woods, promptly followed by Arnulf. The dense and dark fir trees were not far away, and inside them, they would have had a better chance of hiding. Perhaps they could make it to them.

As she ran at breakneck speed, with her breath heavy, Astrid began to hope. But the horses were getting closer and Astrid could already hear the encouraging shouts of the riders. She had studied Latin in Aachen, her father wanted her to understand the language of the enemy, so she understood what the Praetorians were saying.

“Come on, let’s get that bitch and the brat! Let’s go!” Astrid could smell the pungent odor of the horses and their hot panting on her neck.

Then she heard a hiss, and something hard hit her head. A flash of light, and then nothing.


Astrid returned to the present but immediately regretted it. Her head was pounding, and she felt her limbs heavy as boulders. The slow rocking and creaking of wood made her realize she was on a cart. Opening her eyes was a great effort, she felt them swollen and feverish. Through the slit of her eyelids, she saw that the cart was large, and there were at least five or six other prisoners with her. A long chain bound them all together by the ankle. Her heart filled with relief when she saw young Arnulf beside her. Some unkempt legionaries marched next to the cart.

“Arnulf… Where are we?”

“Astrid! So you’re alive, what joy! I was so worried, you lost a lot of blood…”

Astrid brought her hand behind her neck, the source of her pain, and felt her hair matted with dry and clotted blood. She barely touched a swollen and pulsating cut, and withdrew immediately screaming in pain.

“What happened?”

“The Romans captured us, we’re marching south. You were unconscious all night and half of today. Sunset must be just a few hours away now…”

“I don’t understand… why did the Romans capture us? We’re civilians, we weren’t doing anything wrong…”

“It’s rumored that King Arminius annihilated Rome’s legions in the dark forests of Teutoburg… a crushing victory, my lady! Surely, your husband was by his side! He must have covered himself in glory, I’m sure, along with the other rebel princes!”

Astrid was comforted, happy with her people’s victory over the invader. It was time they returned south of the Rhine. However, for a moment, her heart tightened with worry, thinking of Thorbrand who participated in the battle, with all Antep Escort its risks.

“But why are we prisoners then?”

“I think the Romans are retreating beyond the Rhine, towards their Castra Vetera camp. But the defeat has embittered them, as they retreat they are raiding the countryside, setting fire to crops and taking women and children prisoners. I think they want revenge, and they are hitting our men in war in the vilest way, taking it out on their families… Astrid, I’m afraid… what if they want to sell us as slaves?”

Slaves… that thought hit Astrid like a punch, making her shudder.


The legionaries escorted them to their large Castra Vetera camp south of the Rhine, and from there they were handed over to a merchant named Astanas and his Macedonian mercenaries. Everywhere around them, Astrid could see the signs of Rome’s defeat, as columns of dirty and tired legionaries marched with their heads down along the same roads they had built not long ago.

Astrid, however, was desperate – they were taking her to Rome! Far away from Thorbrand and her homeland! Cowards, attacking women and children when their fathers, brothers, and husbands were far away and could not defend them. The feeling of being a prisoner, powerless, was horrible, and Astrid’s free and rebellious spirit could not bear it. She alternated bitter tears, which ran down her dirty face, with fits of anger, in which she insulted and yelled at any Roman who was nearby: “Dirty dogs, cowards! Crawl back to Rome, that filthy and corrupt hole you came from! You are weak, you will never conquer us fierce people of the North! Dirty dogs!” Eventually, a Macedonian mercenary would always come to silence her with a slap.

Astrid and the long procession of prisoners were forced to advance on foot, barefoot, on the edge of the road, to leave it free for the marching soldiers. Astrid’s feet were already covered in blisters and bleeding sores as she trudged through the cold and muddy roads due to the intense rains. But she persevered, since the pain in her head was gradually becoming less intense. On the second day, Arnulf had washed her wound, and fortunately, it did not seem to be infected.

They had already been on the march for four days when one night, as Astrid tried to fall asleep while holding the dirty rag they had thrown at her as a blanket, which was absolutely insufficient in those cold autumn nights, she suddenly felt a hard and calloused hand covering her mouth.

“Shut up, filthy whore, unless you want me to hurt you even more… I’ve been watching you walk for a few days now… you really have some nice mare’s buttocks, you know… it excites me so much to watch your ass as you walk… I really feel like fucking you… you’ll see, if you behave, it won’t hurt too much… and if you behave really well, I might even find you a spot on a cart and give you some apples during the journey… ouch! Filthy bitch!”

Astrid bit his finger, and he momentarily lost his grip. She hissed at him, in perfect Latin: “Go away, filthy pig! I will never give myself to you, disgusting servant of Rome!”

But the man was strong, he managed to cover her mouth again, and as much as she struggled furiously, Astrid felt crushed under his weight against the hard frozen ground. Like in a nightmare, she felt him lifting her skirt, and felt his foul breath on her neck.

“Stay still, little bitch, don’t wriggle, you’ll get used to it…”

Suddenly, just as Astrid, desperate, began to feel the man’s hard member of excitement pressing against her rear, the night around her suddenly lit up, she heard a dull thud, the man above her gave a muffled sob, and then felt something warm and wet flood her back, before feeling the man’s lifeless body collapse on top of her. She immediately shook him off and took only a few moments to understand that the warm and sticky substance she had felt on her back was the man’s blood. Astrid turned, stunned, and saw Atanas, the merchant who was taking them to Rome, standing behind her with a torch in his hand. At his sides were three mercenaries, one of whom held a short lance, the tip of which was still dripping blood.

“Scum without respect for the hand that pays them. I bend over backwards to pay a good salary regularly, provide excellent food, and these ungrateful ones repay me by ruining my goods! Let this be a lesson to all, this is what happens to those who touch my merchandise!” added Atanas, addressing the mercenaries.

“Get up now, girl… calm down, it’s all over.” Atanas approached her with the torch to see her better.

“But you… you’re beautiful! I hadn’t noticed before because of the dirty hair and face, but look at those beautiful eyes, proud and icy as only you women from the north can have, and those fierce features! Noble features… tell me, woman, who are you, what’s your name? You’re not a mere peasant…”

Astrid stood up, readjusting her skirt.

“My name is Astrid, daughter Antep Escort Bayan of Sigfrid of Ingoldstadt. And my husband is Thorbrand, who has just given your Roman masters a sound lesson, and as soon as he finds out that you have kidnapped his wife, he will march to Rome and level it to the ground, just to find me!” So spoke Astrid, spitting at Atanas’ feet.

But Atanas didn’t seem to worry at all, on the contrary, he smiled.

“Well, well… a barbarian princess of such beauty will earn me quite a few sesterces in Rome… let no one touch her!”


The march lasted several more days, it was long and arduous under the autumn rains. They advanced slowly, and when they reached the Alps, Astrid’s eyes widened in amazement, she had never imagined that mountains of such size could exist, she had only seen the undulating hills of her homeland so far. In front of them, she suddenly felt small, insignificant, and for the first time, she realized the ever-increasing distance between her and Thorbrand, and a first hint of doubt and fear gripped her… would she really be able to free herself one day and return home to her man? But it was only a momentary setback, then Astrid saw an eagle soaring in the sky, so small yet capable of flying over those gigantic mountains, and immediately regained confidence, nothing could keep her away from Thorbrand, they would never break her, no matter how far they took her and what humiliations they subjected her to, one day she would return free, free like that eagle.

Crossing the Alps was a tremendous undertaking, they were hit by several snowstorms, many of the prisoners died, and even the mercenaries seemed to suffer, but Atanas was in a hurry to sell his merchandise and pocket the money, he didn’t care how many of those filthy barbarians would die along the way. Fortunately for Astrid, she was allowed to travel on a cart to preserve her, and as much as she had objected and protested against that privilege, she had been forced to accept that preferential treatment with beatings.

When they finally arrived on the other side of the Alps, the weather improved, and in front of Astrid, Italy opened up with all its wealth and abundance, the origin of the power of Rome, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was stunned to see how advanced the people they met along the way were, and how rich the harvests and fat the flocks seemed, and how the beautiful cities they crossed made the villages of huts in her homeland look miserable. But it didn’t matter, the greatness of her people lay in the indomitable and pure spirit that supported them, no matter how rich Rome was, her people would never kneel before her!

To Astrid’s great relief, even Arnulf, with the vigor of his youth, managed to overcome the terrible ordeal of the Alps. Thus, together, one day in late October, they set their eyes on Rome for the first time, which appeared suddenly before them in all its grandeur when the procession reached the top of a hill.

Astrid was not mentally prepared for that sight, and the first impact was a real shock. Rome was enormous, Astrid’s first thought was that all the people of her land would not have been enough to fill it, but that was not the only thing that struck her. Rome was also majestic, imposing, made of tall, multi-story buildings of solid white stone. Its streets were paved, imposing aqueducts brought water into the city, and its grandiose monuments proclaimed its glory. Astrid was overwhelmed by the grandeur of Rome, and for the second time, the confidence that harbored in her heart wavered… was victory against such greatness possible? After all, the victory they had achieved had only been a sting compared to the power of Rome…

Astrid was still lost in contemplation of Rome as they walked its streets, lost like in a dream, and beside her, on Arnulf’s face, one could read the same confusion. Was it possible for man to reach such a peak of civilization?

Yet looking closer, Astrid noticed how fat men were, and how women were swollen like so many toads, bent under the weight of jewelry and rich clothes. Everywhere, slaves. Nubians of ebony, Italic, imposing and blond Gauls, stocky Iberians, cunning Egyptians… all known tribes were in the service of Rome. Slaves who carried goods, slaves who built, slaves who cooked, who cleaned the houses… everything was done by the slaves. And so Astrid found courage, the Romans had softened, they were corrupt and spoiled, soft and weak, their dominion could not last much longer. How could they oppose the free fury of the peoples of the north?

They were locked up in a compound, and were allowed to rest for a couple of days after the long journey. They were given good food, simple but substantial, and were carefully washed by silent servants. Women were made to wear light and short tunics, while boys wore leather loincloths.

“Rest and enjoy your last day of freedom… tomorrow you will be sold, and you will meet your new Escort Antep master!” Astanas told them that evening, before leaving and closing the heavy gate of the compound behind him.


At mid-morning, the prisoners were led in a group out of the compound to a palace with a large Greek colonnade in front of it. The room was long and narrow. More than half of it was taken up by low benches on which buyers sat, mostly wealthy notables from the Roman aristocracy, while at the other end of the room the prisoners, including Astrid and Arnulf, were gathered. They were made to take turns ascending a low platform, subjected to the judgment of the crowd, while Astanas extolled their virtues. Then the buyers began to make offers, and whoever offered the most would take home the purchased slave.

The air was heavy, spoiled, charged with the scent of Roman incense and perfumes, which barely concealed the stench of their sweaty bodies.

Arnulf and Astrid were made to climb up together onto the platform, pushed rudely by two brutes. Both were trembling, but Astrid managed to hold her head high, fixed in a sign of challenge, proud and disdainful of that crowd of decadent fat masters. They could buy her name, but they could never buy her spirit!

“And here you are, my lords and ladies, a prized lot, a rare lot… a fierce barbarian princess, daughter of a king and consort of a rebel leader, from the distant lands of Germany, and her young servant! Look, admire, her beauty, her features, her posture, the purity of her eyes! Think of what a delightful concubine she could be, what a precious piece to add to your brothel, or the pleasure of being able to have your feet massaged by a rebel princess! And look at that handsome young man, such vigor in his limbs! He could perhaps be a splendid gladiator one day, who knows, or an excellent squire… or you could castrate him and make him a bedboy, for those who appreciate…”

Various murmurs of lascivious approval ran through the room. A few more moments of anxious waiting, and then the bids began to rain down. An auction was truly unleashed, in which bids became increasingly dizzying and shameless, shouted from throats increasingly choked by the desire to possess that special lot. Quickly, they came to a conclusion. On one side, a wealthy spice merchant, on the other, a well-known senator. The merchant was evaluating the senator’s last bid, of ten thousand sesterces. A vein was pulsating on his sweaty forehead, while he chewed his thumbnail. Then, roaring and belching like a bull, he raised the bid: “Twelve thousand! That bitch will be mine, by Jupiter!”

The senator thought for a moment, then lowered his head in resignation. The fat merchant was already exulting and receiving congratulations from his companions when a sweet and velvety voice, but at the same time strong and uncompromising, said: “Twenty-five thousand. Five for the boy, and twenty for the woman.”

An abrupt silence fell on the room. Everyone fell silent, and their gaze turned towards an elegant Roman matron, sitting in the back rows.

Astrid had followed the auction up to that moment as if in a trance, as if they were not haggling over her price. She heard the voices, but did not search for the face that corresponded to them. She kept her gaze solemnly fixed forward, animated by an indomitable hope. That voice, however, so different from that of the men who had been competing for it until then, caught Astrid’s attention. Nevertheless, from that distance, hidden by the smoke of the incense and the darkness, Astrid could not grasp the features of the woman. No one bid again, so the woman signed a promissory note that one of her slaves delivered to Astanas, after which she got up and left, followed by a couple of handmaidens.

Before they took her away, Astanas whispered to her, “Goodbye, my little one… you belong to Donna Lucilla now… you know, I’m actually glad, I prefer her having you rather than one of those lascivious Roman nobles… You were lucky, Donna Lucilla is a wealthy Roman aristocrat, from one of the most influential families. She is a widow, who married at a young age an already aged senator, who died a few years later without leaving any heirs. It is said she is very rich, and treats her slaves much better than others do. Of course, if you are able to satisfy her… but you will realize all of this, you’ll see… I am really curious to know how it will go, but unfortunately, our acquaintance ends here… goodbye, barbarian princess!”


And so it was that Astrid and Arnulf were led to Donna Lucilla’s residence by her guards. It was an enormous patrician villa on the hills of Rome, slightly outside the center, huge and surrounded by a vast garden of cypresses and maritime pines. In front of the house, a rich fountain bubbled happily, a luxury that only the wealthiest Roman patricians could afford, while on either side of the entrance two statues, one in white marble dedicated to the goddess Aphrodite, and the other entitled to a mysterious poetess named Sappho, whom Astrid did not know, welcomed the guests.

Astrid was not accustomed to such magnificence, such luxury, not even the highest aristocrats among the Germans displayed so much wealth.

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