Damsels in Distress Read Free

behind, not that the thin silk did much to mask her form from the front. Petra did not even take the silk piece off altogether, simply untying the back knot and draping it around her neck like a scarf, before standing back to allow Paulus an unimpeded view.
    Elen trembled under his intense scrutiny. She had been naked before such hungry eyes before, but never shaven like this, and it made her feel more vulnerable, more exposed. Awareness of his switch, which seemed to writhe like something alive in his tanned hands, only made her feel even more bare. She gripped the chain that linked her wrists together tightly, to try to stop her hands from trembling, but she could do nothing to prevent the blush that suffused her cheeks.
    ‘The barbarian bitches cleaned up pretty well,’ Paulus said at last, in a slightly strained voice. ‘Cooked and plucked and ready to be fucked!’
    He chuckled, but Elen did not join him.
    ‘All right,’ he said, as if with effort, ‘take them to the Lady Lavinia. Our ladyship is eager to entertain our guests.
    Although her stay at the new villa had been short, Elen had heard plenty about Lady Lavinia – too much for her liking.
    ‘Don’t complain of our Lord Arrius,’ Zenobia, the beautiful black girl, had said as she smoothed ointment into Elen’s sore buttocks. ‘The master may be rough, but he is not especially cruel. He only slaps to bring us into… condition.’
    The remark caused a ripple of merriment to run around the slave girls’ quarters.
    ‘But Paulus says that our Lady Lavinia is coming,’ Zenobia had continued, and that stopped the giggling instantly.
    ‘Do you know when she’s arriving?’ Petra asked in an anxious whisper.
    Zenobia had shrugged. ‘Perhaps two weeks, Paulus said, but perhaps the pig was just trying to frighten me.’
    ‘He has frightened me,’ Zana grumbled, with a shiver. ‘Look to your barbarian hides,’ she added, addressing Elen and Gwyn. ‘When our lady gets bored she likes to amuse herself with… games.’
    ‘Bitter games, for slave girls,’ Zenobia had said, looking into Elen’s eyes. ‘Alas she got bored easily in Rome.’
    There was a little chorus of gasps.
    ‘That is right,’ Petra put in, ‘I had not thought of that. If she was bored in Rome, what will she be like in this godforsaken wilderness?’
    ‘Your ladyship, the barbarian slaves!’ Paulus announced, self-importantly.
    Elen stood next to Gwyn and kept her head bowed, trying not to tremble as she felt Lavinia’s gaze stroke her barely veiled form.
    ‘So, this is what has been amusing my husband these last months?’ The voice was arch but more melodic than Elen had expected. ‘Well, they might not be exactly elegant, but I suppose curves have their place.’
    As she kept her gaze downcast, Elen was only aware of the woman moving into the periphery of her vision. Lavinia moved like a cat, rolling from her couch and moving towards the waiting slave girls like a lynx stalking its prey.
    ‘What is your name?’ she demanded, standing in front of Gwyneffyr.
    ‘Gwyneffyr of… ah!’
    Elen could see the woman’s crimson talons take hold of one of the dark-haired girl’s nipples through the film of silken cloth.
    ‘You are a slave, you barbarian filth. One simple name will do you!’
    ‘I have told her, your ladyship. She is called Gwen.’
    ‘She was called Gwen, you mean, Paulus. You should have whipped it into her. Obviously shortening her free name has confused her. What shall I call her? Look how she trembles, Paulus, isn’t she a treat? She really is delicious. That’s it! From now on, my little savage, you are called Delicia. What is your name?’
    ‘D-Delicia… aooww!’
    Squinting sideways, Elen could see that Lavinia still gripped her companion’s nipple in her red talons, and saw the sudden vicious twist.
    ‘Delicia, mistress . Now, let’s try that again, shall we?’
    ‘Delicia… m-mistress,’ the black-haired girl managed with a sob.
    Elen saw the