Kim's master came into the kitchen. From the look on his face, she could see what he wanted, and it wasn't food. His dark eyes seemed to be drilling into hers. She stopped kneading the bread, putting it down on the counter and turned to face him. Her heart pounded, her core muscles clenched, and her tongue slid over her upper lip. She was eager to please her dominus, to be a good slave-girl. He had spent the last two nights with his wife, while she had spent them alone in her bedroom, with two of her fingers working inside her, a poor substitute for his cock. She was feeling the need for his touch and his desire, hoping that his enthusiasm for his new girl hadn't started to wane.
He came up to her and put both his hands around her neck, holding her firmly as he kissed her forehead, her earlobe, then her mouth, penetrating her deeply with his tongue. He tightened his grip on her throat, just enough to thrill and scare her slightly. Her pulse started to race, and she could feel it in her neck, throbbing hard against his powerful hands. She realised that he must be able to feel it pounding too; she could have no secrets from him. She could feel his heat, his strength, his need, and his growing erection pressing up against her through his toga and her thin tunic.
His large hands moved down to her shoulders and spun her around, pushing her forward so she was pinned against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. He tugged at the ties over her shoulders and a moment later her tunic dropped to the floor. His hands slipped down from her shoulders to cup her breasts, pulling her close to him, his face in her hair, as he fondled and lifted her tits. She closed her eyes as she felt his fingers stroking her nipples, then rubbing them more firmly as they started to grow and stiffen, pulling, tweaking, pinching, making her gasp and yelp.
One hand grasped her firmly by her hair; the other held her shoulder. He pushed her slowly forwards over the counter until her inflamed nipples touched the cold marble slab. His hands worked down over her back, holding her down on the cool stone, massaging her, working slowly lower. He explored the gently curving contours of her waist before settling on her round ass. His strong hands stroked her gently at first, then kneaded her more firmly, his fingers sinking into her soft, yielding flesh, parting her cheeks.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he picked up the jug of olive oil that she had been adding to the dough to get it to the right texture. She knew what he was going to do with it, and just thinking about it made her tingle with anticipation.
Kim gasped as she felt the trickle of oil on her rear, followed by her master's firm hands, pulling her apart, working the oil into her with his fingertips, slowly preparing her for him. Back in her previous life, in twenty-first century Manchester, anal sex had been something that she had occasionally accepted, but never enjoyed. But here in ancient Rome, they really knew how to do it, and she was starting to get pleasure from it.
The olive oil slid along her crack, followed by her master's finger, spreading the lubricant up and down, rubbing it into her tight little ring of muscle. She knew she had to relax for what was coming next, and succumbed to his firm massaging. He moved closer and she could feel his erection pressing against her bare thigh and his strong legs pushing hers apart. His well-oiled finger pushed against her, and slid easily inside, turning, twisting, probing her. As he slowly withdrew the finger, he poured another little stream of oil with his other hand. It ran down the penetrating finger and slithered inside her slightly open hole.
His finger returned, pushing in deeper this time, spreading the olive oil inside her, making her tighten up around him. Meanwhile, she could feel the head of his cock moving closer, teasingly brushing up the inside of her thigh and over her wet pussy lips, almost but not quite fucking her, making her moan with desire. She wanted it in there, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. She knew he liked to deny her, to torment her, as a way of reminding her that she was his, to be used as he wished.
His cock moved higher, into her well-oiled valley. She squeezed her buttocks around it and moved up and down on him as far as her restrained position would allow, spreading the oil over him, eager to feel him and give him pleasure. She could feel him flex against her, and was rewarded by a little groan from him as she clenched him as tightly as she could.
His strong hands opened her up again and she felt the head of his cock against her tight hole. It felt so big, but she knew that it would go in there, thanks to the slippery oil and his skill and experience, as long as she could keep her excitement under control and relax her muscles.
He pushed the tip inside her, making her cry out and tighten up again around him. Then he pulled back, and went in again, going a little deeper each time, teasing her taut little hole with the bulging head of his cock. He pushed in further, fucking her with a steady, slow rhythm, stretching her, filling her. She moaned her appreciation as he leaned forward over her, holding her down with one hand on her ass and one between her shoulders, dominating her, owning her.
His cock in her ass felt so good, large, and satisfying, and although she could hardly move, she tried to pleasure him by clenching and squeezing him inside her. She was getting tingles of pleasure as she did so, and smiled to herself as she heard him groan while she tightened around him.