Roman Enslavement

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Roman Enslavement
Part Nine

\"Malanda has outdone herself on such short notice."\ Lucius dipped his fingers into the plate of roasted peppers, scooping up a fragrant gob of red and green.

Lupus nodded in happy agreement. \"We have plenty of food at school,
but it's plain. No one thinks to season it much. They never put mint in the peas, the way I like it."\

The family half reclined on comfortable couchs, the dishes spread before them on low tables, as was the custom. Rentic hovered nearby, ready to refill goblets as needed.

\"So, you will not miss school?"\ Dramilla watched her eldest son fondly. She had delayed his entering the Acadamy. He had been twelve, instead of ten, as was usual. She just hadn't been able to bear parting with him. When Gaius was born, though, she listened to her husband, and sent him off to spend most of the year with other noble or moneyed youths at the school.

Consequently, though he was technically of age, he hadn't really had the full privileges that accompanied manhood. He'd been patient about this, joking that it was to his advantage to be the eldest at school. Dramilla wanted to do something special for him to celebrate his ascendency into adult hood. She'd discussed it with her husband. Generally, a young man did not own a personal slave until he bought one on his own. They had decided to gift their son with a slave of his choosing. Dramilla had been scouting possibilities for some time. Now that he was home, she hoped to get some idea of his desires in that area. Then she could obtain a selection of possibles and present them to him.

Malanda entered, bearing proudly before her the roast lamb. Its little body was trussed in a natural lying position, head resting on bent knees. The skin was a succulent, golden brown. Mozelle followed with a tray of tiny roast fowl. She was eyeing the lamb in a distinctly queasy fashion. She'd lost her lunch when Rentic butchered it. Dischordia would have been pleased.

Malanda placed the lamb before Lucius, then helped Mozelle distribute the quail while Rentic began to carve slices from it. The first went to Lucius, the second to Lupus, as men were served first. When they started to move on to Dramilla, Lupus grabbed Mozelle's shirt, stopping her. \"Malanda, you can finish serving alone, can't you?"\

The cook hesitated. \"Aye, Master Lupus. I can."\

\"Good. Take the tray and leave her here with me, would you?"\ Malanda glanced at Lucius, who shrugged. She took the tray from Mozelle and laid the last quail before Lady Dramilla.

Mozelle watched this apprehensively. "Malanda?"

"You stay."

\"What are you up to, Lupus?"\ his mother asked.

\"Just wanting a little pampering, Mother."\ he replied. He scooted
back a little, making room, and tugged at the woman till she sat on the edge of the couch. He pointed at the food, then at his mouth. "Feed."

"You have to be joking. There aren't even any spoons or forks. I know forks aren't invented till around the Middle Ages, but still..."

He pushed at her thigh, and said firmly, "Feed!"

"Oh, God, this is so unsanitary." She broke off a piece of bread and
offered it to him. He opened his mouth, lifting his eyebrows. She sighed and leaned forward, tucking the morsel in his mouth. He nodded, chewing contentedly.

Rentic had placed a thick, pink slice of lamb before them, the plate
swimming with juices. Lupus pointed at it next. There weren't any knives available. With a grimace she wrestled a chunk off it, coating her fingers with grease. "Oh, gross, gross, gross." She fed him, then plucked off another bite and repeated the process. "When I think of that poor little thing, it's almost enough to make me a vegetarian. It does smell good, though."

"Mozelle!" Rentic hissed. "No talk."

\"It's all right, Rentic."\ Lupus smiled up at the other man. \"I
can't understand much of it, but I like to hear her talk. She has a
pleasant voice. I've never heard an accent like that."\

He watched in amusement as she struggled to dismember the quail, muttering what were obviously curses. When she offered the tiny drumstick, he grasped her wrist and held her still while he gnawed the meat off the bone. For good measure, he licked some of the juice off her fingers. That made her tremble.

Dramilla was busy with discussing the small party they would have in Lupus's honor, but his son was preoccupied with the slave. *So, he's taken a fancy to her. Huh. The woman nearly stabbed him, and now he's playing with her. Funny thing is, the woman isn't playing back with him. That's odd. Most slaves are eager enough to ingratiate themselves to their owners. My son is a handsome, charming man. Still, she seems uncomfortable, even reluctant.*

At last Rentic and Malanda cleared the tables of the half empty platters. They brought around basins of warm water, and fresh towels. Lupus washed his own hands, then plunged Mozelle's into the water, bathing them also, and dried them. The other slaves brought in cakes, sweets, and fruit to finish the meal.

Mozelle was prepared to feed Lupus, as she had before. He had something different in mind this time, though. He sat up a bit higher against the raised arm of the sofa, hooked his arm around her waist, and dragged her down. "Lie."

Startled, she started to struggle. He pinched her sharply, saying, "No, slave."

"Mozelle!" Rentic waved at her, looking annoyed. "Lie. Legs up."

She froze. Was this customary? Dramilla was looking mildly surprised. Lucius, looking indulgent, made the same gesture Rentic had. Slowly she lifted her legs up and stretched out on her side beside Lupus, lying stiffly. What in God's name was he up to?

Lupus turned on his hip, spooning up against her and holding her with his left arm over her waist. With his right hand, he broke off a chunk of cake and ate it, hand idly stroking her belly. The second bit he pressed to her lips, so she ate it. It tasted good, but she was scarcely of any mind to enjoy it.

*This is too bizarre for words.* Candy, figs... He ate and fed her steadily. Mozelle didn't have anything to judge by, but she suspected that there weren't many slaves in the city getting as good a meal as she was right then.

Lupus popped a fat, blue-black grapto hto her mouth. It burst against her tongue with winey sweetness. *Mff. They haven't gotten seedless grapes yet. What am I going to do with the pip? I can hardly spit it out on the floor.* Lupus cupped his hand in front of her mouth. She mumbled, "Oh, you have got to be kidding." He slapped her lightly on the back of the head, and she spit the seed into his palm. "I should be happy. I don't see how you can be
sexually attracted to someone who spits grape seeds into your hand." He fed her another grape, and the process was repeated.

The meal was finally done. Lupus stretched contentedly, snugging her back against him with a sigh. Dramilla said quietly \"Son, let Mozelle go. She needs to go help Tessa with the boys."\

Lupus unhooked his arm, and gave the woman a little shove. "Go help Tessa."

"Bout freakin' time." She winced at her own words, but Rentic and Lupus, the only ones who could have possibly understood, looked blank. "The blessings of speaking a different language."

Lupus sat up, watching the slave leave. \"You know, Mother, she's wasted as a nursery slave. She should be trained. She already does quite well for having no formal instruction."\

\"I'm satisfied with her as she is, Lupus. She does exactly what I bought her to do."\

\"Would you object if I trained her? I don't have much to occupy me these days."\

His mother arched her eyebrow. \"What sort of training?"\

\"Oh, as a body servant. Dressing, care of garments, massage... various things."\

Lucius spoke up. \"I don't see any reason why not. It can only improve her value. Just don't let it interfer with her duties to the boys, Son."\

Lupus smiled. \"No, Father. I thinkan fan find time when she isn't needed."\