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 The Ownership Society Uther Pendragon nogardnePrethU@gmail.com Mf 1st hist
oral anal

   This material is copyright, 2009, by Uther Pendragon.  All rights
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping one
electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is
included.  Reposting requires previous permission.  If you have any
comments or requests, please e-mail them to me at nogardnePrethU@gmail.com
. All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public
figures in the background, are figments of my imagination.  Any resemblance
to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

   "I don't like that tunica," Mutter said.  "I can see your breechclout
even when you're standing still." "The winter tunica is too hot for work in
this weather," Gretchen replied "and Decennia hasn't given me her tunica
from last year yet." Decennia was shooting up.  She was up to Mutter's chin
now, and wearing a young woman's tunica.  Gretchen was nearly as tall as
Mutter now, though, and this tunica had been Decennia's as a girl.  It was
too short for Gretchen and too tight across her breasts.  But there was
nothing for them to do.  Mutter didn't have a second tunica.  They had no
access to cloth, they even had to borrow a needle when either of them had a
rip.  Being Decennia's pet slave had many advantages.  She would get the
tunica when Decennia realized she would never wear it again.  When Decennia
could escape to play, she would demand that Gretchen play with her.  That
happened less often now, Decennia had many family responsibilities and
participated in some social events of her age group.  Then, Gretchen had to
work.  Even so, Gretchen enjoyed the last year more than the previous one.
Octavian, Decennia's older brother, had been a pest for years.  The last
year before he went away, he had taken to chasing Gretchen into corners and
pawing her.  So, Decennia being with her mother, Gretchen was set to work
scrubbing the floor of the atrium on her hands and knees.  At least, they
were at the summer residence.  The house in Rome had an atrium four times
as large.  She was scrubbing busily when the Dominus passed through. 
"Dominus," she said.  She moved aside, although she hadn't really been in
his way.  "Serva," he replied.  "Hmm." A few minutes later, he was back
with the head housekeeper.  "I'm going to the western farm for a few weeks.
I think they haven't sufficient household slaves there for my visit.  What
would they be doing there without the family anyway?  I'd like to take this
one as well as my valet." "She's not well trained, Dominus." "I'm certain
that she will do." "As you say, Dominus.  You leave at dawn tomorrow?" At
the Dominus's nod, she continued, "Gretchen, be ready to leave at dawn."
"Decennia. . .  " Gretchen began.  "Decennia," the Dominus decreed, "will
have to get along without her playmate.  She's a woman now, and should be
learning woman things." He didn't seem to know Gretchen's name, but he did
know her position.  When she told Mutter that she was being sent to the
western farm, Mutter brought up escape again.  "Your Latin is as good as
Decennia's.  Away from places that know you, mobody could tell that you are
a slave." Mutter never took into consideration that there were Italian
slaves -- even though she knew some of them.  Not all blondes were German,
and not quite all Germans were slaves; but any blonde who claimed to be
free should be prepared to prove it.  The argument went around the usual
tracks, and she never even got around to telling Mutter that she was going
with the Dominus.  The chariot was crowded, with the Dominus, his secretary
-- a Greek who considered himself superior to other slaves, especially
Germans, his valet, and the driver as well as Gretchen.  They jounced first
south toward Rome, then in a circle, then back west towards the farm.  Some
of the trip was on stone roads, but much of it was on rutted dirt tracks.
It was nearly noon before they arrived; still, Gretchen couldn't have
walked the distance in anywhere near that time.  The house staff came out
to meet their Dominus at the arrival, and Gretchen was turned over to the
cook.  After that woman had served the Dominus, she faced Gretchen.  "What
is your name, girl, and what can you do?" "My name is Gretchen." "Phyllis."
"I don't know much about cooking.  I've washed the dirt off vegetables and
peeled them.  One thing you should know." "I know all about cooking." "I'm
close to my period.  I think the jolting of the chariot might have brought
it on." Women who were bleeding were generally not used to prepare food. 
Mutter thought it a superstition, but Mutter had not learned much more than
language in her time in Italy.  "Well, we don't want you in the kitchen,
then.  Do you know anything about the garden?" So Gretchen spent the next
several days gardening.  She ate with the other slaves and slept in
Phyllis's room.  Phyllis remembered her from when she was a baby.  "Dominus
bought your mother because she was nursing you.  When Domina delivered, he
sent you here; and your mother nursed the baby.  We put you on goat's milk
and mashed turnips.  You had trouble at first, but you were stomping around
and getting into everything before we sent you back.  Dominus ws pleased
that you survived." "That was good of him." He hadn't seemed to notice her
until the last week.  "It was to encourage your mother.  Wetnurses can be
careless.  They have control of their charges, without anyone seeing how
they act.  If baby Decennia had died, so would you." "You'd have killed
me?" "Not me.  Dominus would have sent a charioteer out here with a cord.
He would have strangled you.  It had happened before.  Not all Domina's
babies have lived." When her bleeding stopped, Gretchen told Phyllis.  The
kitchen was hot, but it was better work than the garden.  Instead of
teaching her how too cook or bake, however, Phyllis supervised her in
packig a fancy basket of food and wine.  Gretchen carried it after Dominus,
who walked to a grassy plot in a grove of trees.  While she served him
there, he began to caress her, especially her nipples where they were
pressed against the tight tunica.  She was reminded of his son's groping.
When she moved back, however, Dominus didn't chase her.  "Serva," he said
instead.  "Whose property are you?" "Your property, Dominus." "Then I may
do anything I want with you.  May I not?  I could have you killed on a
whim." "Yes, Dominus." She shivered, remembering Phyllis's mention of the
charioteer with a strangling cord.  "Don't shiver.  I was only giving you
an example.  I don't want to slay you, but to give you pleasure.  But
enough of that.  Food first.  Bring me a raisin." She fed him raisins,
putting thme in his mouth one at a time.  He ate all the raisins; but, when
he had enough of the bread and cheese, he let her eat the rest.  "Thirsty?"
he asked.  "Yes, Dominus." "Come here." He sat up and patted the space in
front of him.  He gave her the cup which he had used during the meal. 
"Pour yourself some wine and drink." It was heady stuff, unwatered.  When
Gretchen and the other slaves drank, it was more water than wine.  "Have
more," he said when she had finished the cup.  His hands covered her
breasts while she drank.  She couldn't escape; this was the Dominus, her
owner.  And, with the wine flowing through her, it started to feel good. 
He told her to strip and to spread out her breechclout on the ground as a
pad.  After she had removed his tunica, he had her lie down with her hips
on that pad.  He knelt between her legs and kissed her breasts.  Frightened
as she was, that felt exciting.  So did his hands on the lips between her
legs.  He stopped kissing her breasts and rose above her.  She felt
something else at her lower lips -- something that felt warmer than his
hand had felt..  "Serva," he said, "look me in the eye." That was a
violation of protocal, but she did so.  "Watch my face, as I will be
watching yours." Then she felt a stabbing pain.  She screamed.  When she
could see Dominus's face again, he was smiling.  "Now you are mine in
another way," he said.  "Relax.  the worst part is over.  Had not your
mother told you anything?" "About this?  Nothing, Dominus." "Relax.  The
rest is pleasure." The rest wasn't pleasure, although he held her breasts
in the way that she had enjoyed earlier.  Neither was it the first searing
pain.  He moved back and forth above her, in and out of the space where her
legs met.  She felt as though she were being rubbed or scraped somewhere
she had had never felt before.  Also, his weight pressed her into the
ground.  Finally, he grunted.  He fell heavily upon her and lay there. 
"You are a woman, now," he said when he finally pushed himself off her. 
She had been a woman since she first bled.  But there was blood on her leg
now -- blood out of season.  Some of it had dripped onto her folded
breechclout.  "Dress your Dominus before you dress yourself," he said when
she reached for the breechclout.  His was off, as well.  She saw his
genitals, the first she had seen of an adult man.  There was blood on his
phallus as well.  "That is your blood on me," Dominus said when he saw her
looking at his genitals.  "That is the instrument that made you a woman. 
Look at it." She looked.  She could not wrap it in a breechclout without
looking, anyway.  After helping him on with his tunica, she dressed
herself. She packed the remains of the meal and followed Dominus back to
the farmhouse.  "Tell the cook I shall not need you until tomorrow," he
said.  "She should find work for you until then." Gretchen relayed the
message.  Phyllis put her to work preparing dinner.  She did kitchen work
all the next day until it was time to seve dinner to Dominus.  As there
were no other family members at the farm, he ate alone.  Gretchen was told
to serve his meal.  He told her when she did something wrong, but he seemed
in good humor even when correcting her.  "Well, Serva," he said when he had
finished eating, "you seem to be learning.  You must have a name, what is
it.?" "Gretchen, Dominus." "Gretchen?  What sort of name is Gretchen?" "A
German name, Dominus." "A German name?  Serva, Gretchen, are you always so
literal?" "Dominus?" She had not the least idea what she had done wrong --
or done right, for that matter.  He seemed to be amused.  "Never mind.  I
like you literal.  Have you eaten?" "No, Dominus." No slaves ate before the
family left the table.  "Something will be in the kitchen." the cooks
always ate well, much better than the other slaves.  "Anything I have left,
you may eat before you bring it back to the kitchen.  When it is fully
dark, see me in my room." She had served him a whole chicken; he had eaten
not all that much more than half.  She feasted on that until she was afraid
of being sick.  Then she ate all the bread and turnips she wanted.  When
she brought the remains back to the kitchen, nobody complained about the
amount left for the rest of them.  It was still more chicken than the field
hands would get this month.  At full dark, she found his room empty.  She
waited there until the Dominus came in.  She removed his tunica and
breechclout and put them where he directed.  Then he told her to strip and
the peg to hold her clothes.  "Next time you are here before me, wait for
me naked.  Now come to bed." She did so, shivering in fear of the searing
pain.  "I have told you, that pain comes but once.  Lie still." As she did
so, he petted her.  He began with her breasts, then suckled them while
caressing between her legs.  Whatever her fears, the sensations were
exciting.  When he rose above her, the fears returned; but his entrance was
smooth and painless.  "Raise your knees more," he said.  When she did, he
slid a little more deeply inside her.  "Put your hands on my hips.  When I
come down on you, raise yourself against me.  When I rise, you should sink
down." She tried to follow his directions.  Following them became easier as
she went along.  She was beginning to feel real excitement when he grunted.
She could feel him throbbing within her befreo he fell onto her again.  She
held him until he rolled off.  "Sleep here tonight," he said.  "This is
your place to sleep." In the morning, he gave her a new tunica.  It had a
bit of blue embroidery at the neckline.  It fit comforatbly across her
breasts and fell nearly to her knees.  On the other hand, it was sleeveless
and the armholes were large enough to reveal the outsides of her breasts.
The neckline was low enough to show the tops of the breasts, as well.  It
was so sheer that what of the breasts were covered could be glimpsed
through the thin cloth.  Dominus had a polished silver plate for a mirror,
and he showed her herself in it.  She thanked him sincerely.  It was the
first piece of new clothing she had ever worn.  Gretchen found that beig
the Dominus's bed mate had some of the advantaes of being Deciminna's play
mate.  She had to serve him lunch and supper, be in his room when he
returned to it.  She was expected to work in the kitchen when he had no
need of his services.  But none of the other slaves dared ask whether their
Dominus really had need of her.  So she could eat her fill after serving
him meals and even take a little rest before returning the dishes and the
food remains to the kitchen.  When she awaited him in his bedroom, nobody
was authoized to tell her that she was too early.  She might be on her
feet, but she was not carrying anything -- nor wearing anything -- and was
not obliged to mind any task.  After the first day, Dominus ordered her to
serve lunch and dinner in her new tunica but without her breechclout.  He
could see the hair on her mound throgh the cloth.  So could the other house
servants as she went to and fro, but none of them dared touch her -- none
of the male servants even dared leer suggestively.  The second night, after
she had waited naked for Dominus and removed his clothes as well, he stood
petting her instead of going to bed.  By the time he lay down, she was
eager to join him.  He kissed her breasts some more and sucked her nipples
while stroking between her legs.  When he finally entered her, she was
quite excited.  His strokes within her fanned the flames.  Something was
drawing tight within her.  Then it broke.  "Ah!" she called out as her
belly throbbed.  "Ugh!" he echoed her.  This time, when he lay on her, she
could hear him gasping in her ear.  Surprisingly, she noticed that she was
breathing just as hard.  She was raising the considerable weight of his
torso on each breath.  "That was it!" he said.  "Did I not promise you
pleasure?" "You did, Dominus." And, she realized, that surge she had felt
had been quite pleasant.  When he rolled off her body, she turned on her
side to go to sleep.  He cupped her breast in his hand and cuddled against
her.  She found that the Dominus acted differently on different nights. 
Sometimes, after carressiing her breasts and thighs during two meals, his
phallus was already nearly erect by the time she unwrapped his breechclout.
Some of those nights, he worked to draw out her response and expressed
pleasure and pride that he had done so.  He would stroke her lower lips and
carress and kiss her breasts before and after going to bed.  He would reach
between them to put his finger where her lips met to add those rubbings to
the ones his phallus was giiving her.  Once, he even withdrew so that his
thumb was her only stimulation.  "Gretchen," he said, "sweet Gretchen come
for me." "I'm trying." Aside from pleasing him, the climax was a great
pleasure for her.  "Don't try.  Relax; feel." His phallus entered her
again. "Feel me in you.  Do you feel me fill you up for all your length?"
She felt, but did not answer.  "Now do you feel me just at your
entranceway?" "Yes, Dominus." "Feel that.  Feel my motion.  Feel that I'm
in you and moving in you." She felt his motion, felt his finger tickling
her entrance, felt the tension growing tighter.  "Oh," she said as the
spasms hit.  "And," Dominus said as he began moving faster, "I feel you
clutch around me.  So sweet, You are so sweet. . . .  Ah!" And she felt him
pulse with her.  "Sweet Gretchen," he repeated quietly into her ear as he
lay on her.  "Soft Gretchen.  I love everything about you." That night,
when he rolled off her, he pulled her against him, She fell asleep hugged
in his arms.  At other times, the erect phallus would seem to take control
of his actions.  He would order her into bed and fall onto her immediately.
His entrance would hurt -- if much less than the first time -- and before
his strokes could arouse her, he would finish with a groan.  Twice he made
her bend over with her hands on the bed and her legs straight together.  He
would drive into her from behind.  He gripped the sides of her hips and
moved her to his pleasure before collapsing on her back.  Times like those,
he either didn't use any name for her -- they were alone in the room after
all -- or he called her "serva" -- as if any slave woman would do.  He was
not always ready when she undressed him.  He might demand the attention of
her hands or -- more often -- her mouth.  Usually, when her kisses and
sucking had aroused him, he would lay her down and enter her immediately.
Once, he had her continue sucking until he discharged in her mouth. 
"Swallow it, Serva.  It is the essence of your Dominus.  It is the most
important food you will ever receive." The next night, however, he stroked
her until she was ready -- even eager -- for his entrance.  He enjoyed her
climax and praised her for it.  "My sweet Gretchen.  You enjoy this don't
you.  If only you knew how good it feels to be appreciated." For weeks,
Gretchen was a kitchen slave by day and a bed companion by night.  Then her
blood came around again.  She warned Phyllis, who handed her over to the
housekeeper for cleaning duty.  As Phyllis suggested, she warned the
Dominus that night.  He responded by lying down.  "Come, Gretchen.  Your
lower mouth is no longer available to me.  Use your proper mouth." She did,
sucking his phallus until it was hard.  "Use your tongue," he said.  "Lick
all around the head of my phallus." She did that until he stiffened.  Then
he grasped her head and moved her mouth back and forth on his phallus until
he pulled her tight against his groin and erupted.  She was choking when he
let her go.  "Remember to swallow it all," he said.  She tried.  She felt a
little leak out onto her chin, but he made no objection.  He told her the
chest which held extra sheets, and she rolled herself into one of them on
the floor.  It was a harder bed, if a cooler one, than she had slept in
since she first came into that room to serve him.  The next night, she met
him naked as always.  She suspected that he would tell her to resume her
breechclout, but followed orders until they were revoked.  Instead, he
pointed out a small flask of oil to her.  "Use that to annoint my phallus."
She did until he was hard, and then kept on until he told her to stop. 
"Now," he said, "lean over on the bed like you did before.  Spread your
legs." From right behind her, he repeated, "Spread your legs more." She
felt him touch her on the anus., and tensed.  "Relax, Serva.  The first
pain was necessary.  Pain now is not.  Relax and this will feel pleasantt."
It felt, if less painful than the fiery invasion of their picnic, decidedly
unpleasant.  He gripped her hips in his hands and pulled her back as he
pressed inward.  When he had filled her, she felt as though she had to
visit the outhouse immediately.  She resisted that feeling while he stroked
within her.  "So tight," he said.  "You are clasping me so tightly." She
was clasping the dung she would otherwise have sprayed over him.  When he
finally pulsed within her, she grabbed her tunica and struggled into at as
she ran to the door.  She barely reached the outhouse in time, and she felt
as if she were bleeding there.  When she returned and rolled herself in the
shet again, he was already asleep.  She learned a few nights later that he
was going to return to the summer house the next day.  "Do you want me t be
ready at first light?" she asked.  "You will stay here." "But Decinna. . .
." "My daughter is a pure young noblewoman.  I don't thinik a bedslave is a
proper companion for her.  Look, Gretchen, this is in your interest.  Your
Domina is no longer appreciative of my attentions.  She knows I use other
women; she doesn't necessarily like those other women.  At the house, you
would be in her power.  I so much enjoy being appreciated, that I don't
want her to have you lashed." So Gretchen stayed behind.  The housekeeper,
the cook, and the cook's two helpers were really more slaves than the
farmhouse required in the absence of the family.  On the other hand, nobody
was going to assign the Dominus's favorite to field work.  Gretchen and the
housekeeper cleaned the entire family and guest quarters over two days. 
After that, Gretchen handled the garden for Phyllis.  When her bleeding
stopped, Phyllis taught her how to cook the food that they were serving
now. With the Dominus gone, that was mostly porridge and turnips with salt
and the occasional onion for seasoning.  There wasn't a great deal to
learn. Finally, the Dominus sent orders for Gretchen to report to the house
in Rome.  A burly field hand walked along with her.  Even so, her revealing
tunica attracted some male attention.  The field hand was threat enough for
slaves and freedmen; Gretchen had to dance out of the grasp of soldiers. 
The journey was both toil and danger, but she gloried in the feeling that
her Dominus cared about her.  He had sent for her.  She wasn't only a
serva; she was his Gretchen.  When she reached the house, Domincus told her
to bathe.  She hadn't eaten, but the bath was a great comfort.  She was
stretched out in the bath when Octavian walked in.  She covered herself
with her hands.  "Don't bother," said the lad.  "Owners are entitled to see
what they own." "I am your father's slave.  If you touch me, I shall tell
him." "I am your Dominus's son.  As one of his heirs, I am entitled to
touch his property.  We shall see." And with that threat, he walked out. 
Gretchen exited the bath as soon as she could.  She dried herself and
donned her breechclout and revealing tunica.  She sought food and shelter
in the kitchen.  On the summer afternoon, it was too hot in there for
family to be likely to wander in.  The food available, however, was quite
sparse.  She served supper again in her tunica without the breechclout. 
Octavian ate with the Dominus, making Gretchen grateful that the oil lamps
gave so little light.  In the heat, they took seperate couches.  In the
presence of his son, Dominus kept his hands off her, but his eyes were
appreciative.  Ocatvian's eyes were oppressive.  When the meal was over,
Gretchen ate her fill.  Then she returned the dishes and the few remains of
the food to the kitchen.  She proceded immediately to Dominus's room.  She
stood naked for some time -- worrying that Octavian might trespass --
before Dominus entered.  "Gretchen," he said, "so good to see you.  I have
somethig for you to do, but first. . . .  " He held her tight and petted
her all over before she could remove his clothes.  When they were down on
the bed together, he sucked on her nipple and stroked the entry to her
tunnel until she reached for his pahallus.  His first strokes within her
started her on the upward spiral.  When she spasmed, he followed.  "Oh,
Gretchen," he said.  "It means so much to be appreciated.  It means so much
that you enjoy this too." He began to kiss her breasts again.  Then broke
away.  "But I have something serious to discuss." "I enjoy being
appreciated.  I enjoy your body.  However, I have duties.  My son,
Octavian, your 'Dominus Octavian,' has not had the pleasure that I have
had. And, being a young man, he needs it even more.  I think you have
learned much this last month.  Octavian is in his room just down the hall.
Go to him.  First give him what he wants.  Then, gently, without ever
taking the lead, teach him some of what you have learned.  He'll be ready
every night; I can remember being that age.  But your mouth can make him
ready a second time in the night.  some nights, you'll come here first. 
I'll tell you when.  Those nights, like tonight, you'll wash yourself off
and go on to his room.  Other nights, you'll go to him only.  "I trust you
to both satisfy him and educate him."

   The end The Ownership Society Uther Pendragon nogardnePrethU@gmail.com
   My thanks to Denny for editing this