**Terms to remember: Rudis ~ double weighted wooden sword used for training, awarded upon retirement; Stola ~ A dress of a matron; Lanista ~ owner or manager of a ludus; Ludus ~ a gladiatorial school; Synthesis ~ a colorful decorative gown worn by both Roman men and women for; Patrician ~ the highest caste in Rome of the privileged, noble families; Not sure I have "domina" right but half of my inspiration was from media while the rest I did research.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Julia sat in her bedchamber, gripping her blue stola as her nerves danced on edge. She took a sip of wine... then a gulp to steady her nerves. Tonight she was going to do what she needed. Her husband Marcus, a lanista of one of Rome's finest Ludus, had been distant of late. She had given him a beautiful daughter but what he craved was a son to inherit his gladiatorial school. For the past 7 years Julia had failed but a friend made an improper yet sound suggestion.
"You live in a house full of virile young men," said Marcella. "Why not put one of them to good use?"
"Marcella," Julia admonished. "Are you suggesting I be unfaithful to my husband? With a slave??"
"I thought I was being clear?" Marcella smirked. She yawned and stretched as a house slave fanned her. A fly rested on her arm at which she swatted but it swiftly evaded her only to buzz in her ear. "I don't know how you can stand this heat it's unbearable! And the flies! I woke in the middle of the night almost choked by the heat."
Julia's face flushed with indignity. Men were unfaithful of course. She was taught that all of her life and for Marcella to suggest such a thing was...
"Oh don't be such a prude, Julia," Marcella grunted. "Even an Empress of Rome can have a bit of fun once in a while."
"I'm no empress," Julia snapped.
"You're definitely prettier than the one we have now."
Julia's throat tightened. She heard the banging of the rudis against each other in the training yard. She looked over to see all of her husband's gladiators partnered up and sparring. Their bronzed muscles grew taut and gleamed in the sun with the sweat of their labors. Julia would have been lying if she hadn't thought about it. She sometimes imagined, shamefully, in the bath that one of those strong brutes came and ravished her. Pressing her soft body against their battle hardened muscles...
"Marcus and I can have a son all on our own," Julia vehemently swore.
"Haven't you been trying the past 7 years?" Marcella wondered. Julia grew silent. Three years ago their efforts almost came to fruition. A boy. A beautiful yet small boy that lived for a week before dying. And lately she had been hearing Marcus may be thinking of divorce. He had been having secret meetings with her father and visiting with other patrician women.
"If anything at least you'll have some fun," Marcella shrugged, watching her friend softly.
So here was Julia, waiting for her gladiator to save her from ruin though if anyone found out about this then she would be more than ruined... Her body slave Judith led the house champion to her room through a secret passageway that not even Marcus knew about for he had inherited it from a distant uncle and never visited here. This villa was old and when Julia first came here she had spent a month of exploring.
Atticus was a rough Celt, brutish yet a finely sculpted man the gods must have taken their time with him. He had a cleft chin with sensual lips added with his savage physique made all the women in the stands moist whenever he walked into the arena. Unlike most of the gladiators, Atticus kept his hair long and wild to his broad shoulders. He had a few braids to keep him tied to his tribal savage roots. It shouldn't have had Julia's womb clenching in desire but...
Atticus wore nothing but a collar to signify his slave status as well as a cloth to hide his... manhood. Julia had never seen another naked man before. Marcus barely undressed for their love making (if one could call rutting for 3 minutes love making). The Celt's bronzed muscles gleamed with oil, she could smell his musk along with scented oils coming off him in waves making her tremble.
"Thank you, Judith," Julia took another gulp of wine to fortify herself. "You may leave us." The wine burned in her throat warming her belly as heat crept into her face. Her body slave left them with her eyes downcast leaving Julia alone with Atticus. The night ambience filled the silence as the air became thick with some sort of tension that made Julia weak in the knees.
"Domina," Atticus spoke softly. "You wished to see me?" His voice was rough like grating stones but deep and rich. When he roared in the arena the whole earth seemed to tremble. He was so reserved and subdued with a touch of arrogance that could not be whipped away. It had Julia's heart fluttering. She shook her head to snap herself out of it. She straightened up, taking on the mantle of mistress.
"I need you to perform a task for me," Julia wrung her hands drawing up every ounce of authority she could muster.
"I am happy to serve, domina," Atticus nodded.
"Do you have many siblings, Atticus? Brothers in particular?" Julia cleared her throat.
"I have 4 brothers, domina."
"And how many brothers did your father have?"
"Six, domina."
Perfect. She chose well. Julia would definitely conceive a son for her husband and he won't divorce her.
"Remove your clothes," Julia instructed. She saw the glimmer of a smirk on the gladiator's face. She held back her ire. Tonight was about duty. "I need you to help me conceive a son for my husband. We have been trying for years now but the last time..." Julia paused, her throat tight with the sudden wave of sorrow. She swallowed it hard then steeled herself for what was to come.