Author: fembuck
Fandom: Spartacus: War of the Damned
Pairing: Saxa/Belesa
Rating: R
Words: 2,221
Summary: A secret desire of Belesa's comes to light, and Saxa is determined to see her fantasy become reality.
xxx
"Juno's cunt," Belesa exclaimed softly as she pulled a fine Roman dress from the bottom of Saxa's pack.
She had been searching through the bag looking for a replacement whetstone for Saxa, who had been complaining that the one she was using was dull, but as her eyes began to scan the expensive material in her hands, her search for the whetstone was forgotten.
Belesa lifted the bundle of a cloth a few times, testing the weight of it in her hands.
Her brows furrowed.
The dress was strangely heavy.
Interest further piqued, Belesa began to straighten out the material, curious to discover the source of its heft.
A minute later, she discovered the answer to her question.
The dress had been wrapped protectively around three sheathed knives.
She shook her head and smiled.
The dress had probably cost more than she had, and Saxa had been using it to keep her knives from rattling about in her bag.
"Where did you come upon this?" Belesa asked curiously, turning her eyes from the finely crafted garment in her hands to Saxa.
Saxa looked up from the old whetstone she was using on her blade.
She ran her eyes over the dress in Belesa's hands.
"Sinuessa," she replied offhandedly.
She lowered her gaze back to the dagger in her lap and began to move the whetstone over it again.
"Of all the items you could have made your own, why take this?" Belesa asked, draping the dress carefully over her forearm before rising to her feet and walking over to where Saxa was seated. "And having taken possession of it, why have I never been granted the pleasure of laying eyes upon you in it?" she further inquired, lowering herself down to the ground beside Saxa a few seconds later.
"You wish to see me in dress?" Saxa asked, her lips curving up slightly as she laid her dagger and the whetstone aside in favor of focusing her attention on her woman. "My clothes do not please?" she continued, glancing down at the mixture of cloth and leather that presently covered the parts of her body that needed covering.
"Oh, clothes please very much," Belesa purred as she placed her hand on Saxa's bare thigh and then slowly drew it up and under the blonde's short skirt.
She dipped her head down and placed a gentle kiss against Saxa's shoulder.
"But I would not object to seeing, and removing, alternate garb from body," Belesa continued, suggestively brushing her fingers against the thin strip of cloth that covered Saxa's sex before she pulled her hand from beneath the blonde's skirt.
Saxa shifted slightly as Belesa drew her hand away. She missed its presence between her legs, but she did not object to Belesa pulling away because she knew that soon enough the Thracian's talented fingers would be upon her again.
"And when dress is gone? What you do with body laid before your eyes?" Saxa asked, her voice curiously playful, as she turned to gaze at Belesa.
Belesa eyes became hooded and her lips parted, the mere thought of what she would do to Saxa making her slightly breathless. She had once held fantasy of having her way with finely dressed women since sexual desire had become known to her. She had touched herself thinking about brushing aside all of the pretty little things on their fancy dressing tables, and then pushing them up against it. She stroked herself and imagined ripping the expensive fabrics that adorned them and touching the bodies beneath, stripping them of the pretense and affectation they shrouded themselves in. She longed to show them for what they really were, women, no different, no better than her. As their bodies arched and undulated, desperate for more of the pleasure she was providing, they would see that they were victims to the same desires and weakness of those they claimed superiority over. The thought of commanding instead of being commanded always quickly and wetly driving her to completion.
The thought of Saxa beneath her, half-clothed in silk, straining and moaning with pleasure, aroused Belesa far more than thoughts of having a Roman woman ever had or could have, however. The thought of tearing that fancy dress to shreds before having her woman, in their bed, in their tent, as a free woman able to live and love as she chose, was an aphrodisiac more powerful than arugula, raw oysters, cannabis seeds, pomegranate juice mixed with wine, or anything else the Roman's used to harden their pricks or moisten their cunts.
"You have fantasy of taking woman clothed in fine silks," Saxa purred knowingly, easily able to read the signs of desire and arousal in Belesa. "Who put desire there? Was it Domina? Did you dream to plunder her cunt?" she asked.
Belesa's eyes closed and a little shudder ran through her body.
"No," she breathed out a moment later, her gaze serious when her eyes opened again.
"Apologies," Saxa murmured upon hearing Belesa's tone and seeing her expression.
She leaned to the side and pressed her lips softly to Belesa's cheek.
"Words came before thought," she whispered apologetically, realizing the words she intended as jest might have touched upon painful memories.
"Apology is well-received but unnecessary," Belesa said softly before pressing a kiss to Saxa's lips.
Her former Domina, Titiana, had been beautiful, but Belesa had held no love or desire for her. Her hand had been used too much for Titiana's pleasure for Belesa to fantasize about bringing her more.
Honestly, Saxa's words had not truly distressed her. The picture they had painted in her mind of her taking Titiana with desire had simply disconcerted her, momentarily dousing the fire imaginings of having Saxa in such a way had been stoking.
"It was a friend of the serpent I served who gave birth to fantasy," Belesa continued softly a moment later, answering Saxa's previous question. "She was beautiful, proud and dismissive as most Romans, but she was less vile than Titiana by virtue of her not being my mistress. In some way she seemed to recognize that we were people. She occasionally thanked us when we served her or offered us a smile. It was an unusual amount of kindness, by Roman standards. Still, she held same expectation of us as all Romans, to fall swiftly to command. Beneath mask of civility, she stood a Roman, and we, nothing but slaves."
"Did fantasy become real?" Saxa inquired as she threaded their fingers together.
"No," Belesa breathed, "Which is perhaps why she was able to remain object of desire," she continued thoughtfully. "If she had ever commanded touch, I would never again have been able to dream of giving her pleasure, having been forced to provide it."
Saxa nodded as she stroked the back of Belesa's hand with her thumb soothingly.
"Want you to make fantasy real now?" she asked a moment later, reaching for the dress with her free hand and dragging it over to her rest in her lap.
Belesa could never have truly enjoyed her fantasy becoming reality when she was bound by title of slave, but the thought of fucking a woman dressed in the finery of a Roman mistress clearly still appealed to her, and presently it could be seen to fruition without something being taken from Belesa in fulfilling of her desire.
"I lay back," Saxa continued, looking up from the dress to meet Belesa's eyes. "Give you all you want," she purred, her lips curving up playfully. "This time, woman in fine dress will yield to demands."
"You? Obey?" Belesa asked, an amused smile touching her lips as she lifted a dark eyebrow incredulously at Saxa.
"Not often," Saxa breathed out, "But for you," she continued, holding Belesa's eyes intimately with her own, her words and look drawing a luminous smile to Belesa's lips before the Thracian swayed towards Saxa and brought their lips together.
Belesa's fingers brushed against the material of the dress as she pulled back from Saxa, and her lips curled up wickedly as her mind filled with thoughts of Saxa and sex once more.
"Put on the dress," Belesa whispered, her voice rough with arousal, as she clutched the dress in her hand and then lifted it up for Saxa to grasp. "Thighs moisten, but I would have you appear in guise of proper lady before satisfying cunt."
Saxa grinned at her widely; her expression both naughty and affectionate, and then she took the dress from Belesa's hands.
"Yes, Domina," she murmured.
A soft, wanting sound escaped from Belesa at the sound of her words, and Saxa's smile grew larger.
Belesa lifted her hand, cupping Saxa's jaw in it as drew her thumb contemplatively over Saxa's lips.
"What?" Saxa inquired, intrigued by the deviously thoughtful expression on Belesa's face.
"Nothing," Belesa breathed out, "I but wait for you to obey and replace leather with silk," she continued, and the contemplative look left her eyes, though the mischievous glint in them remained.
Saxa watched her carefully for a moment, and then shrugged, and stood up to change.
Whatever Belesa was up to, she would find out soon enough.
As Saxa began methodically stripping out of her clothes, Belesa stood and walked back over to Saxa's pack, allowing her own dress to slip from her shoulders before she crouched and began rummaging around inside of the bag again, this time in search of an item she was well acquainted with.
"No more dresses in there," Saxa commented to Belesa's back as she slipped the dress on.
"I do not seek clothes but accessories," Belesa replied lightly, smiling to herself as she located what she had been searching for, carefully wrapped up in cloth.
"No broaches or necklaces either," Saxa replied, making the final adjustments necessary to the dress as Belesa rose to her feet, her back still to Saxa.
"Those are not the sort of accessories I sought," Belesa replied, looking down at the bundle of cloth in her hand as Saxa sashayed towards her.
Saxa pressed her body against Belesa's back when she reached her, her eyes closing contently as she drew her fingers down Belesa's bare arm, luxuriating in the feel of her soft, smooth skin before she linked their fingers together.
"Show treasure, Bärli," Saxa murmured, resting her chin lightly on Belesa's shoulder so that she could see what was in her woman's hand.
A small smile touched Belesa's lips as she drew her right hand away from Saxa so that she could open the cloth and reveal the leather phallus nestled within.
Saxa's lips curved up at the sight of it. They didn't use the toy often, but when they did she had always been the one to wear it. She had no problem also being on the receiving end of it, however. In fact, the thought of Belesa filling her so completely appealed to her greatly, and as her eyes traced the length of the leather shaft, a shiver of excitement ran through her body.
"I like this fantasy," Saxa purred, dipping her head down to kiss Belesa's bare shoulder, needing her lips as well as her hands on the Thracian's flesh as her arousal mounted.
"You will like it more in a short while," Belesa promised, unceremoniously dropping the cloth the phallus had been wrapped in to the floor so that she could begin securing the harness.
Saxa laughed at Belesa's words, certain of their truth.
"I help," Saxa rasped, her voice low, rough and heavy with arousal as she reached around Belesa to aid the brunette in attaching the straps of the harness.
Once the straps were secure the phallus was nestled in place, Saxa couldn't resist giving the harness a little tug, knowing well from her times wearing it how pleasurable it would be for Belesa.
"I knew you wouldn't be good," Belesa groaned, her hips helplessly arching as Saxa tugged again, making one of the leather straps holding the phallus in place move against her increasingly slick, lower lips in an absolutely delicious way.
"I am in dress," Saxa whispered, giving the harness another little tug. "As commanded."
"You twist words intent, following the letter but ignoring the spirit with which they were spoken," she breathed out, wrapping her hand around Saxa's wrist before tugging it away from her. "You," she pronounced, turning around so that she could cup Saxa's face in her right hand, "are meant to lay back and take it," she declared, angling her hips forward so that the phallus brushed between Saxa's thighs. "Not to ride from above as conquering warrior."
"But I am conquering warrior," Saxa pointed out with a smile.
"Not tonight," Belesa replied, fingering the material of the dress adorning Saxa's body.
Saxa grinned at her in response, and then closed her eyes, concentrating on schooling her features into an expression more befitting of the role she was to play.
"Yes, Domina," Saxa murmured a few moments later, looking as contrite and submissive as she was capable of – which was not very.
"Close enough," Belesa purred through a smile, and then she tugged Saxa towards her, kissing her deeply before she grinned and began to tug Saxa over to the furs that served as their bed, intent on finally turning fantasy into reality.
The End