Author's Notes Back to Callia&Cassius - although no one gets pregnant in this chapter, there IS mention of it. So, fair warning if that’s not your thing.
Scene 01: Callia - Sex? No.
Scene 02: Cassius - Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Callia - Sex? Yes.
It was her third, and probably final, bath of the day.
Callia could finally relax. Her day was supposed to be over, and it had been a good day. Every inch of her body had been used, and physically, she was exhausted. But her mind would not stop.
She'd slept in a bed. That had never happened before, at least not in the part of her life that she could remember. She'd woken up with Cassius wrapped tightly around her body. He was kissing her neck while he slept. He confused her beyond her wildest imaginings. Sometimes he did things that were so strange to her, so foreign that she couldn't wrap her head around it.
First, his kisses. No man had ever kissed her before, but that didn't confuse her that much. Men liked to have their mouths on her body, and they liked for her to have her mouth on their bodies. So it made logical sense that he could be aroused by their mouths touching. After all, Cassius was aroused by strange things. She accepted that as part of who he was.
Second, the fact that he would be angry about other men touching her. That's what whores were for after all, but it made sense to some part of her that if men had to get his permission that meant he owned her. Men liked to own beautiful things. Everyone told her she was beautiful. Thus, it made sense that he wanted to own her.
Third on the list of "Confusing Things About Cassius" that she was composing in her head was that he'd wanted her to sleep in his bed. This is where things started to hurt her head. She understood that he'd wanted to use her body when he arrived home, but he could have chained her to his bedpost. He could have told her to sleep on the floor like she was supposed to. It had occurred to her that maybe he had wanted someone to catch her disobeying her father's rules so that she would be punished, but Cassius wouldn't have been home to watch her be punished, so what would he gain from that?
Fourth. He hadn't used her when he came home. He hadn't even woken her. He must have picked her up and put her in his bed, because she was positive she'd fallen asleep on the floor. She woke up in his bad with his arms around her, and he wasn't inside her. He hadn't been inside her - she would have felt it. She would have still felt it in the morning. This is what was really prying at her mind. It seemed strange to her. She couldn't imagine that being huddled over someone else's body could have been a comfortable way for him to sleep, or why he would want to share that exquisitely soft bed with anyone. He could have stretched out with all of the warm blankets all to himself, but instead he was rolled half on top of her.
That's when she realized that she must have done something wrong. She must have moved in her sleep, gotten in his way. Maybe he had placed her somewhere else and she'd moved, and then she interrupted his sleep.. Except he hadn't been angry in the morning. At least, not at her. He'd been preoccupied, but he'd kept her in bed and fed her from his own plate before sending her to Father.
She sank down under the water as she realized she was wasting her time. Trying to understand her oldest brother was an exercise in futility. The other four were easy to understand. So was father. She knew exactly what it was they wanted from her, and she'd been trained on how to give it to them. She also knew that her life meant nothing to them. Atticus liked to tease her about it while he fucked her, remind her that any day could be the day that one of them killed her. That no one would miss her. When she was younger, that used to make her cry. He'd enjoyed that. But now she was old enough to accept it as a fact of life.
/Do you think I'd let that happen?/
Would Cassius miss her when she was gone? Whenever she remembered his words from that day, her belly did something funny. It felt like, birds and butterflies dancing inside her. It made her smile. She didn't have a name for that feeling.
Fear was when you thought someone might kill you, or hurt you worse than you could handle. Happiness was the feeling of having a cock inside you. Sadness was when the other slaves in the cells cried themselves to sleep. Pain was when you were being beaten. Sympathy was when you saw someone else hurt or cry.
Those were the only emotions she knew.
She didn't have a name for what thinking of Cassius made her feel. And there was no one she could ask.
She stood to ask someone to dry her body, but before she could ring the bell, the door swung open. Galla, the old woman in charge of cleaning and prepping the whores for clients looked grim faced.
"Sweetheart." She paused, and Callia was puzzled at the sympathy apparent in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Cassius has asked for you again. Come."
The birds and butterflies in her stomach dive bombed, and she turned away from Galla to hide her smile.
Whatever this feeling was, she enjoyed it.
"Don't bother chaining her," Cassius instructed as he slipped back into his bath. "I don't want to have to get up again."
The tub had already had to be rinsed free of blood once. It wasn't his blood. It had just been that kind of night.
Callia was clean and naked. When her hair was dry it was closer to blonde, but now it was dripping wet and looked far redder in the firelight. It felt down nearly to her tiny little waist, just where he liked to hold when he was fucking her from behind. He could see that she was cold, her slight little body trembled as she knelt by his bed. Her pink nipples were hard and pebbled. She kept her eyes on the floor like a good little girl.
His cock was throbbing, painfully hard under the hot water as he studied her, took inventory of the damage he'd done to her perfect skin. His little sister was far too beautiful to be at the mercy of his cruel hands. He was supposed to look after her. Protect her. He was her fucking brother. Instead he violated her, abused her, fucked her in a way that he knew was a aberration. But when she smiled at him, looked up at him with those big fucking blue-green eyes so full of trust when he spilled inside her.. Being with her felt like the only clean, pure thing he'd ever done.
She was fourteen years younger than he was; though she was old enough (by law) to marry, most good families would keep a girl her age home for a few more years before sending her off to her husband. At least until they were certain she could safely bear a child. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, and he could feel the jolt of heat in his cock - just from the mere thought of her little tits swelling, her belly growing round with his son. It was something he'd never dreamed of. Something he never knew he wanted.
Something he knew he couldn't have.
"Come, Callia. Sit by me."
She kept her eyes lowered as she did, perched on the side of the tub, close enough for him to touch her. He stroked her thigh lazily and she stared into the water. He wondered what she thought when she was quiet, how her mind worked when she waited for him to speak.
"Are you hurt?" She whispered. Her voice was so low he almost didn't hear her. She shivered as his fingers trailed the inside of his thigh, and he closed his eyes at the her soft little gasp as his fingers brushed her pretty little cunt.
"No, Callie." He kissed to outside of her thigh. "It wasn't my blood."
Her shoulders relaxed. "Good."
"Would it bother you if I was hurt?" He rested his face against her hip, chin on her thigh as he traced light circles on her slit with his finger tips. He could smell her skin, her soap, the lotions his slaves had rubbed on her body. He could smell her sweet little cunt.. His face was so close. Close enough to reach out his tongue and taste her, if that was something he desired. It was something he'd never done. Something he thought submissive. Distasteful. But more than once he'd found himself alone in his bed, fist around the length of his cock imagining what his sister's cunt would taste like as she came.
"It would bother me very much." Her voice was thick, and when he looked up at her, her eyes were wet and she was biting her lip. Confusion was apparent on her face, though he had no idea what part of that exchange had confused her. But then, Callia was almost as strange as he was.
She was quiet tonight. Well, she was always quiet. Tonight she was quieter than usual. She stared at him as she bathed him and washed his hair. Her hands slid gracefully over his entire body.. Everywhere except his cock. When she reached for it, he slapped her hand away.
When he was done and dried, he pointed to his bed. "Bend over the foot board, Callia."
She ducked her head and obeyed, positioning her body so that her legs were spread just enough that he could see her tiny, pink cunt. She stood on his tiptoes, her ass presented perfectly. She looked.. Perfect. But not for what he had in mind.
"Feet flat on the floor. Grip the rail so you don't fall."
When he had her like her wanted her, tense, unsure, afraid.. He stroked her ass. Softly. He wanted her off guard. When she finally relaxed against his hand and moaned softly at the gentle touch, it was time.
He didn't hesitate. He heard the sharp crack of flesh against flesh before he felt the hot, stinging pain in his hand. She cried out, in pain as much as surprise, as she sagged against the bed. She whimpered, and his cock jerked when the whimper was followed by a sniffle. He didn't give her time to catch her breath. The next slap was harder; it just barely overlapped the last. His stomach tightened as he studied her ass, so perfectly round and tight. Her smooth, soft skin was still marred from the bruises he'd left with his cane, and now the left side of her ass was beautifully, painfully red from his hands.
He hit her again. And again. And again. Each time watching the red area get larger. He lost himself in his aching palm, it would probably be bruised tomorrow. He was hitting her too hard, and he knew it but.. Her cries stoked him higher, and when he crouched beside her to see the tears on her cheeks and the pain in her eyes, the part of the world he tried to anchor himself in started to slip away. He was losing his head.
He struck her again. He couldn't stop. Every single inch of her round little ass was swollen and red. So were her thighs, her hips. In places the red was tinged with purple. He struck her again. This time his hand hit his baby sister's sweet little cunt and the last modicum of control he'd managed to hold on to fell away when his palm came away wet. He shoved two fingers deep inside her pussy, his eyes open but unseeing when he realized that she was soaked. So fucking wet, for him, after everything he'd done to her. He gripped her waist in his hands, pulled her ass against his hips. He didn't fuck her. He just pressed himself against her, hearing her breathless cries as his body ground against the raw, swollen welts on her ass.
He could feel the heat pouring off her skin, and he was losing it. He couldn't see her, didn't know what he-
"Cal. I need.. Oh Gods, I need to hurt you Callie. You need to go." His words were frantic against her throat. He knew this feeling, this sick, uncontrollable lust to hurt, to break, to destroy. "When I let go of you, little sister, you run."
He let go.
And she was gone.
He heard the click of the door, but the way his head was pounding it sounded so quiet.
When he opened his eyes, he realized that it hadn't been the door at all. It had been his trunk. Callia was on her hands and knees, crawling back toward him. Caught between her lips was his whip. She raised up on her knees in front of him, offering him his favorite toy.. The one he knew she hated the most. Something inside him broke when he looked into her eyes. Pain and fear.. But trust shined through both - along with another emotion he refused to even let himself name in his dreams.
And it was over. The hazy cloud of killing rage, of blood lust, didn't leave. It never did. But she, Callia, had pushed it back down to manageable. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the whip and studied it as Cal released it from her teeth. He looked down at her, his Callia.. His girl.
He tossed it across the room behind him.
And then his arms were under hers and she was in the air, and in one more second she was spread out on his bed.
He took her feet in his hands, spreading her legs wider before he laid on top of her body. His mouth hit hers and he could taste the salt on her lips from her tears. He kissed her mouth, her sweet little button of a nose and then her neck. He bit at her collarbone until he felt her hips rock up to meet him.
Then he moved lower. He tasted every inch of his little sister's body, her tight little nipples, the bottoms of her breasts. He trailed his tongue along the curve of her waist and dragged his teeth along her hipbones. His fingers slid between the lips of her little cunt and found her burning hot and soaking wet. He would taste her tonight. He would hold her little hips against him as he made her cum against his mouth.
He worked his fingers deeper into her hole, looking up past her breasts to see her watching him. She looked unnerved, completely unsure of how to respond and he fucking loved it. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he brought his fingers to his lips.
Her lips parted, and then her mouth dropped open as she watched him slowly lick her juices off his fingers. Her hips rocked off the bed, up towards him, but his eyes closed as his lips wrapped around the tip of his finger.
He jerked her legs open, as wide as he could get them, and stared down at her wet little pussy. He kissed the insides of her thighs, his cock pounding at the giggle she sounded when his cheek grazed her thigh.
"Tickles." She whimpered and he smiled at her. His cheek was rough, he hadn't shaved. He rubbed his face against her thigh just to feel her body tremble under his. He kissed her round, tiny little clit. It was wet against his lips and he licked them before he trailed his tongue up her slit. He could feel his own hands shaking against her thighs, and he pressed his thumb against her hole as his lips circled her little button. Her hips arched up to meet his face and he let them, savoring the taste of her teenage cunt against his mouth.
She writhed against him, but he held her in place. Pulled her legs over his shoulders and laced his fingers together over her belly, pinning her against the bad and against his mouth as his tongue worked inside her hot little cunt. She grinded against him, the same way she did when he was fucking her and when he heard that strangled cry - the one he'd come to crave, he knew.
He did not taste her gently. He sucked and he bit, slapped the hell out of her sensitive little clit while he fucked her with his tongue. He kissed her tiny little nub with more force than he had ever kissed her mouth while he forced his fingers in her wet, willing hole. And when he heard that cry.. he felt and he tasted his little sister cum, screaming, with his teeth on her clit and his tongue in her cunt. It was better than he'd ever imagined. His cock throbbed painfully, heavy and aching between her legs, and he didn't -couldn't- give her the second she needed to recover.
He was deep inside her in one hard, forceful stoke and he couldn't stop. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her down to meet him as he drove inside her. He could barely see the blue of her eyes. She was begging like she knew how to speak only four words.
"Please fuck me, Cassius." Over and over, louder. Crying for him, screaming for him as his body pounded hers. He ached for her. Her fingers nails dug into his back and he hoped that he would have marks on his body like she had on hers, reminders of this night. This night, he had almost lost control. He still felt like he was losing control.
And then his teeth were against her ear, and he hated the words threatening to spill from his lips. "Callie, I-" Don't. Shut your fucking mouth. He wanted.. Her.
He gritted his teeth as he pulled away, leaving her sprawled on the mattress, her red-blonde hair wild around her face, her eyes half closed but focused only on him.
"My… m-my mouth, Cassius. Cum in my mouth."
He shook his head as he watched his cock pounding inside her raw, pink little pussy. "No."
No, tonight he would spill inside his sister's cunt. Never mind the fact that he knew nothing could come from it. The tea his father gave the whores every morning would prevent conception. But tonight he would cum inside her imagining a day when she was free and he was too. He hadn't realized it yet, but sometime tonight between the men he'd killed and the sister he loved he'd made a decision. She would not die here. And neither would he. Someday.. They would leave this place. Together.
He wrapped his hand around her throat, but softly, and sank on top of her body with his cock still inside her.
His words were quiet and soft against her ear, his balls heavy against her ass. "Would you give me a son, Callia?"
She froze underneath him and stared up at him with wild eyes. "You know - Father gives us -"
His cock jerked inside her. He was so fucking close. "No. I know. Not tonight."
He kissed the side of her cheek as he barely whispered words that would have them both killed. "If I could get us out of here.. Would you go with me? Would you leave this place with me, me mine? Love me, Callia, bear my children? Would you have me?"
He felt her answer in her body, saw it in her eyes before she even spoke. She pushed her hips against his and her lips brushed his so gently he might have missed it if he weren't so focused. He saw something flash in her eyes, a determined awareness. Enlightenment.
There was fire in her gaze when she nodded. "Yes."
A tension he hadn't known was there lifted and he dug his fingers into her little hips and felt her body tremble with his next stroke. She would cum for him again, this time as he filled her body with his seed.
It had never felt like this.
She felt like every single part of her body was on fire as he filled her. Every nerve felt raw, and there were tears building in her eyes as she got ready to cum again. The first time had been against his mouth, with his tongue inside her, something no one had done to her since she was a child. Cassius had done it better. And now his cock filled her, rough strokes that ripped her body apart, but made her feel so fucking alive.
His lips covered hers and caught her scream as her body exploded around him. So intense, so intense that she felt herself crying against his cheek. He licked away her tears as his cum spilled inside her cunt. She felt it, felt him jerk inside her. She knew the sound he made, and the way his body tensed and she found herself shivering around him, thinking about the day when he would be hers as much as she was his.
He collapsed on top of her, and she tried to move out from underneath him so he could lay comfortably. His arms snaked around her and pulled her back against his chest. One of his hands snaked down to her still shaking, overly sensitive cunt. He slapped her pussy hard as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her face.
"I wish you could sleep here."
She tensed. She should ask what she'd done wrong last time. So she'd never do it again.
"C-" She whimpered against his ongoing assault of her clit. "Cassius?"
"Hmm?" He sounded sleepy, she grinned. A silly grin that she couldn't exactly explain. She turned to face him, and just stared, smiling as she traced her finger down the bridge of his nose. She shouldn't have done it. He should have slapped her hand away. But he didn't. He just watched her through tired eyes. He looked.. Relaxed. It made the butterflies in her belly do funny things.
"When I slept in here, I didn't mean to crowd you. I didn't even know I moved."
He frowned. "You didn't move, Callie. You slept like a little rock."
"But.." She scrunched her nose. "You slept on top of me. I thought.."
"When I left, I intended to come home and fuck you until you couldn't stand up. But it was a long night. When I got home.. I just wanted to touch you while I slept." He sat up and pulled her close to him, his face so, so serious. "Listen to me Callie."
She tensed, trepidation building as she watched him.
"Nothing we said tonight can leave this room. You act like everything is normal. You be a good girl, like always." His fingers brushed over her breasts and he leaned down to suck her nipple into his mouth. When he pulled away he took her face in her hands. "When they want your cunt, you give it to them. You fuck them, you take whatever cock is stuck in your face. You're the perfect little whore Cal. Do whatever they tell you to do. And I will find a way to get us out of here."
She nodded, trembling as he pressed his lips to her belly.. She felt her cunt tighten when she replayed his words in her head. Someday, her flat little belly with would be full and swollen with his child. Her tits would be tight and round and he would still fuck her, still fill her cunt with his cock, and everyone who knew them.. Everyone who saw them would know that it was his baby she was carrying. Perhaps they wouldn't know she was his sister... but that didn't matter. Not her.