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- Romanesque Loli: A smut story of historical proportions.
- CHAPTER I
- The war had been going on for almost a decade now, and many Roman families had been torn apart by the violence. Only time would tell if the Mediterraneans would gain the upper hand in this bloody conflict or lose their Empire to the Germanic hordes.
- Daphne was lucky. The daughter of a high-ranking (and more importantly, in the Emperor's pocket) senator, she enjoyed the benefits of being in a political family as oppose to a military one. As far as she was concerned the war was a world away and it's only negative outcome for her were increased grape and date prices, treats which she enjoyed more than a few times a day. As a result, her 13 year-old frame was voluptuous and shapely beyond its years.
- She was blonde, almost golden, headed and had eyes that made emeralds looks like coal. She had been born into one of Rome's oldest and wealthiest families. As a result, she often wore a crown of flowers and greenery around her head as a symbol of her undeniable fairness. She paraded around her quarters and estate in general, pretending to order young men off to war (as her father did) and sent her families' servants and slaves off to do this or that chore or errand (and they eagerly obliged)
- Life was good for young Daphne, and indeed she wondered how anything could be better.
- Everything would change one fateful afternoon, as a sizable but stealthy detachment of Germanic warriors found their way over the border wall and into the heart of a soon-to-fall Rome.
- And it all happened on Daphne's 13th birthday.
- CHAPTER II
- Daphne awakened lazily one warm summer afternoon in her immaculate bed-chambers and groggily rolled out of her silk and wool covers. She had gone to bed early last night; or at least “retired to her quarters” as she quoted, and her mother knew just what that meant, and so left her daughter to her own naughty devices.
- In truth Daphne had gone away to explore her growing body and budding sexuality. Puberty was hitting her like a trebuchet volley, and she enjoyed everything about it. She didn't dose off until well after midnight, and had managed to pull off several mind blowing, body-rocking orgasms with her curious fingers in both front and back privates.
- Daphne did not have a boyfriend at the moment, but if she so desired she could have pointed a finger at virtually any young male in Rome and made him hers, whether there were objections or not.
- But Daphne didn't like that idea. She waited patiently for Mr. Right.
- After all, there might be plenty of fish in the sea, but that meant nothing for someone so far inland and virtually landlocked.
- It would take the whole farm to satisfy the needy, spoiled lass.
- As Daphne slipped into her white and purple robes, her mother knocked on her doors and was allowed in.
- At about that moment, someone else had slipped into the area: a group of rough looking, fierce Germans and they had breached the courtyard gates without a hitch.
- Daphne's 40-something mother noticed something suspicious out of the corner of her eye, and knew instantly something was wrong.
- “Gods, who are those ruffians?!” She said cautiously under her breath, not wanting to frighten her impressionable daughter but she was terrified herself. She dashed off to the window to close the blinds, not wanting to give the intruders any leads, but just as she drew the curtains close one of the raiders looked over and pointed.
- The gig was up.
- The mother, now visibly distressed, moved to her daughter and grabbed her by the wrist.
- “Come now, dear, we must leave to high ground. It's not safe for us here anymore...”
- Daphne was confused, and more than a little scared. What was she talking about? What did she see in that familiar courtyard, here she had spent countless hours and day lounging and reading from the far libraries of the known world, and of course eating some of the Empire's finest fare. This was her home; she was always safe here; that's what her father had tried so hard to ensure with sending countless soldiers off to far-away lands so the enemy would step foot in the home-lands.
- It all made no sense, and Daphne would soon learn just how terrible war was.
- “Mother, whatever do you mean? Who did you see out there?!” Daphne swallowed and spoke as her mom rushed her to the exit, away from the men who seemed intent on doing the females harm.
- At about that moment, the two women stopped dead in their tracks as they heard a ruckus just outside the chamber doors. They heard a few screams, a clanging of metal, and eventually a pool of thick, crimson blood pooled form underneath the ornate wooden door.
- Mom turned whiter than her garb, and held her Daughter close with an iron grip that hurt the girl's wrist. She yanked out a small dagger from under her cloak, and held it forward as three men barged in with a loud “bang!” of a war-hammer on the wooden door.
- “Don't you dare touch my Daughter!” Exclaimed the mother, ready to make a last stand for her flesh and blood's defense. She sounded terrified though, and was literally shaking with fear.
- The trio of men, clad in various leathers and furs, looked unlike anything young Daphne had seen, but her mother knew well the wrath of the Germanics through her time hearing council stories about their brutality and ability to do war. That was exactly why she was so startled. It was now or never to save her kin.
- The men glanced around the room, unfazed and almost ignorant of the Roman mother's pleas. The strolled forward casually, taking in the sights and sounds of what was a growing battle outside the window in the courtyard, which was now running red with blood and gore. The woman held out her blade with iron resolve, but one of the men stepped up, right until the point of the knife was inches from his scraggly neck.
- “You've never killed a man before, have you?” He said in broken Roman and with a gruff accent. His eyes were raw and green (similar to Daphne's but more grey) and his face bore more than one considerable scar.
- The mother, at a loss for words at this point, surrendered and lowered the blade meekly, hanging her head and defeat. Daphne hid behind her, looking with one eye at the 20-something male standing before her.
- A sinister smile appeared on his lips he and nodded his head.
- “I didn't think so, and today's not your day...” He mused, and proceeded to grab her arm and the second man joined in. They whisked her away, peeling her away from her distraught daughter. The frazzled woman pleaded and cried:
- “Do with me what you will, but please don't hurt my daughter!” She begged as they hauled her away. Goddess knows what would happen to her; and indeed Daphne would never see her again, not in this world at least.
- The third and final man, a portly fellow with a beat-up metal stein attached to his belt, strolled up to the meek Daphne and fingered her chin.
- “You have the look of your mother...” He said, and smiled down at her.
- “M...my daddy's a senator! He'll g...get you for this! He'll be home any minute now, with his army!” Proclaimed Daphne, stuttering in terror and hate for the men who had invaded her home and ransacked every settlement from here to Europa.
- “Is that so?” Said the barbarian. “Well, I sure hope he's not late to his own daughter's wedding!” With that, the brutish man pushed the teenager back onto her bead with enough force to topple a horse.
- Before she knew it, the man was on top of her, kissing her feverishly and grabbing at her clothes. Daphne kicked and screamed and peppered the man with weak, useless fists on his padded armor. She thought she was a goner, and knew what was going on, and couldn't stand the concept of losing her cherry like this. The man was heavy and oppressive, and smelled of wood-smoke and animal hides. She hated the aroma and would give the world to escape.
- “THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH, GREGOR! HANDS OFF THE GAL NOW!”
- A commanding voice bellowed from the door-way into the room and echoed off the caved walls flatly.
- The man, almost as if ordered, subsided the attack and stood up at attention, a sizable prick bulging in his woolen trousers. He cleared his throat and spoke, almost as taken aback as the girl he assaulted.
- “Sir, I, uh, was just following the accords of war, you of all people should understand.”
- “I understand we're in the middle of a conflict, but remember: I get first dibs on the spoils. Has that mead gotten to your head again?” Said the other man, his voice cool and cold.
- “Of course, sire. Shall I take my leave then?” Asked the drunken man.
- “Go join your comrades in the courtyard. They might need some cleanup work...And I'll see to it you are handsomely rewarded.” Said the leader.
- “Very well! Off I go!” And with that, the barbarian escorted himself out and closed the doors behind him, leaving only the two behind. A deafening, awkward silence filled the now quiet room.
- Daphne, while shaken, almost felt like thanking the man who had saved her, but she soon realized she might have been out of the pan, and into the fire.
- The man cleared his throat, and walked forward.
- “You'll have to excuse my second hand man back there. He's a particular brute, yes?” Said the stoic German man and sat down beside Daphne, whom crawled away from him, fearing for her safety once again.
- The man chuckled, and removed his cape and heavier garments, getting comfortable and easy on the soft, luxurious bed.
- “Of all the people in the world I'm the last one you should be worried about.”
- Daphne was confused. As far as she was concerned, he was just like the rest of the pagan invaders, maybe even worse as he seemed to be their leader (he gave off an aura of leadership and charge-taking)
- “What ever do you mean? You're...not going to hurt me?” She mildly spoke and examined the man with cautious yet curious eyes.
- Taking off his wolf-pelt headdress, Daphne finally got a good look at the man, and he ironically reminded her of her father.
- “Despite my appearance and the behavior of my subordinates, I'm a hard yet fair man. But you'll learn this soon enough.” For a foreigner, his Roman was quite articulate, even containing traces of an accent. He might not be as dumb and barbaric as Daphne first thought: a madman, yes, but a smart madman.
- “Long story short, you and your mother's life will be spared; as long as I command this army that is. So don't get any clever ideas with that dagger on the ground.” The barbarian picked up the blade and tucked it away into a sporran.
- A small but meaningful glimmer of hope crept into Daphne's face. They weren't going to kill mom? I mean, she was never going to be the same woman after today's events, but the men seemed merciful enough to spare the rest of her.
- “What's your goal here, barbarian?” Daphne asked, getting somehow more laid back around the man now that she wasn't about to be raped.
- The man chortled and looked into the teen's eyes.
- “I'm not as barbaric as you Romans make me out to be. And you may call me Odoacer.”
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