Ione

Slaves

Posts
189
Last visited
June 5
Player
Sara

About Ione

Prostitute at The Elysium

Custom Fields

Face Claim
Phoebe Dynevor
Location
Rome
Activity Level
Fast

Face Claim

Phoebe Dynevor
Location

Rome
Activity Level

Fast

Recent Posts

Mirror Mirror...

June 5

"I've practiced but..." She wrinkled her nose with a small smile. "I wouldn't say I'm proficient in cappuccinos...Nescafe instant I can do." And was all she drank. Black coffee made her world go round. But she took a skittish step back as he waved her help off, embarrassed and instead hurriedly moved to to the table he gestured towards. He joined her a moment later and she began to stack the spare cutlery from the seat opposite him, she presumed he'd be dining alone again. That was confirmed as he pulled out his fancy laptop and she gave it a google-eyed look.
"Hmm?" She asked, having missed his question and then frowned and followed his eyeline to the bruise peeping out of the sleeve of her work shirt. "Oh." She blinked and dropped the cutlery and napkin back down to the table with a clatter as she self-consciously tried to pull at the sleeve to cover it. Embarrassed, she started to gather the spare implements again with a frown and a blush. "It is...it is...I tripped," she bluffed it out with absolutely no skill, "Landed awkwardly but the doctor said it's not broken so...here I am." She managed a weak chuckle. In actual fact she couldn't remember whether her father or boyfriend had caused it. All of the blows tended to meld into one for Iona.
"What can I get for you?" She tried to breeze through it though her smile was a touch tighter and not a genuine. "A ploughman's again?"

TAG: @Sarah
Going up in the world

June 5

Nobody had ever wanted to lavish gifts on her, but she didn't say that and instead gave an awkward little smile. Armenius had been good to his boys and girls and given them new mattresses and pillows, and painted some of the cells but they were still cells where her only worldly belongings were her lamp, her clothes and a small pot of kohl for her eyes (she tried it once, it didn't suit). She had no need for gifts, nor anywhere to put them, but she nodded all the same. He was right, she did enjoy the luxuries here and she glanced around the room again with a slightly softer smile. "I've never seen anywhere as nice as this before. Not even back at home." They had been a poor family, made poorer still by her father. She had thought such luxury was firmly out of her reach.
The smile became softer as he adjusted the strap of the dress and she looked almost a bit...embarrassed; emphasised by her words. "I don't think I can borrow it next week." she admitted sheepishly, and with no ill-intent or suggestion that she wanted him to buy another for her, "So I will have to wear my usual tunica." Or a toga, but that marked her out as a prostitute straight away which she doubted Spurius wanted. "But I can do my hair however you'd like it done?" She added, genuinely trying to please him. She could offer him so little, it occurred to her.
Massage, she supposed, was another way and she beamed as he said it had improved. Nimble fingers clearly made a difference and she nodded in understanding as he explained the injury. "I will keep practicing then, for the next time it seizes." She could afford another lesson or two, especially now Armenius had got the kitchens working again so she didn't have to spend her coin on food. She glanced at the bed though, the thought gone from her mind as he told her to sleep. It seemed almost...shameful to take advantage of his offered kindness but they had agreed on next week. That was enough. She nodded and moved to gently sit down on the plush bed. It felt like heaven. "If you're sure, sir..." She added quietly and then moved to curl herself up on it. She should have been trying to sell herself, sell a moment with him but she didn't want to. She didn't want to ruin and cheapen this moment. She didn't know how tired she was until her head hit the feathered pillow. "Thank you. So much." she mumbled sleepily.

TAG: @Sarah
Going up in the world

May 28

He ducked his head out of her touch, but the expression on her face was soft. She didn't think she'd heard him laugh before, not beyond a snort of amusement when she'd said something foolish. His words could have been an admonishment, but watching him carefully, she didn't take them as one. Instead she gave him an amused, almost shy smile of her own and chuckled, shaking her head. "You won't be surprised to know you're not the first person that's told me that." She was doing 'better' under Armenius' hawkish gaze than Titus' when he had run the Elysium but she still suffered through complaints, failure to land new clients when out fishing and poor reviews on the walls of Rome (apparently, not that she could read).
The gentleness of his gesture made her suck in a breath, the smile softening even further as she glanced up at him. She really was terribly ill-suited to the lifestyle in which she was placed. "I will. Thank...thank you." Should she be thanking him? She'd lose money, but that really wasn't a concern and in any case Armenius would earn double if she brought another girl, so that didn't factor into it. His question made her wince though and she shifted from foot to foot, choosing now as a moment to drop her eyes back down. "I saved some of it," she protested but there was a wry smile of amusement on her lips. "I used some for a lesson on massage, like you said. At the baths down by the Sparrow, it was good. It was useful. I'm going to try and go back next month, if I can." Although practicing on a sweaty older woman hadn't been ideal, at least she'd learned. The rest of it though..."I don't need you to buy me anything," she chuckled and glanced down at the billowing dress, "I'm not sure fancy clothes suit me anyway." That the simple chiton was 'fancy' to Ione spoke volumes.
She glanced up at him, curiosity in her expression; "Speaking of the massage...sorry...how is your leg? Does it feel better?"

TAG: @Sarah
Going up in the world

May 27

I'm sorry.
Ione glanced up, eyes filled with an utterly inscrutable look. Nobody had ever apologised, or not that she could remember. Her father hadn't when he'd sold her; he'd looked away in shame. None of her masters had, and certainly not her customers - not even the ones that beat her or cut her or smashed her lamps. And here was Spurius, looking wracked, apologising to her - simple, obedient girl that she was. Hilaera of Kefalonia to Ione of the Elysium, it didn't matter, nobody had done that for her before.
His compliments rolled off of her, lost in the confusion she felt, until she shook her head hurriedly as he explained. "I-I don't care about the money." she clarified a moment later, "I know I should, you told me I should." She gave him a wavering smile, "But...it's not important to me." She'd never earn enough to buy herself unless she ran through all the men in the city every night, and she could save the lost coin from not bedding Remus and Romulus from other clients. It wasn't like she received it all anyway - her peculium was tightly controlled by her dominus.
You're not a fool. I do want you.
She still didn't understand. He wanted her, but was holding himself back. No man had ever held himself back in the presence of a prostitute unless it was a young lad on his first visit, and usually they were more eager than afraid. She gave him a gentle look and swallowed the lump that filled her throat. No doubt the other girls and boys she worked with at the Elysium would know exactly what to do in this sort of situation - they'd flutter their eyelashes and giggle and drop their togas. Ione wasn't such a woman - she was awkward and gangly at the best of times, and now standing in front of a man who'd sent her more mixed messages than an oracle, she did what felt right. What felt natural.
She took a half pace towards him and softly, without asking for permission, raised her fingers to sweep over his cheek - those dark blue doe eyes searching his face. "I want you too." The look she gave him was so earnest, it was impossible to believe she was putting on any sort of act. And she wasn't. She did want him, because he had been kind and fair and considerate in a way no other man besides perhaps Wulfric had been, and he was likely long gone now the Spring sun shone. She wanted to thank him, and her body was a way for her to do that, the only way really. "I don't want you because you'll earn me more coin," She clarified, her voice soft, "I...like you. Sir." She added at the end, only faintly remembering her place in his household, in his life. She didn't want to break the moment by suggesting she get on the bed, or undress or do anything quite so cheap. She just stayed staring at him for a long moment before she regained some wits and dropped her eyes to the patterned floor beneath her bare feet. So beautiful, so out of her league.

TAG: @Sarah
Going up in the world

May 27

She didn't feel right taking Remus' coin if she didn't need it. Spurius, despite how well he kept his slaves, likely didn't understand how important even a little money was to those in bondage and it had been an accident. Had Remus ripped off her dress in a frenzy of anger or passion, she would have pocketed the coin and thought no more about it, but it had been a flimsy bit of fabric in the first place and one wrong tug had sent it splitting. She palmed the coin again as instructed with a silent nod. She'd leave it with Corva or Linus to return to Remus before she left, not wishing to argue the point with the master of the house right now.
Silence stretched on interminably and she felt like she dared not breathe lest she disturb whatever he was so deeply musing over. She swallowed the lump that filled her throat. Had she displeased him even more? Surely not, surely- and then he stood with effort and she cast a glance up at him, curiosity shining in her eyes. Upstairs? She blinked, surprise written over every inch of her features. She'd discounted the notion he'd want her - especially now. The artful waves of freshly washed hair and well fashioned dress of this morning had been replaced by a haphazard pile of hair tied in a loose bun on her head, and a shapeless billowing sack where the belt had been removed. Not to mention the fact, despite scrubbing herself raw in his baths, she had still lain with two of his slaves. Why would he want her now? Unless he preferred the tragic ingenue she often was in this house, rather than the polished version she'd presented this morning?
It didn't make sense to her but she slowly and silently followed his limping form up the stairs. Armenius' words floated back into her mind. Very obedient. She was, to her core. If not to her father, then to her first owner, then to Armenius and all of her customers, including Spurius. She didn't have long to dwell on the implications of it though as he gestured for her to go into the nicest room she'd ever seen. She stepped over the threshold and spun around with slow steps, face-up, eyes wide, taking in the beauty of the wall paintings, how soft the covers and sheets and pillows looked, mouth gaping a little. "I..." she started, about to say she didn't know what she'd done to deserve such kindness, but he cut her off with a quiet, inquisitive voice. She didn't understand. She didn't understand any of this, and judging by his question, apparently neither did he.
Unnaturally for Ione, she met his gaze with a look of confusion and anguish and didn't lower her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak and then shut it again, trying to find the words. Silence bloomed and swelled for a moment before she shrugged a little limply, finally dropping her eyes respectfully to his chest, her voice quiet. Humiliation reared it's ugly head again, alongside embarrassment. She just didn't understand. "I...I am tired. I got up early this morning, to go to the good baths." Which were only open certain hours for women like her. It had still cost more than it should have though. That obviously wasn't all though, and he knew it as much as her. She was just struggling to put it into words. "I...I'm embarrassed. I wanted to look nice, for you. I wanted to please you and I...thought you wanted me too." She swallowed, her cheeks flushing pink, "And then you sent me to see Remus and Romulus and I..." She sighed softly, "I realised I was a fool. And it upset me. I'm sorry." She shrugged lightly again, the implication of her words clear; why would you want a girl like me, after all? "A-and now I don't understand. You're so kind to me but...you don't want me in return." Everything in Ione's life was transactional; a lay for a coin, a drink for a lay and so on and so forth. She liked Spurius for his kindness and would have been obliging had he asked the world of her, but the back and forth, confusing flip-flops made her doubt everything. She just didn't understand.

TAG: @Sarah
Going up in the world

May 26

Doing as she was bidden, she stepped forward quietly until she was standing in front of him, twisting the broken belt in her hands. For a brief moment she wondered if he'd ask her to take her knees again for him. Last week she hadn't minded at all, it almost, in some sort of weird, perverse way felt like an honour. He was an important man and he had wanted her, so she'd done her best and he'd seemed satisfied.
Now, it felt cheap. Logically she knew that's exactly what she was, she was just a cheap whore whose only real offering in this life was what was between her legs, but she thought she'd given Spurius more than that with their little chats, his advice and the aid she'd given to his leg. But the moment this morning that he'd dismissed her to fuck his slaves as he worked downstairs on his important papers and business, the reality of her situation and their relationship had dawned in stark relief. She felt humiliated for how much she had been looking forward to today, for her preening and pampering and the prospect of satisfying him now felt...wrong. She'd do it if he asked, of course, but she couldn't muster up an iota of enthusiasm for it.
She passed him the belt as he asked for it and clasped her hands together in front of her waist as he examined it before beckoning for Corva. She flinched at his call and then discretely took a step to the side as she bustled in and took the belt with her poor hands. Ione had asked if there was anything she could do last week, but the woman had just smiled softly and shaken her head. She liked Corva, although wondered today as she sat silently picking at her plate of food, whether she was as amused at her preening as the guard was likely to be when he picked her up. She shifted from foot to foot again. She just wanted to go home. Yet as Corva bustled away, Ione noticed Spurius hadn't dismissed her.
Silently, she placed the as on his desk next to him and cleared her throat. "If Corva fixes the belt I don't need Remus' coin. Will you give this back to him, sir?" She folded her hands back in front of her waist and asked; "Would you like me to wait in the kitchens whilst the belt is fixed?" Surely he didn't want her to linger around in the luxury of the nicer parts of his domus?

TAG: @Sarah
Mirror Mirror...

May 26

Iona nodded with a smile of her own. "Scottish parents aren't the most imaginative...or mine weren't. I lived on Skye when I was young, I guess they preferred Iona for a girl." And it was monumentally embarrassing to be named after a hunk of rock that everybody in the Highlands knew. At least down here in the south few people had heard of it and just thought it was a pretty name. She nodded hurriedly and took the plate up to her chest, almost hugging it - her smile wider now. "I will...I will..." Her father had cottoned on, when she'd got this job, that if he couldn't afford to pay for his alcohol it would be taken out of her wage as a relation. She briefly wondered why he wasn't at work - he usually worked the 11-7 shift at the local factory when his 'pains' (hangovers) didn't act up, but she dared not dig into that rabbit hole any further.
"Thank you, Mr Clark. I promise if you come back I'll learn how to make better coffee." She grinned and then it wavered as the barmaid called over; "Iona!" Without another glance at Spencer, she skittered off to take a laden tray of drinks out to the back garden, including her fathers pint. Although she made sure to stash the coin and the business card in her apron as she did so. Only six hours to go...
---
If fair-skinned Iona had thought the previous week was hot, the following Friday was something altogether different. After a brief fainting fit (no breakfast, too much running around), she'd been sat on a stool behind the bar with a plate of chips to munch on as the other waitress scurried between the garden and the bar. Whether out of pity or recognition that it really was a health and safety nightmare to have a fainting young woman run up and down steps, her boss had allowed her to work the inside restaurant. There were a couple of locals propping up the bar but that was it. Until the bell jingled over the door and a recognisable figure limped into view. Iona hadn't seen him walk last time she'd seen him, and hadn't clocked the cane either (observation had never been her strong suit) and so she couldn't conceal the surprise on her face.
Slipping off the stool, she skittered over to him with a breathy grin. She blinked back stars from her vision. She really needed more chips. "Mr Clark." He seemed the sort of fancy man she should say 'Mr' to, or 'Sir'. Not 'Spencer' that seemed wrong. "Back for more terrible coffee?" She had practiced, as she said she would. "Inside again?" She glanced around the virtually empty room. "Take your pick and I can take that for you-" she reached for his briefcase, as if offering to help given the cane, revealing a deep purple bruise underneath the sleeve of her black work shirt.

TAG: @Sarah
Business is business

May 25

Ione had hoped that moving up to the recently repaired top floor might have been an improvement. In all the months she'd been here when Titus had been in control, the Elysium had operated from the row of cells on the ground floor - a portion of the roof had caved in after all and there were no guarantees the rooms at the top would stand for much longer. Armenius had seen to that, as he'd seen to most things and he'd given her the gift of better clients, as one of his favoured whores. She'd had high hopes, which had yet to be realised. Whilst she was no longer cut by madmen with knives or beaten silly by drunken blacksmiths, the calibre of clients upstairs were no less brisk and demanding of her body. Still, at least her ceiling didn't leak. Small mercies.
She was led on her back, naked, panting and trying to catch her breath as the curtain was unceremoniously drawn back. She thought it might be the client having forgotten something and so didn't immediately move until she heard her dominus' voice remarking that her little cell was cozy that she snapped open her eyes and bolted upright on the bed. Her head swam a little at the motion. It was early in the morning but it had been a long night with precious little sleep and it took her a moment to focus her eyes as she sat on the bed. Then she saw the man next to him and...shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Spurius had told her to tell Armenius he'd be visiting. She had been supposed to tell him. Just as she had been supposed to tell him he'd used her mouth. The guard had been paid extra to pass on to Armenius but she wondered if he'd pocketed it. Shit.
An introduction was made which was absolutely not necessary and Ione hurried to her feet. She was still naked and made no move to cover herself as she debated what to say. She should have told Armenius that Spurius' boys were regular clients of hers. She should have told him she visited his house. As it was, she just stood there, awkwardly, wishing she could go back in time two days rather than be standing here like a slave on auction block, hair mussed, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast.

TAG: @Sarah @Atrice
Mirror Mirror...

May 25

A lawyer! Here! Iona's eyes widened. The Bell and Plow was more likely to be frequented by tradespeople, those who worked down the local factories and people like her family who were perpetually unemployed. Imagine having a real life lawyer here. Iona had only ever seen them in TV shows she pirated from the US and the bumbling, sweaty, overwhelmed court-mandated ones she saw whenever she had been forced to attend court in support of some extended family member. She'd failed to notice the way he curved the document away from her, lost in her memories as she was.
It took her a moment to realise what he was asking for with his reminder but it soon enough sent her skittering over to the age old till to print off an itemised receipt.
She returned a few moments later with the bill neatly folded on a chipped porcelain plate, a single mint sitting atop it. "What sort of law do you do?" She asked, unable to help herself as she held the card machine loosely in slim fingers. "Oh! And cash or card?" Hopefully card with a cash tip she could pocket straight into her apron before her boss spied it and made her add it it to the 'communal' jar which had never been communal as long as she worked here. Their rent was due next week and she was more than positive the universal credit that was supposed to pay for it had long been lost down the bookies. She shifted from foot to foot, about to speak when the creaking door swung open and a grating, gruff Scottish voice sounded over the quiet of the bar.
"Iona!" her father sure had a gift for timing, "Pint in the garden!" She glanced at the man next to her with an apologetic look as the older man who bore a mere passing resemblance to her shuffled off. She gave an awkward smile. "I'm Iona...if you hadn't guessed."

TAG: @Sarah
Amends

May 25

"Still," Ione offered with a small little smile, "You'e a Prince. You mightn't need much, but don't you want much?" She still remembered the fresh disappointment she felt when she had been expecting to attend on of the large fancy Domi in the city and instead Wulfric had taken her to a single room in an insulae. She gave him an encouraging smile; "You should treat yourself, food, clothes," women she added in her head - knowing he should be at the Venus, not with women as cheap as her and her colleagues, "You should enjoy your life a little Wulfric, before you go home."
But the question toward her made her stop and she blinked. What did she want to do with her freedom? She bit down on her lip. Her dominus would likely query why she didn't say him and try and get a regular client before Wulfric left Rome for good but she was so bone-tired of working that she couldn't summon the energy for it. She liked Wulfric, but she wanted one evening without opening her thighs. Just one. "I..." She bit her lip. What did she want to do? All of her ideas cost money which neither she or Wulfric had. "I'd just like to sit here." She said after a breathy pause and glanced sideways at him, a little embarrassed. "And not worry about work or my friends or my dominus. Just...enjoy the freedom. Does that sound silly?"

TAG: @Atrice

Topics I Participated In

Going up in the world

Started by Ione · May 22

March 77AD
It had been a week since she was last here but Ione felt...nervous. It was odd. In her months since she'd been taken from the slave market and forced into service in the Elysium she'd serviced too many men to count, but none of such quality. Usually they were bakers or legionaries home from service, thermopolia workers or warehouse thugs. Not a man that owned his own home, owned his own slaves and not a man that could have such an impact on her life.
It was why she had tried to look more presentable than usual this time. She'd spent an hour in the baths this morning, scrubbing and scraping her skin until it was virtually shining, hairless and smelled like the cheapest oils they sold; rose-hip and lemon. She'd curled her hair although by now, after the walk over, they were more waves than curls that fell to her waist. She'd foregone make-up - she could never do it right and she always ended up looking more like an actress than one of the rich beauties. She had donned a new dress though - loaned from Eris and so too big (fixed with a belt) - in a soft pink colour that complimented her colouring. Never had she put such effort in for a man, not even Wulfric.
Her guard knocked as was customary and then stood to the side as Linus greeted her with his now customary warmth, ushering her in and nodding at the guard that he should return in a few hours. The management knew she was seeing Spurius, so there was no arguments and he shuffled away with a final stern look to Ione. For her part she smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress and exhaled, trying to summon a smile through her nerves. She should have spent the week practicing with the other girls instead of paying for a massage lesson. She suddenly doubted that he'd be as receptive to her body as he was to her mouth. Linus placed an arm on her back to urge her forward, just as Spurius appeared.

TAG: @Sarah
Mirror Mirror...

Started by Spurius Antius Claudus · May 21

The Bell and Plow was a pretty ordinary pub in a rather less affluent part of town, but it was convenient. It claimed to have been there since the 1600s, when it was a small farming village, and certainly there were enough ancient horse brasses and old pewter tankard hung from the low, blackened beams that it was at least trying to look the part. He did feel that the goggle-eyed taxidermied deer head over the fireplace was going a bit too far.
Four days a week he worked at the legal firm where he had a junior partnership, the other he split; morning was appointments and the Veterans support group, afternoon was the legal aid group that worked with a number of local charities, including the women's shelter which was close by. This place was an easy stop on his route between the two, and it did an acceptable plowman's lunch with a surprisingly good relish. He'd not been able to find out what was in it.
He was a tall, lean figure in a business suit, brown hair cropped neatly short, tie a fairly boring navy blue. A briefcase sat at his feet and he'd taken a laptop out of it and was reading documentation on it whilst he ate. The only unusual feature was a cane of dark wood hooked onto the edge of the table. He usually sat inside, even though it was sunny today and a lot of people were enjoying the outdoor tables in the beer garden. He preferred the quiet. Sipping his lemonade, he scrolled through the piece of legislation he was reading, looking for the relevant clauses and making notes on his phone.
He'd surprised a lot of people when he'd got into law at university, but Spencer felt that being underestimated seemed to be par for the course for him and hadn't let it bother him, or stop him. Even as he made his way through his fresh bread and local, crumbly cheese, he was focused on the necessaries for his next case.
@Sara
Business is business

Started by Spurius Antius Claudus · April 2

March 77AD
Spurius hadn't been back to the Elysium personally since the last time he'd sold them a slave, a previous house slave who'd been used and abused by her dominus until she wasn't suitable for much else, but whose sale Spurius had since considered he might regret if his name was associated with a badly kept slave. It was also the day he'd hired Ione to see to the needs of his twin slaves, large, half-germanic lad who carried his litter. Apart from the one time she'd shown up bruised and beaten, he hadn't regretted that.
Two days ago when she'd paid her weekly visit she'd mentioned that the Elysium had a new owner, and Spurius decided that it would be worthwhile to pay the man a visit in order to get his measure and establish whether there was a potential business relationship to pursue. Did the new owner intend to continue exactly as the last had done, or did he have other plans? There was only one way to find out.
So it was that two days after Ione's last visit to his domus, Spurius arrived, crook in his hand and twins in tow, to talk business with the new owner of the Elysium.
@Atrice
Fates and Grapes

Started by Ione · March 23

Late February 77AD
Ione sat at the corner table, nursing her solitary cup of wine and occasionally dragging the loop of her gaudy, shoddy toga back up her thin arm. It was designed to be proactive given only whores and Senators wore it. And Senators most definitely didn't wear the short, shabby yellow ensemble she was wrapped in. Despite the outfit and the attempt at a beaming smile, few people paid her much attention. She had come here with a group of five others from the brothel - it was one of their rituals to fish for new clients and slowly but surely they had all peeled off with catches, leaving Ione alone. She felt nerves well and roll in her stomach. The new dominus would undoubtedly mark it against her if she was unable to procure even a drunken lout for the Elysium and so she flashed her smile and fluttered her eyelashes and hoped somebody would pay her the slightest bit of attention.
A shadow crossed by her field of vision and she hopefully angled her body, grinning a seductive smile - only for it to fall immediately when's he recognised the lech of a proprietor idle next to her table. She could stand him when she was with the others but solo he gave her a shudder. There was a reason she never chose this place. "You're finished. Out." He jerked his thumb at the door and Ione blinked, glancing down. She still had a few mouthfuls of wine to finish. The man only let them fish when he was making coin too which was fair but an irritant. She couldn't afford another cup of wine. "I'll go once I've finished." she said, trying to sound confident. He snorted. "Drink up then." Ione held her ground and pulled back her shoulders. It was almost comical - watching the slip of a girl trying to act tough. "Buy another drink or get out." The man wasn't backing down and so Ione tried a trick she'd seen Eris successfully master a few days before; she called out in a light, melodic voice - her Greek accent catching on the Latin words; "Which gentleman would like to buy a lady a drink?"

TAG: @Faustus
Tourists and Trouble

Started by Ione · February 26

February 77AD
Ione brushed down the wrinkles from her toga. Balling it up on the floor whilst she was working always meant it looked like a crumpled mess...which she didn't think her new dominus would appreciate. She equally raked her fingers through her hair to neaten out the curls one of the other girls had kindly styled for her that morning. The last man had been quick and quiet, which was absolutely her favourite type of customer. She was tired though and stifled a yawn on the back of her hand as she loitered in the corridor with a couple of others.
The Elysium was busy, it was after cena and the lonely husbands and bored workers were flocking for some early evening entertainment. Sounds of pleasure and exertion drifted out from the cells and Ione, needing some air and a break, she ducked out of the door. The guard grunted at her but let her linger against the stone wall with him as she tried to catch her breath and cool her skin. The streets were as busy as the brothel and she offered what she hoped was an enticing smile to passers by as she endured wolf whistles and comments thrown her way.

TAG: @Chevi
Fresh Starts

Started by Ione · February 19

February, 77AD
Ione dunked her face in the cold water basin she kept in her room, trying to wipe off the kohl that circled her eyes. The man who was chatting idly to Darius outside having just had the use of her body, always demanded it, but she hated it. It itched and looked ridiculous on her complexion and she cupped her hands with the water trying to scrub it off. Pulling the dark black wig (another requirement) off her hair after her eyes were clear of the dark smudges, she set about scrubbing her body as clean as she could. It never felt like enough though.
There was some sort of commotion in the corridor but she payed it no heed. Things had been happening all morning - boxes being ferried out of the small cell at the end of the corridor that served as the dominus' office, and others were being moved in. She didn't pay it any mind, Titus was probably merely ferrying things between his home and his office. It didn't matter to her - scrubbing herself of every trace of the dumpy little man she'd just been with, did. When she was satisfied she slipped back on the red toga and raked a comb through her hair. All that time she'd spent on it this morning with Eris to make the waves fall just right was virtually ruined. Still, she looked presentable - if a little flushed from the cold of the water.
Steeling herself, she padded to the curtain and drew it back to be greeted by a huddle of women looking confused in the corridor. That was not the explanation to the commotion she had been expecting. She had assumed it was probably some drunken customer being escorted out. She frowned but glanced at the other girls who merely shrugged and continued their conversation; "I heard Titus isn't coming back." one said and Ione scoffed. She hadn't seen him all morning, but that wasn't unusual. "He's probably just out on business." She offered and an older woman frowned, "He didn't say goodbye." Ione rolled her eyes, "If he's just gone to the baths he wouldn't need to-" Eris interrupted her; "But all of his boxes are gone. Darius said-" They were cut off as the man himself awkwardly entered from the street, with a taller figure in tow. Ione felt her stomach lurch.

TAG: @Atrice
Amends

Started by Ione · February 8

Two weeks after Male Fantasy, Mid-late December 76AD
Ione didn't have much free time. She was allowed to the baths, accompanied by the other girls and a guard, and to go fishing in pairs usually (unless she stayed very close to the Elysium), but actual spare time to do with as she pleased was reserved for festival days. Today was such a day; the third day of Saturnalia was amongst them and unlike other brothels, the Elysium stayed open in the evenings. Titus probably assumed the girls wouldn't complain and he'd done a killing in trade, so in reward he'd allowed them a morning and afternoon off - shutting up shop and pushing them out of the door, their meagre savings in hand.
Ione knew exactly where she was going to go and bundled up in her cloak, its fastenings tied tight around her throat to hide the bruises and perfectly neat line of a cut mark below her collarbone, she hurried to a bakery down the street. Her savings were pitiful, but she could afford a honey cake. It was practically all she could afford and cradling it in her palms as she moved her willowy frame through the streets to the insula, she felt humiliated. A cake wasn't enough to make amends, not by a long way, but it was all she could offer. She knew her dominus would be furious that she was here, and she kept sparing nervous glances over her shoulder as she climbed the rickety wooden stairs up to the familiar apartment. She had to do this though, the guilt had been gnawing away at her since that awful, dreadful day.
She knocked quickly and tentatively on his door and stood back, biting her lip and shooting glances up and down the external corridor. No answer. She knocked again, a little louder this time. No answer. She wondered if he could see through the cracks in the wood and was purposefully ignoring her. She deserved that. She bit her lip and knocked again, and this time a head poked out from the apartment next door. It was a middle-aged woman, dowdy and red-cheeked and she shot Ione a glare, almost as if she could see exactly what she was just by her bearing. "He's not here. He's at work. Piss off." Oh. She bit her lip again and stepped back and the woman slammed her door shut. She only had a few hours until sundown and she'd be expected back at work but she'd wait. Quietly, she moved to curl herself into a seated position opposite his door. It wasn't how most girls were spending their Saturnalia off, but it was how she needed to spend hers.

TAG: @Atrice
Fresh Air

Started by Ione · January 14

January, 77AD
For once, Ione was out of the Elysium and not just looking for a customer. The weather was freezing but it was a clear day, a bright sun bobbing along a blue, cloudless sky and a breeze rustled at the covered stalls of the market. She'd seen so little of Rome since she was brought here in chains, but she remembered this place. The slave holders cages where she had been housed were only a few hundred yards away and she purposefully kept her gaze down so as not to look as she milled between the stalls. Beyond the walls of the Elysium she had only really seen the region where she fished for business and the markets. Her dominus didn't trust new girls to venture too far but he did need the wine and all of the other works were either occupied or out fishing. He'd debated asking Darius, but had decided to send her. She didn't know whether it was a test of trust or for his own amusement to see the slip of a girl lug an amphora of wine half-way back across the city, but he'd allowed her out, and out alone.
She wore her cloak, it was worn and threadbare in places but it was long, falling to her knees and by the way she'd pinned it, it covered the gaudy yellow toga she wore which marked her out immediately as a target for heckling and licentiousness. She was grateful for that. To the naked eye she must have just looked like any other slave as she milled through the stalls, trying to find the place she had been told to go. She didn't know why her dominus couldn't get his wine delivered, or from somewhere closer (it didn't occur to her that he was doing this just out of spite and amusement and it wasn't really necessary). She bit her lip, glancing around the people that bustled between the stalls, trying to spy the man, repeating the dominus' instructions out loud, to herself, in Greek; third row, usually on the corner at the back - make a right at the silk stand but don't go past the man selling sweetened nuts. She couldn't see a silk stand or a man selling nuts. She let out a breath, frustrated at herself, and spun on her heel...right into the chest of somebody else.

TAG: Open!
Male Fantasy [M - S]

Started by Wulfric · January 11

Early December, 76AD
It had been a strange day, the day he met Ione. That day had begun as an ordinary day. He’d been at work at the marketplace and in the afternoon he was on his way home for a rest. Apparently a bit too busy with going home, since he forgot to see where he was going and fell. And hurt his knees and ruined the trousers his mother had given him. But Ione the whore – that’s the name he heard for such women the most – had helped him cleanse the wounds and then she had also offered herself to him. And he couldn’t stop thinking about that. What it would be like and so on. The pictures painted onto the walls of her simple room were also unforgettable.
A few weeks had gone by now since that day and his knees looked much better. The breeches had patches on the knees now and life quickly went back to normal. But he had tomorrow off and could afford to sleep in. So he thought that now would be the time. He paid a messenger boy a small coin to go to the Elysium and say that Wulfric wished for Ione’s services specifically and he would like for her to come to his home. He still lived in a simple one-room insula high up in such a building. It was cheap and really all he needed. But he didn’t lack coin now, since he rarely spent them on anything.
The messenger boy came back. The deal could happen, if Wulfric would go to the Elysium to pick up the girl and pay beforehand. And it wasn’t cheap either, considering this would last for a while and it was taking a girl away from the brothel, so she couldn’t work multiple people in one night. He still felt a bit weird about that, the thought of her servicing many men every night. He would far from be her first. But she’d like to see him again and he had decided he’d like to see her too. So there it was.
He showed up at Domus Venus just after sunset, telling the guard outside that he was waiting for Ione and he did bring the coin for her. While he was waiting, another girl came at him, trying to persuade him into letting her go down on him while he waited. But he pushed her away. He’d made his decision and it was final. Besides, he didn’t like doing it out in the open. Hopefully she’d be here soon.
@Sara
A Slow Start [M]

Started by Ione · January 10

January, 77AD
Mid-morning was always a slow time for the brothel; workers were...working, the drunks were only just getting their first wine of the morning and nobody could stomach the thought of a whore before food. Well, most people couldn't; judging by the sounds drifting from one of the little rooms occupied by one of her colleagues, some men could. A mid-morning on a rainy January, however, was even quieter. They'd barely had a man between them today and it looked likely to stay that way, at least until the post-dinner rush later.
She relished these little snatched moments of calm - even as the drizzle petered in through the holes in the ceiling - remnants from the Earthquake that her dominus had, only now, begun to fix. The Elysium was a dank, dark place - the soot on the walls from the lamps and tallow fat candles casting it in a dingy light, the small rooms where the girls worked separated only by curtains from the corridor where she now lingered. Her dominus had tried - a few chairs and a couch had been squeezed into the space, but nobody could call it luxurious. Glancing around the other girls and stray man that worked with her here, they weren't exactly glamorous either.
She adjusted the folds of her toga, feeling the coldness eat at the uncovered skin of one of her arms and her legs. "How was the baker's boy?" Eris asked her, her trademark feline grin on her face. "Quick." Ione replied in her accented Latin and the faintest hint of a smile. She liked Eris - she had the confidence that Ione would never have, the confidence born of somebody who had grown up here and was written about on half the walls of Rome. Apparently. "Probably for the best," She chuckled and shook her head, "His fathers not much better." Ione knew that too. Four months here had given her a good introduction to the regular clients of the Elysium. The thought turned her stomach this early in the morning.
A head ducked through the curtained door that led to the street and one of the dominus' men glared back at them. "Fix yourselves up. Polite company coming in." What 'fix yourselves up' meant in the context of a bunch of slaves who spent the majority of their time looking as unpresentable as possible, she didn't know. For her part, Ione tried to run her fingers through her hair to free it of knots. She'd get it done later, by one of the other girls, before the evening rush. She saw Eris and the others, eyes widen and smirks settle on the faces as they turned expectantly to the door. Ione tried to replicate the coy, flirtatious look but couldn't quite muster it and so stood awkwardly as a man ducked through into the corridor.

TAG: @Sarah