The Adventures of Freya

[MikeHales67]

I've found a new use for AI - generate some really hot images so you have to write a story for it!

All  the AI pctiures on on my DA page :
https://www.deviantart.com/mikehales67/art/The-Adventures-of-Freya-Part-1-1338617494

This is a four part story arc which takes us from Rome to Persia, to Pompeii to well...then you find out the historical significance of Freya Jansen.

It was the Year of the Consulship of Dolabella and Silanus,

or

763 Ab Urbe Condita, 763 years since the founding of Rome

Or

10 A.D. To the rest of us.

I had to look up when this bloody was, they didn't use A.D. in Roman times! Amelia, this find is amazing. You've asked me to catalogue what's here at Oakhaven House, and it's amazing. We found it in one of the crates in the basement; it looks like nobody's looked at them in ages. It's historian heaven. So many documents! I started with the oldest; it's a series of documents in a bound volume of vellum, fucking vellum! It was written in Latin; what it's doing in England, I have no idea. It's about this woman called Freya Jansen, who she was, or why she's important enough to have a book written about her, I guess I'll find out. I'm working through it as fast as I can. This is the first instalment. Did I mention there are paintings! Anyway, enough of my ravings, on with the story.

- Penelope

It was a small sailing ship on the Mare Nostrum, "Our Sea" (the Mediterranean to us -Penny). The good ship Pietas was sailing back to port from Hellada, Greece, returning some textiles, luxury goods, pottery, and a couple of passengers: two women, a redhead with her blonde servant. All was quiet on the cruise until...

"Lupa!" (Whore! -Penny) A woman's voice screamed out.

 "Futue te ipsam!" (Go fuck yourself! -Penny) Came the screamed reply.

Then they heard a slap.

The captain raced down to the hold where the sounds were coming from.

His bosun was already there. There were two women. A beautiful red-headed woman in light blue robes, a short skirt, showing off impressive legs, and equally impressive breasts, was slapping the shit out of the face of a beautiful blonde-haired woman dressed in white robes, and the captain had to admit, even more impressive breasts.

"Backpfeifengesicht!" (Slap Face -Penny) The blonde screamed as she punched back. Hitting the redhead's nose full on, she staggered back, grasping her bloodied nose. The blonde was obviously from Germania. You could tell there was tension between them when they boarded.

 "Shall we stop them?" The bosun asked.

 "No, let them finish. Five dinars on red", the captain replied.

The two women were circling each other now, hissing and muttering curses at each other.

The blonde Olivia, in the white robes, had fought before. In her village, her home, she used to take part in the festival they would hold, Kampf tag (fight day - Penny), where the girls of the village would compete in fights, for men, for honour, or to settle a grudge. Sometimes they would fight girls from rival villages. The fights were hard, tough and competitive, bruises and cuts were common, but Olivia had won more than she lost, except for Ursula. Ursula. She shuddered at the memory. She had fought hard, competitive bitches before, but never someone so...savage. That bitch from a rival village had a move she called 'Iron Claw' where she would carve out her victim's womanhood. And she had used it on Olivia mercilessly. After she had screamed her surrender, she had sobbed hysterically. She had never cried so hard in her life, apart from the time when she foolishly demanded a rematch. She had been winning, too, choking the bitch in a leglock. Until the claw was applied. She felt like her womb had been ripped from her body. She cried herself to sleep and had vowed never to tangle with that bitch ever again.

So, this was not her first fight. She felt certain she would beat the shit out of her uppity mistress and teach her a lesson she would never forget. She knew the bitch knew what was going on; you could see the way she bristled every time Olivia had smiled at that crinkled, old, rich, powerful senator. She was jealous of her beauty, her breasts, which stood firm and proud, while hers were flabby and saggy. The bitch always gave her the dirtiest, smelliest, foulest of jobs to do. The thing is that her jealousy was justified. Olivia was trying to seduce that senator. She fully intended to take everything she could from her redheaded mistress and leave her a penniless whore. A man like the senator could set her free, shower her with money, so if she had to open her legs to that shrivelled-up old prick to win her freedom, so be it. If she had to fight for her freedom, so be it.

She had been delighted to accept the wife's suggestion that they 'discuss' matters in the cargo hold of the ship in private.

However,

Octavia, the fiery redhead, was not born a Roman lady; as a child, she had been taken from northern Britannia and had grown up as a servant; she had her fair share of scraps. She won most. She had won her position as mistress of the house in a fight with the senator's former wife. The wife had always been jealous of her fiery red hair and the way the senator looked at her magnificent rack. Things came to a head one day while the senator was out. They had fought on the grounds of the villa in its fountain. Oh, the wife had put up a good fight, but in the end, she ended up naked, crying while Octavia brandished her clothes and her own superior breasts.

Unexpectedly, the senator had come home to this sight and, within a week, had divorced his wife and married her. Oh, she would show this little piece of trash who the boss was. She liked the life of luxury she had fought for; she had invited her servant down to the cargo hold of the ship to 'discuss' matters privately, and she would discuss it until that bitch was a crying bloody pulp. She liked her position in life; she had fought for it, and if she had to fight again to keep it, so be it.

 "Bitch, I'm gonna slaughter you. You don't know how long I've waited for this". Octavia was looking forward to this.

 "Fuck you, you washed-up old whore. I'm gonna take everything you have!" Olivia welcomed the opportunity.

With a scream, the wife kicks up hard into the stomach of the blonde. She groans, bending at the waist. Savagely, the wife brings her elbow down into the servant's back. And again. You could see the agony etched on her face.

The wife picks up her knee, ready for the strike. The blonde grabs it. With a smirk, she swings the red head by the leg into a post. The thud resounds throughout the galley, and the captain groans for his fighter. Gloating, the blonde now has the redhead's leg in both hands. The redhead furiously hops, to keep her balance, her hands out, scrambling at the post as the blonde servant pulls her away and swings her back in again. Thud. The wife is dazed for a moment, ignoring the bruises slowly forming on her face, she resets and turns her attention back to the blonde. 'This little blonde piece of shit is tougher than I thought', thinks Octavia, 'good, that'll make her pleas for mercy all the sweeter'.

The redheaded wife manically windmills her arms and fists; the blonde can't stop her, her own hands are tied up with the legs, and the blows and slaps hit home, hard, making the servant see stars, and the slaps leave red, angry scratch marks. She gasps from the onslaught, staggering back, she drops the redhead's leg.
 
Glad to have both her legs back, the angry wife jumps to her feet, ready to go again.

Time froze. Briefly, they stare daggers at each other. With a mutual cry of 'Lupa!', they charge. The redhead swings a punch. The blonde ducks. Coming back up, the blonde jabs with her right hand at the redhead's face, drawing blood. Then a left hook smashes into her face.

The redhead yanks the blonde's head by the hair, twisting it, pulling out hair by the roots. The blonde responds by grabbing the redhead's hair in one hand and slapping her face with the other, forehand, backhand.

They stagger around the hold. Cursing and punching and hairpulling, trying to yank each other off balance. Hands tearing at hair, fingers gouging unprotected flesh. The captain, the bosun and the rest of the crew watched open-mouthed at the first-class knock 'em down catfight unfolding in front of them.

Getting behind the blonde, the redhead gets her in a bear hug, the blonde starts panicking as the crushing pressure begins to build on her ribs, she pushes at the crushing arms. She can't move them. The redhead bites the blonde's shoulder, she screams. The wife is overjoyed as she sees the red liquid running down the blonde's back. Flailing, the blonde blindly kicks behind her against a nearby crate, the force propelling them both back. The redhead trips, sending them both to the floor in a heap.

They roll on the floor. gouging and punching at each other. First, the blonde on top, then the redhead, until the blonde reverses it. They continue like this until they hit the walls of the cargo hold. The blonde on top. She twists the redhead's face by the chin, while Octavia twists the blonde's ear painfully. Their legs are twisting around each other like snakes.

The blonde screams as the redhead rakes her fingernails across her breasts, the flimsy robes providing no protection. The nails are not long enough to scar, so she cannot shred the tits as she hoped, but they are long enough to leave stinging red lines on the once pristine breasts. The blonde jabs a punch to the mouth of the redhead, staining her smile red. The blonde grunts and starts twisting the breasts in front of her. The pliant flesh mushrooming out from between her fingers.

Then suddenly, instead of squeezing, she presses, flattening the orbs against the redhead's ribcage. The redhead moans.

 "Villis!" (worthless piece of shit -Penny), hisses the blonde.

 "Pedicabo Te!" (I'll fuck you -Penny), hisses back the redhead as her hand grips the face of the blonde and slams it into the wall of the cargo hold.

The blonde twists the tit harder and pulls, stretching it taut, the flesh turning white, the stropium covering the redhead's breasts tears. The redhead stifles a scream as she realises her breasts are bare. Then she growls. With renewed determination, she slams the blonde's head again. The thud echoes throughout the cargo hold. Blood forming on Olivia's forehead. The redhead starts twisting the blonde's lips, but the blonde keeps up the tit torture.

The redhead twists her body, getting her leg in front of the Blonde. She pushes with her legs the blonde flies through the air until she hits a wooden box. Unfortunately, she keeps her grip on the redhead's breasts and robes, the breasts she has to release, the robe she keeps. Leaving the redhead's assets for all to see. The audience gasps at the glorious sight. Meanwhile, the blonde's backward travel is stopped by a wooden crate. Her head bangs the hardwood. Momentarily dazed, her eyes glassy, she slumps to sit on the floor.
The redhead pauses to wipe the blood from her mouth, then rushes in to capitalise. She doesn't. The blonde lifts her foot, kicking Octavia on the chin, stopping her dead in her tracks. Her head snaps back, spewing spit and blood as she stumbles back. The blonde quickly rises to her feet. She gives the redhead a hard body shot; Octavia staggers, she resets, then fires back with a blow to Olivia's head.

Olivia moves forward and throws a wild left hook. Octavia ducks but fails to see the right knee until it drives into her side. The redhead folds in pain, and Olivia sends another knee in the same direction. It connects, causing Octavia to grunt, but she grabs Olivia's thigh before she has a chance to get her knee b back. Olivia's off balance and desperately grabs the redhead's shoulders to remain standing. Octavia's right fist drives into her belly, and Olivia's breath explodes out of her body. Octavia sends in another punch that feels like it's trying to bury itself into Olivia's backbone through her belly button.

Olivia attacks with an eye jab, Octavia drops the leg as her hands go to her eye. With her leg free, Olivia pushes Octavia backwards. The blonde charges the redhead, not giving her time to recover, but she had. Her uppercut rocks the blonde's head. Hissing with satisfaction, the redhead pulls the blonde in by the hair. Her knee crashing into the blonde's forehead, she sees stars. Her next knee mashes the blonde's face.

The redhead pushes the blonde back. The blonde gasps as her back hits the crate again. Snarling, the redhead closes in, pulling the blonde's head back, trapping her against the crate. Her other hand clamps on the blonde's throat. The muscles on her arms stand out as she strains to choke the life out of her hated enemy.

 "Told ya red'll win."

 "The fight's not over yet", said the bosun, hopefully. He really didn't want to lose those Denari; it was a week's pay.

 "Always bet on red. Heh! I was thinking she could help us out with our trade negotiations".

 "She's got to win first", the bosun snaps back, silently willing his champion to carry on.

The blonde's hands manically search for a weapon, something, anything. She finds a bowl, and she swings to brain the redhead. Her eyes go glassy, her grip on Olivia's throat loosens. Scrambling her legs, the blonde kicks, her feet forcibly compressing the redhead's boobs, forcing her back. The redhead grasps at Olivia's torn robe, taking most of it with her.

Both women were just wearing the small loincloth they use as underwear. Their magnificent, sweat-soaked bodies are visible in all their glory for all to see. Most of the crew involuntarily stiffen; they are aroused but wonder how much longer they can continue this hellish battle. But they will; the wife wants to destroy this homewrecking whore, the blonde wants payback for five years of mistreatment and her husband.

The blonde leaps to her feet. Octavia lashes out with a backhand. The blonde's head moves back, and the redhead's hand cuts through empty air. Realising she still has the bowl in her hand, the blonde swings the bowl at the redhead's head. Thinking fast, the redhead quickly grabs the hand mid-travel, she pulls the hand into her mouth and bites down. The blonde screams. The bowl clatters to the floor. The redhead kicks it away. The blonde is frantically hammering at the redhead's head to get her hand released. The redhead just keeps biting. Blood running down the blonde's hand. The blonde's knee kicks up, hitting the underside of the redhead's tit, sending it up in the air. The redhead shrieks. In revenge, her nails scrape along Olivia's breast and sensitive nipple. Olivia screams. Octavia's hands reach out, grabbing Olivia again by the hair, spinning her around, putting Olivia in a chokehold as she leaps onto the blonde's back.  The weight of her body adds to the pressure of the choke.

Grinning, Octavia squeezes hard; she grins harder when she hears the blonde tramp start to wheeze. Black dots appear in Olivia's vision now. Desperate not to suffocate, she bends and staggers headfirst into the post, cracking Octavia's skull. Stunned, Octavia's arms fall away from the throat, and she slides off Olivia's back to the floor into a crouch. She moans.  Olivia staggers back, then collapses to the floor, coughing.

They seem to stay like that for an eternity. All that can be heard is sobbing, coughing and pitiful moans. The witnesses to the battle wonder if either woman could continue. It looked like it was over.

 "This isn't over!"

Octavia moves towards Olivia, legs apart to steady herself. Determined to do whatever it takes to finally end that blonde bitch.

 "Yes, it is!"

Olivia's foot shoots straight out, hitting like a thunderbolt straight between Octavia's spread apart legs into her crotch. Octavia's eyes roll into her head, her mouth forms a perfect circle, then a dull squeak as the white-hot molten pain overwhelms her body. The audience can hear insane babbling as her hands sink to her poor, devastated pussy.

 Olivia slowly rose to her feet. Determined to continue her destruction of her enemy's womanhood.

She grabbed the head of the redhead, pulling it down.

 "Cunnus!" (you don't need me to tell you -Penny), Olivia gasped as her knee crushed into the pelvic bone.

 "Cunnus!" she gasps as the knee strikes again. Olivia was finding it hard to get air into her lungs, but she had to destroy this bitch.

 "Cunnus!" another knee, another dull thud. Octavia just blubbers. Olivia throws Octavia back; she hits the post, sliding down to the floor.

Exhausted, Olivia stands on legs that are close to buckling, her magnificent breasts heaving as she struggles to fill her lungs. Slowly, she realises her task is not yet finished. The bitchwhore was still conscious!

The redhead is on her back now, blubbering incoherently. The blonde sinks onto her stomach, using her knees to trap her arms. She grips the right breast, provoking an instinctive writhing beneath her. Using her grip on the tit, the blonde uses it to pull her into range.

A hammerlike jab to the face, the face deforms as if it were putty.

And another blow, blood sprays on the floor.

A third blow was unnecessary, but it takes time for the blonde to recognise the lack of resistance coming from the redhead. When she finally does, she releases the breast grip, letting the unconscious head fall to the floor with a thud.

Olivia stands triumphant above her fallen foe. The crew cheers her, and she smiles before losing consciousness and falling to the deck.

After the fight, the two women were taken back to their newly assigned cabins, where they were checked over by the ship's doctor. They had been given separate cabins. It did not seem like a good idea to bunk them together. When the ship had docked. The captain communicated with the senator about what he should do with the passengers. Octavia ended up being taken home on the back of a cart. Too beat up to walk or ride, she had to be dosed with considerable amounts of Opium to help her deal with the pain and to quiet her moaning. Olivia was left in her bunk on the ship. Although she limped, she was not as vocal as her erstwhile opponent.

After giving her a day to recover, the captain went over to congratulate the blonde.

He handed her some coins.

 "Even though you cost me five denarii, you deserve this..."

 "Thanks, I think I've lost my job, and I'll probably be put to death for beating his wife up".

"Er, no. I negotiated with your previous owner, and now you belong to us..."

 "...you'll never see your redheaded friend again?"

 "She was a bitch!"

 "Yes, but you outbitched her", the captain said admiringly.

"What's your name?"

 "Freya, Freya Jansen", she would use the name she had been born with. She would not use the slave's name, Olivia, that bitchwhore gave her.

 "Well, Freya Jansen..." he smiled at her. Straightening her hair. She let him; she was used to it.

 "...you look like a dignified woman of Rome..."

 "...but you fight like a demon-possessed low-life street-whore", he grinned.

 "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she asked.

 " Yes... " he replied, beaming.

"...I think you are just the person to help with some trade negotiations".

[Rocko23]

Wonderful brutal fight. Quite liked the wife lol. Can't wait to see those trade negotiations!

[MikeHales67]

The negotiations will get intense.

[MikeHales67]