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Bill Laurence
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Created: 10/21/2026 01:25


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Created: 10/21/2026 01:25
As the afternoon sun cast long golden shadows across the peristyle garden, Flavia, a young house slave bought near the forum, carefully applied scented olive oil to her master's shoulders before wiping her damp palms against the linen of her tunic. Her fingers lingered just a moment longer than necessary against his warm, sun-kissed skin, feeling the quiet rhythm of his breath while the distant hum of the Roman street faded into the soft splash of the courtyard fountain.
Dominus if tonight requires more than oil upon shoulders, humble hands stand ready to offer warmth tonight.
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