<strong>~ Domina Valeria; building up and surveying the 'tension' ~<br/>~ Villa upstairs Lounge; moving to the outer balcony overlooking training grounds ~</strong><br/><br/>Nakia was probably one of the only slaves in the household, who could correct the Domina and get away with it unscolded. So Valeria had simply nodded and waved the woman off to tend to her duties. It wasn't too long after she left the room, when the Domina already grew tired of lazily waiting upon the chaise-lounge. No amount of fruit or wine could sate her impatience, or her anger for that matter. Teasing her dear husband always came at a price; for now, it was her own, unsatisfied desire. As she leaned back against the embroidered silk cushions, her palm slid down the light swell of her abdomen, down the middle of her pelvis to where she knew a small fragment of her arousal had tainted the material that dared to touch her petals. The thin fabrics could scarcely deny the pressure of one fingertip against her folds, and she could quite easily lose herself to selfish bliss without shedding an inch of clothing. Of course, she knew that was what her husband had wanted when he'd asked her to be 'prepared' for him. She knew he desired her accommodating body, and the mere thought of it brought that same, lop-sided smirk to her pout. It was no secret that Valeria craved attention. Better to save her pleasures therefore, to ensure the build up leads to double the conclusive release.<br/><br/>But how to occupy herself in the meantime, when it was so easy to merely rest her palm between her thighs, and toy with the idea of bringing herself closer, and closer. Only to deny at the most dangerous, possible moment... The benefits of the Tablinum was how the balcony overlooked the training grounds and the cliffs beyond. The sunset was always pleasant to watch from there, though that hour had not yet arrived. Hearing the constant smacking thud of wooden training swords against various other objects, including bodies, was definitely one of the lesser benefits. Fortunately, those more irritating noises would not grace the Domina's ears. The dinner bell suddenly rang directly beneath her, followed by the patter of heavy footsteps, the buzz of deep voices uttering simple conversation, and the clatter of clay bowls. That was more than enough to pull her hand away from resting betwixt her thighs. The desire to instead survey the newly oiled Gladiators, spurred the irritated woman from her chair, and gliding forwards towards the balcony in a whisper of delicate lilac and cream. She did not stop until her forearms found a rested perch on the warm stone of the balcony wall, still heated by the late afternoon sun. The sands below were empty, save for the abandoned training dummies. The buzz of life directly below her was a more welcome aural addition to the beautiful horizon ahead, and the Domina found herself more serenely leaning forwards to marvel at the sight...<br/><br/>...At least, until her ears pricked to the definitive sound of clay cracking, followed by more clearer voices rising above the others. Momentarily startled by the rather abrupt sound disrupting her calm, Valeria instinctively leaned away to stand upright; gripping the balcony edge more firmly. The culprits were not on the sands, but the sound had surely come from below her, meaning they had to be in the mess hall. More importantly, were the words uttered on gruff voices, and one... a female voice? Deep, but not quite deep enough to be male, despite the growling within the tone. That confused Valeria, who had almost forgotten all about the potential Gladiatrix, until now; for no slave of hers would dare speak such words, or sit down to eat food with the dogs. No matter how oiled and shaved they may be. Intrigued, she leaned forwards again, straining her ears to hear the exact speech. They seemed to speak of earning the mark, and dying upon the sands. An amused smile curved her lips at such primitive conversation. Then, a gasp in her throat, and widening eyes, as the battle of tongue was not enough; a more physical dance began. The heavier sounds of chairs scratching against the floor and one body falling, followed by a louder battle cry, definitely from a female now, and definitely a full brawl as she heard more clatters. At least she could point the finger of blame at one of them, but who were the others? Irritable nails drummed against the stone, willing the fight to break out onto the sands instead, while also anticipating the crack of the Doctore's whip. She would have her turn to discipline such behaviour though...<em>later.</em>The very thought of her being in charge of the muscled men, and now this wild woman too, had the Domina biting her lower lip. The urge to dip her hand between her thighs again, very quickly returning...<br/>