Excerpt from ‘ The price of Rebellion’

A Crucim story in progress.                                                      

By Sejanus@mail2rome.com

A sleek Roman war galley drops anchor and a short time later the captain speaks to General ‘Crassus.’

“ We couldn’t catch the pirates sir.

The slaves are lazy and didn’t put in all their effort even with a liberal taste of the whip.

The captain is nervous, he knows that the final blame will lay with him.

He takes the generals silence as liberty to continue with the excuse.

“ Some of them are just too young and inexperienced to compete against the strength of seasoned pirates sir.”

He pauses for a moment.

“ They may get better with time.”

Crassus shakes his head.

“ No!

The pirates were sent to aid Spartacus. This is war against the slaves and I will tolerate no hint of complicity on their part.”

Arms crossed he looks out past the dock, along the breakwater. He is deep in thought.

It’s well known that Crassus is desperate to defeat Spartacus; but his enemy in the senate Pompey, will play up on the fact that this latest venture went wrong.

He nods toward the underperformers. 

“ Replace them.”

“ Sir ?”

The captain knows how costly a galley slave crew is to buy and train.

“ You heard me. “

Crassus strokes the stubble under his chin.

“ Send buyers to the slave markets and purchase a fresh crew ”

“ And what would you have me do with them sir?”

The captain motions toward the slaves who exercise under close guard on the dock side.

“Crucify them…”

The captain is surprised. He looks at the young water boys, who obediently fill fresh barrels to be taken back on board.

Its obvious  that  they are in the early summer of  youth; too young to be part of any conspiracy. 

But Crassus, ever an efficient man has already worked out the logistics.

“ Requisition the wood from the ship building yards and line the breakwater with their crosses.”

The captains glance toward the boys did not go unnoticed.

“ And I mean all of them.

Tonight we will discuss your future career captain.

Now get out of my site...”

A centurion approaches Crassus.

As a person of trust he does not have to stand in line to await an audience.

“ Greetings dear Sejanus. What news ?”

“ Ave my general, it’s confirmed that Spartacus is heading to the coast for a rendezvous with pirates.

As of yet we have not been able to  capture any of their vessels.”

Crassus rolls his eyes in frustration.

Sejanus continues’ “ I also have a request from the cross maker.

He says that there’s an additional cost for the use of the leg spreading plank.”

Crassus frowns.

“ Tell that little bastard I’m not happy that he’s already charging extra for the use of the sedile.

If he keeps raising the cost then I’ll get crucifixioner services elsewhere.

He isn’t the only one to supply me with crosses…”

Sejanus bows his head in acknowledgement.

“No , Sejanus wait!

The slaves have to be displayed in absolute anguish so that all Rome might know my power.

I can’t give Pompey any excuse to portray me as weak in any way.

The leg spreader adds obscenity to anguish and will send both slave and free man alike a potent message.

Rebellion is not be tolerated and will be punished.

Tell the cross maker to keep the costs down or he may end up on one of the devices of his own making...”

Sejanus salutes and walks off to visit to the cross makers work shop.

Crassus reads the scroll that Sejanus has given him.

It’s a summary of the movements of Spartacus and the spartacanii accomplices. He  refuses to call them an army. He snaps his fingers without looking up and calls ‘ next!’

A sleazy looking man in  a turban approaches and bows low.

“ My lord Crassus, may I make the humble suggestion that you can offset some

of your losses?”

Crassus doesn’t like dealing with his type. But he’s a businessman and gives the man audience.

“ Go on.”

“ Might I suggest that the condemned galley slaves be consigned to my brothel for the night.

They will fetch a good price entertaining the upper classes for a short time, before meeting there well earned demise in the morning.”

Crassus admires the mans complete lack of morality and total disregard for the upcoming crucifixions.

Turban continues.

“ Some of the slaves are still virgin and you would honour the gods of Eros, should you allow their deflowerment by patrons and matrons skilled in such mysteries. They will pay handsomely for the privilege.”

Crassus stares at the man, but can spot no ounce of empathy or compassion for the plight of the galley slaves.

He is pleased.

“ I will of course split the profits with you sir.”

Crassus sighs with boredom

“ That’s so nice of you to offer me your services Abdul, however your concern for the slaves virginity is uncalled for.

My cross maker caters for the unlikely event of virginity by deflowering them on the sedile…

Abdul looks at the ground.

Obviously disappointed that he may lose the deal.

Crassus taps the scroll in one hand delicately on a clenched fist.

“ However I do see some merit in supplying the upper classes with a nights entertainment.

Just make sure their names are recorded and tell them I will expect their vote in the senate…

The brothel owners face lights up, but Crassus has already  made sure the deal is favorable to his own interests.

“ But as  there is cost to me.

I have to make sure I post soldiers so that none of them escapes.

Let’s say the profit split is sixty twenty in my favour.”

Abdul knows better than to try to haggle with Crassus. He bows away to the accountants table and the contract is drawn up.

The Centurion in charge of the soldiers who will accompany the slaves to the brothel is summoned over to the generals presence.

“ Take a hundred of them over to Abduls whore house.  Pick the ones likely to be virgin and the randy ones who are always trying to get into each others bones in the slave holding quarters. Make sure the entertainment finishes by dawn.”

The centurion salutes. But Crassus doesn’t dismiss him immediately.

“Under no circumstances are they know the fate awaits them on the morrow.

I want every one of them impaled and screaming on the cross before the heat of the day sets in…”

“ Yes sir ! ”

The centurion snaps to attention and moves off with purpose.

Mean while in a side street, not far from the docks, the cross maker has a team of men at work.

Sejanus steps in from the street.

“ You’ve been very innovative Crixus.”

Crixus puts down the stout wooden peg that he’s sanding into the shape of a smooth mushroom shaped head.

“ Yes business is good Sejanus.”

He smiles at his old friend.

A short while later the two sit together at a wooden table.

Crixus is frustrated.

“ But Sejanus, I have cut expenses to the bone!

As it is I supply free wooden washers when they receive the nails through wrists and ankles; granted they are off cuts, but even so there is a cost...”

Sejanus drinks from the shared wine pitcher.

“ And that is appreciated by the general.

However  the number of crosses required is going to increase.

Surely you can do him the honour of giving a bulk discount…”

Crixus chokes on the wine that he’s about to swallow.

He looks wide eyed at Sejanus.

“ More crucifixions ?

You’ve got to be joking ?

As it is I have to send men to reclaim the crucifixion nails.

Crassus, the wily old goat only rents them…”

Sejanus puts down his clay wine beaker slowly and with purpose.

His voice is latent with menace.

“ Careful Crixus. You and I are friends.

But I am the generals man.

Dishonour his name and you will be added to the list.

You are not Roman and you know what that means.”

The blood drains from the cross makers face.

He knows he’s on dangerous ground….

“ I apologise Sejanus.

I would never willingly dishonour the good generals name.

Please ignore my foolish slip of tongue.”

Sejanus holds his beaker out for Crixus to re-fill.

“ Request granted.

Now tell me what you know of the Interference of the legionnaire deserters crosses…”

Crixus visibly shudders.

Word gets around quickly that there are fresh brothel slaves to be had. Particularly when Abdul the owner dispatches messengers to his more exclusive  clients.

The slaves are attached in groups of ten to a slave chain and marched up from the docks. They sit in the large atrium of the exclusive whore house, still in shackles. Abdul addresses them.

“ Greetings my fine young athletes.

Tonight you have been granted the privilege of entertaining some of romes finest.”

The slaves look at each other in disbelief and  surprise.

“ Those of you who cooperate will enjoy the delights of carnality to share and partake of.

His words fall silent as he surveys the group of muscular, nubile slaves.

“ And what happens to us in the morning.”

There is silence as the slave who threw the question gets to his feet.

“ Will we be returned to the galley? 

Or are we to be consigned here to play Nancy boy to whatever rich, over fed roman fart wants our arses?”

He is one of the oldest named Hanan. His muscles were gained due to the constant exercise and appropriate diet he had received as a gladiator.

But his mouth and arrogance had got him relegated to the galley.

Abdul stares at him like a snake hypnotizing its prey.

“ Those of you who do not wish to imbibe in the sex feast are under no obligation and can opt out, you will be returned from whence you came.”

His voice is so reasonable that most of the slaves think they have a choice.

One by one they are unshackled and go willingly to the baths.

Hanan is one of the last but he is grabbed either side by burly attendant who place him in manacles.

A short while later he along with a couple of other trouble makers are marched back towards the docks.

Hanans eyes grow wide at the site of empty crosses that laying on the ground, along the length of the rock pier.

It’s not long before he stands naked in front of a cross laying on the ground.

It already has the  sedile attached with an obscene painted dildo sticking up at an angle four soldiers surround him.

“ Sit on it.”

One of them orders him.

Seagulls take flight, startled by the shrill screams that come from Hanan.

The soldiers (not impressed with his resistance) drop him onto the object of his anguish and rope him in place.

“ There you are big mouth.

If you don’t fancy roman cock then  you can star gaze on a wooden dildo until the morning.”

They move on to the others who are deemed unworthy of the whore house.

Some of them beg not to be dropped and are given the choice to squat over the peg.

The soldiers rope them in place then move off to stand guard.

The penetration is of a more passive nature, but the odd scream is still heard as the peg finds its way into another anus.

Meanwhile back at the whore house the slaves are bathed and dressed in fresh clothes. They sit passively waiting to be allocated a client.

The smells of fresh baked bread and meat waft, tantalizingly from the kitchen and they hope that they will get fed.

“ Oh well this isn’t too bad  a punishment for poor performance Bjorn.

You know you could have rowed a bit harder when the drum beat  signaled pick up the pace.

Bjorn is a beautiful looking youth with blonde hair and blue eyes.

He retained his original name when captured and taken as war bounty,  in the tribal wars  of Gaul.

Oh well Lucian, that’s the bloody idiot Romans for you. They didn’t guess that we were doing it on purpose.”

Like the others he’s been stripped and dressed in a small gold posing pouch with string sides.

His tanned shoulders bare more than a couple of welts.

He sits next to Lucian and speaks quietly so that Uther can’t hear.

“The galley captain must be really stupid to think that we would take part in destroying an ally of Spartacus, even if it means ending up as brothel meat.”

Lucian is Bjorn’s bench mate. Both boys are close to the same age of fifteen summers, although Bjorn looks younger.

Lucian knows that the Bjorn is more talk than action.

Gifted with the arrogance of youth, he thinks he’s invincible. Lucian warns him to be quiet.

Uther has been studying the two young slaves as they sit chained together.

He’s in his mid twenties, old for a galley slave.

Bjorn and Lucian never liked the way that he leered at them when they first came on board; and it didn’t go unnoticed that he often sprouted a third leg, when chained behind the young Viking  and his friend Lucian.

“Shut up you two. Talk like that will get us all killed.

Never mouth those words again, or the captain won’t have to kill you.”

Uther has menace in his voice.

At that moment two brothel attendants come in to prepare them for the night’s entertainment...

Uther is herded off to a private booth.

They pull open the curtains to reveal a large bed with on which reclines a fat old Roman senator...

He dribbles when he sees the respectable size Uthers phallus, tucked in its black leather pouch. It doesn’t take him long to tuck into the pleasure dish that Abduls whore house has served up.

The old Roman is an adept at true slave bondage. Uthers' gasp of surprise and anguish is muffled by the pinch of a leather mouth gag.

“Now that’s better my young friend.”

He pants out the words with excitement.

The Sprigs of mint he’s chewed are an attempt to mask his wine sodden breath.

But Uther can still smell the sour wine.

It’s not long before the black leather posing pouch lays crumpled on the bed.

The old pervert picks it up and begins gently milking the slave.

It doesn’t take long before he wipes Uthers’ exposed mushroom, it glistens with drops of pre-cum.

“ Hmm... so nubile.   So full of cum.”

He sniffs at the stained posing pouch.

“It would be remiss of me not to get keep sake from you.”

Uther lays bound arms and legs wide open. Face down on the bed.

The roman works his way underneath his naked crotch and the slave feels a finger at the entrance of his glory hole.

“Try and relax.”

The old Roman whispers as he prepares to suckle Uthers large rigid cock.

 

“Thrust your hips in and out and you will get great pleasure.”

Uther feels the Romans hands grope and fondle him as his very arse crack is pulled and spread open.

Face flushed red in shame and embarrassment, the slave buries his head into the silken pillows and receives a bolus of sticky hashish, from the old perverts’ longest finger.

Uther lets go a long, low moan as the finger slides into him.

He dribbles spit and gags at the leather in his mouth.

The hash does Its work and it doesn’t take long for his resistance to fade.

  The old Roman follows up with a stout ivory dildo.

Uther lifts his hairy arse high in submission.

The senator is pleased with the view of the slaves’ ball sack swinging gently and his cock rigid as any stallion.

“That’s better.”

The old man pulls on Others’ long black hair. It makes the slave arch his back.

With his other hand he continues a slow push and twist of the ivory horn.

Uther grunts as he takes it up the arse.

He thinks of the other slaves and their naked, sweat oiled bodies.

Familiar desire excites and burns inside of him as he thinks of Lucian and Bjorn and imagines that one of them is doing the honors on his glory hole.

His mind drifts to the smirk on the face of the carnivex, the slave punisher who paced the isles, looking for any sign of laziness.

Flesh quivers at the smack of the carnivex’s leather whip and Uthers’’ erection stands rigid in another time and place.

In his minds eye he anticipates the administration of punishment to come, preferably on one of the younger galley slaves and  he face fucks the old senator with vigour.

In Uthers hash fuelled imagination the warm mouth that suckles and swallows at his large throbbing cock, belongs to Lucian or better still Bjorn.

The old man knows that the hash has done its job.

Uther is too stoned to resist and his bonds are untied as he is entered from behind.

The slave lets go a moan of absolute ecstasy as his rising orgasm comes on...

The roman unbuckles Uthers leather gag and thrusts deep, feeling the warmth and tightness of the slave’s firm round arse.

“I can feel you don’t get much of a work out arse wise”

He quips.

“In fact at a guess,

I would say you’re tight enough to be a virgin.

But doesn’t worry I wont tell anyone.”

Uther is in a state of trance and ecstasy. He has surrendered to the rare pleasure sent to him by the gods of Homos.

Their gift to him is the Romans throbbing instrument that impales him and delivers him into unexplored realms of ecstasy and agony.

Fuelled with a mixture of aphrodisiacs (supplied by the brothel at extra cost of course) the roman continues to arse fuck the slave like there’s no tomorrow.

Uther rides high on the old Romans pork sword. He no longer wants to kill the old fart who has delivered him to such heights of undreamed of, rampant, pleasure.

Unbound from his bonds and out of sight of the other galley slaves, he is a willing slut, that enjoys being fucked on the senator’s rigid cock.

He  finds his voice.

“Oh… I” 

But it trails off as he receives another bout of phallus ramming.

He gasps.

“I didn’t think…”

In and out and in and out again, he receives the senator’s thick, throbbing battering ram.

“It would be like this …..”

There’s a brief silence.

He moans, and then lets out a long low sigh.

He thrusts his hips up and down in the lewdest of manner.

The two of them are now fucking in one smooth synchronized rhythm.

Up down, in out.

The senator( who is on his vinegar) strokes grunts out his satisfaction.

Uther has totally surrendered to the being impaled on a throbbing cock.

He rides and moans with legs spread wide; in an ecstasy of rampant sex agony,

he continues to fuck himself up and down on the old Romans rigid thunder rod.

And has no shame at surrendering to the sheer lust, of a man ramming another man...

Uther let’s out a gasp of anguish.

” Oh master.”

There’s a brief silence whilst he gains his breath.

“ Master your too big.

Please grant me the mercy of a gentler ride…”

“Silence slut. Take it like a man.”

Is the reply accorded him.

For his insolence he is rewarded with the most rapid of ramming that the old

Romans can muster.

The recalcitrant slave lets go a squeal and is rocked by potent orgasm.

He spurts a thick wad of jism and feels the warm spurt of cum that dribbles out of his aching ring of fire.

The Romans pulls Uthers cheeks apart and looks with satisfaction at the brown eye winking back at him. It is affirmation of the his own virility in the potency of the act.

He is pleased that at the age of thirty five he can still give a slave a good ramming. 

A short while later the roman prepares to leave.

“Abdul your services have been impeccable.”

The brothel keeper l bows low.

The senator hands over a sack of gold coin and turns to leave.

He pauses at the door step.

“I take it he doesn’t know?”

Abdul nods.

“No sir, none of them do.”

“Ti’s a shame indeed, to waste such talent”

With an air of manufactured compassion the senator hands the brothel keeper some extra coin...

“ Here, see to it that he gets another ball of hashish before being consigned to the cross…”

He climbs into the waiting sedan chair and heads home to his wife and children. 

A short while later an attendant walks past Abdul carrying some small clay pots.

Abdul challenges.

“Where are you going with those?”

The attendant bows.

“A certain matron requires ingredients for an invigorating face cream that is known to restore youthful looks sir.”

Abdul nods his permission to carry on.

He knows that an even higher price can be gained from such a cream if the main ingredient is acquired from a donor hanged on the cross.

He makes a note do the deal with a certain executioner.

“Wait. Leave a pot with this one.”

A sadist matron enters carrying a small multi strand whip.

She flicks it at a couple of flies.

Abdul ever the accommodating host bows low. “

Ah... yes my lady that is a fine penis whip.

I have just the right candidate for you…”

Meanwhile Uther lays snoozing  on the bed, awaiting the next client.

An effeminate looking customer wearing make up and a wig arrives.

“In truth it is such a waste to see such youthful slaves condemned.

It would be the granting of a small mercy to allow them to introduce each other to the pleasure of homos.”

Abdul understands the voyeur’s request.

A short while later Bjorn is dressed in gold sandals to match the small string posing pouch he wears.

“Yes he’s beautiful but something’s missing .”

The wardrobe attendant consults with the voyeur.

“Ah yes that is simple but complete.”

The attendant has placed a matching gold cap on him, in a parody of the Norse god Thor.

“Oh yes. Simply stunning. Now turn around and flex.”

The voyeur is excited when he sets eyes on Bjorn who is virtually nude when seen side on.

His sculpted abs and contoured thighs, complement his tanned near nude body.

His friend Lucian grins and stares at him with emerald colour eyes.

Bjorn pokes his tongue out at him, his blue eyes compliment the illusion that he’s a Norse god.

Lucian smiles through pearl white teeth and his ebony coloured skin ripples with well muscled suppleness of youth.

Dressed as Eros the god of love, the posing pouch he wears, is made fine braid silk, impregnated with tiny flecks of silver.

A large circumcised cock can be seen hiding comfortably behind the sheer material.

“ Now  boys you two are going to do a ‘role play for the customer’.

Make sure you do as he says or you will be replaced.”

Bjorn, Lucian and the customer are escorted to a large bedroom.

“ Thank you Abdul. I will call you if you’re needed.”

  The customer closes the door.

He is a rich wine maker and can afford the very best. He spares no expense when it comes to his sexual proclivities.

The simple fact is that he likes to watch.

He allows both boys to drink deeply of the wine that sits on a table next to the large bed.

The voyeur orders Lucian and Bjorn to wrestle for each others clothes and he gets very excited when they roll on the bed like junior gladiators.

Lucian scores the first piece of clothing ( a small golden sash) of Bjorn and the voyeur claps with pleasure.

Not to be outdone, Bjorn whisks away his partners flimsy lap lap that is tucked in front of the see through pouch.

They both wrestle, feeling the heat of each others bodies. Challenging the strength of each others will, in a friendly, erotic combat that any youth would enjoy, once they lower the inhibition of societies indoctrination.

It doesn’t take long for the wine laced with aphrodisiacs to take effect on the voyeur and the two nubile young slaves.

He drinks in the site before him.

Bjorn lays face down naked except for the  string that disappears into the contours of his tanned, firm, young arse.

His  calf muscles are criss crossed with golden bindings attached to jewel encrusted sandals.

The voyeur can not resist unwinding Bjorn’s bindings and removing the sandals. The young Vikings feet are clean from the baths.

His ivory toe nails have been expertly clipped by the Egyptian slaves that attended him and small flecks of gold sparkle, from the nail paint that adorns him.

( The voyeurs mind wanders back to the time he first purchased his vineyard from the Roman liquidators.

The previous owner had been murdered by one of his slaves and they all paid the required penalty.

In his eagerness to get a bargain the voyeur was one of the first on the scene and the crucifixions were still in progress.

He remembers the site of a youth who could have been the very twin of Bjorn, writhing and moving up and down on the cross.

It was the first time he had seen a crucifixion close up and although he recognised the deed as a terrible act, he also felt a strange stirring of desire. 

The Romans pushed the youths legs high on either side of the upright and captured the ankles tight with a short rope noose.

A couple of turns of the stout stick (that acted as a handle) immobilized the feet for the nails.

The wine merchant felt true shame and his heart melted at the screams produced from nails relentlessly smacked into each ankle.

He found himself standing up close, staring directly at the black iron spikes fixed with a wooden washer under the heel bone of each foot.

He watched the long slender toes curl and the once beautiful feet become swollen, black and engorged with blood.

An executioner  felt the slaves calves to make sure that they were at the correct angle, bent up on the cross.

He did not want to have to pull the nails and reposition him due to incorrect positioning and he knew that the work would be punctiliously checked.

Satisfied that the deed had been done in the correct manner, he pulled the noose free and the slave literally stood on his spiked feet...

The executioners pull away the small cloth that covered his crotch and walk away to perform the same service on the others.

They leave him naked and screaming before the peg man arrives to fix the sedile)

“ Very nice boys.

I think that wresting  match was a tie.

You should reward each other with a nice massage…”

Lucian ( at the voyeurs direction) massages from the tip of his friends supple shoulders down to the firm cheeks of his bottom.

Bjorn has opens his legs and buries his head into the silk pillow.

The strength of his galley mates kneading fingers and massaging hands are a pleasure that is painful, new and delightful to him.

The fat Roman is pleased.

He pours more wine for all three of them…

“ Very good.

Now sit atop him and kiss him gently on the back of neck.”

Bjorn feels Lucian pause.

His heart starts to beat faster as he feels the warmth of his galley mate, seated on his firm young buns.

He smells the sweet smell of honey wine as his friend leans forward and whispers in his ear.

“ This old prick is enjoying himself.”

“ So am I, comes the muffled reply.”

Lucian nips him gently on the ear lobe for his insolence.

“ Yes very good.

I like that.

It’s good to take the initiative.”

The voyeur sits on the end of the bed with his hand under his tunic.

“ Keep going.”

Bjorn breaks out into goose bumps of delight as Lucians warm moist tongue licks him. He tastes Bjorn’s delicious flavor as he kisses his friend from behind, at the neck and smells the blondes delicately scented hair, fresh from the bath house.

He continues kissing and licking, down past the young blondes shoulders and lower.

Bjorn lets out a little giggle.

“ Shoosh…!”

The roman puts a finger to his lips.

“ Now move down towards his bum.”

Lucian arrives at the top of Bjorn’s crack and pauses for a moment.

Bjorn’s heart beats faster.

He feels the delightful kiss of Lucians warm, moist lips at the top of his bun crack and lifts off the bed  in rising ecstasy and excitement.

“ Yes yes good.

Keep going!”

The voyeur instructs.

Lucian needs no further  urging as he is works Bjorn’s nubile body with new found expertise.

He feels his posing pouch tent out with the rigidity.

His thunder rod stiffens with excitement of a powerful tingle that runs from the base of his prick, to the thick, throbbing mushroom of its head. The result of pressing his own belly low onto the bed.

Bjorn anticipates the move and he raises his hips in submission to the act of which he is about to be inducted.

Lucian is  excited at the freedom of rampant sex that the situation affords him.

He pulls gently on  the knot at the back of Bjorn’s thong.

It falls away, leaving Bjorn totally nude.

His rigid prick is no longer a bound captive and it wags up and down.

Face down and buried in the smooth pillows, arse up and balls swinging, he waits for his friend to take him.

“ Wait! don’t give it to him too fast.

Make him wait a little”

The voyeur is well pleased as he gets a good view of the young Vikings tight, clean, pink, glory hole…

He waits, enjoying the shame and embarrassment that is the product of his lewd position. He whimpers softly as it comes.

The delicate kiss of Lucians tongue into the most intimate of his private places.

Bjorn moans in sheer delight.

He feels his arse cheeks spread wide by Lucians thumbs.

His buried face is flushed red with excitement as he experiences sheer joy at the rampant probing of his most private of privates.

The Voyeur continues to direct the action of his surprised but not unwilling sex protégés.

“ Now turn him over and lay on top of him.

Start kissing.”

Lucians throbbing prick lays on top of his friends member which is in the same state of arousal.

They lock in a tight embrace as they tongue each other in a manner of unbridled, rampant passion.

The roman continues to stare, drool and touch himself.

“ Oh beautiful, I’ve never seen such passion.

Ebony and Ivory, a perfect couple.

keep going.”

Bjorn never dreamed that he could experience such pure delight. He reaches down to  the string that holds Lucians pouch in place.

It drops away and finally he feels the warmth and rigidity of his friends uncovered weapon.

They lock in a passionate embrace and their bodies entwine as they both wank each other spontaneously.

“ Beautiful, that’s what I like.

Initiative.”

The voyeur has stripped himself totally naked and is masturbating himself.

Lucian kisses blonde Bjorn’s brown rose bud nipples that are chubby with excitement.

He sucks on them and gives a delicate nip that makes Bjorn gasp.

He  kisses his way gently down past the firm ridge of Bjorn’s abdominals toward the belly button and beyond.

Bjorn needs no urging to open his legs wide.

He submits to his friends warm tongue that licks him in the most delightful and rampant of manners.

With eyes closed he feels the soft velvet tongue follow the rough ridge that runs up from his papps to his ball sack.

Lucians  tongue flicks in and out from in between pearl white teeth as Bjorn’s balls jig in their scrotal sack and become firm.

“ Good. Don’t delay.

Go down on him!”

The order comes with urgency.

But the voyeurs direction has faded to the background.

Both slave boys are now locked in rampant love making of their own device.

Bjorn feels his wagging prick become captive to the warm velvet mouth of Lucian. He breathes heavily at the sheer delight of experiencing virgin felatio.

Lucian holds him on the ridge of one hand. Bjorn lays face up, eyes closed with hands locked behind his head. He responds by lifting his hips  high and begins to thrust his hips  in and out.

He can feel the thumb at the entrance to his glory hole and it gives him sheer rampant pleasure as he starts to slow fuck his friends mouth.

The deep throat cock suck and ridge riding thumb fuck combined, prepares him to receive Lucians rod, which is rigid as any black stallion.

It’s not long before Bjorn’s prick twitches and jerks.

Impaled on Lucians mushroom head cock he lifts higher to accommodate the pulse and throb of the black slaves thrusts.

It doesn’t take long before he moans and lets out a small shrill shriek.

Lucian  bends down still inside Bjorn and tastes the salt of  jism.

“ Oh Bravo, Boys, Bravo”

The voyeur has orgasmed at the same time.

“ Now turn him over and do it again.

This time enter from behind.”

Abdul who is peeking through a spy hole smiles.

Eyes wide and flushed with sweat, Lucian lays on top of his friend and gets ready to comply with the order.

“ Here this will help.

Smear him well and spear him slow.”

The voyeur hands Lucian  a small pot of honey.

“ Make him yell if you like.”

Bjorn is wide eyed at the comment. His blonde hair drips sweat and his prick still throbs from the ecstasy of his first orgasm instigated by his first lover.

He  raises his legs  and spreads to accommodate the firm mushroom of Lucians prick ready to spear him again.

“ Oh you dirty little blonde  vixen.

You really like it.”

The voyeur is excited again.

“ Make sure you give him what he wants.

Fuck him like there’s no tomorrow”

Abdul still peeking through the spy hole smiles at the comment. Satisfied that things are going well, he returns to the banquet hall downstairs.

Bjorn is excited by the voyeurs shameful goading. He lowers his head giving the signal of consent. Lucian gives it to him slowly. Locked in the agony and ecstasy of first time sex they both become one.

The roman sits back wiping his pale sweat ridden face with using Lucians discarded  silk croth covering.

” Brilliant, just brilliant!”

He takes a long swig of wine then gasps then falls back onto his seat.

“ I think he’s dead.”

“ What ?”

“ Yep he’s definitely gone to Hades.

Come on its time to leave”

They climb out of the window onto the tiled roof awning.

Down below, the whole building is surrounded by armed soldiers that escorted them to the brothel.

They are busy attaching slaves that have served their purpose onto a long chain, ready for the march back.

“ Shit there’s to many of them.

We’ll never get past the guard.” Bjorn whispers.

Lucian looks upward. “

Yes we can. Follow me and be quiet.

They take a short jump and pull themselves up to the flat roof of the building.

Of typical roman design its so close to next door that they can easily jump.

A soldier looks upward to see a bare arsed Eros, followed by golden sandal  Loki wearing a winged helmet, vanish into the night.  

He staggers slightly and dismisses it as the reward for accepting the wine offered by generous hosts. He knows if he gives an alarm and is found drunk on duty, the penalty will be severe…

To be continued by request….

Sejanus

(Scene the docks,)

“ Come on you lot. Let’s be having you.”

The slaves are shackled and placed in line on a chain ready to be marched back to the docks some are naked some wear a small covering. 

Some of them stagger along still drunk and or under the influence of Roman orgy aphrodisiacs.

Two of them look at each others penises fully erect.

And  laugh in unrestrained mirth at the aroused state of each other.

“Come on you two; stop admiring each others phallic bindings and fall into line. You’re presence is required dockside immediately.”

The roman soldier smirks at them, he knows that they’ll be laughing on the other side of their faces when the drugs wear off, but is happy that they cooperate with his orders.

The officer in charge is not amused.

“ Oh shit, half of them are still drunk or stoned. Get a bloody cart for them, we cant hang around”

They load the slaves unable to walk into a cart supplied by Abdul and it trundles off behind the slave chain, it’s occupants happily singing bawdy ballads.

Abdul fails to mention the absence without leave of Bjorn and Lucian. But ever the brilliant problem solver, he has come up with a simple solution. Two dumb eunuchs have replaced them .

The jetty is  lined with rows of empty crosses laying flat on the ground.

Roman soldiers stand bye.

The centurion calls an order.

“Hang the ones at the end of the chain first.”

“Which one is mine?” 

A slave, still in a stoned daze cheerfully asks.

His cross lays next to Uther’s. 

“Make sure those two can see each other disgrace themselves”

The supervising centurion orders.

True to his word the crucifixions begin on time. One by one the slaves are roped, pegged and nailed.

Each cross is then heaved up and dropped into the space in between the rocks, either side of the breakwater.

Screaming, they writhe in torment trying to wrench free of the nails that bite through their wrists and ankles.

They rock the very crosses on which they hang

Later they will  exhaust themselves and grow quiet as occasional  moans of anguish can be heard.

The sun bleeds up over the horizon against a deep blue sky and Crassus is pleased.

“ Yes I like the symmetry of the crosses extending out to the edge of the pier ”

He watches executioners move along the line doing a final check on ropes, nails and pegs. Occasionally a crucified screams and  erupts into fresh spasms of jerking up and  down on the cross.

The hammer steps back wiping fresh blood from his face and leather apron.

The job of  administering a couple of surety blows to the spikes in wrists and ankles complete.