by J. P. Bowie
He knelt before me, taking me into his mouth, his lips and tongue skillfully bringing me to a full erection. I looked down at his upturned face and stroked the fine, short-cropped hair that crowned his head. His hands kneaded my buttocks as he sucked, and I could hear Papni’s breathing become hard and labored. I didn’t dare look at the fat man for fear of what he might be doing to himself at that moment. Instead, I concentrated on what Lysis was doing to my cock with a fervent dedication.
The heat of his mouth was making me lightheaded. There was no doubt that the young slave was gifted in the art of bringing another man pleasure. His sparkling eyes never left my face as he sucked. I groaned, and my head fell back as I gave in to the ecstasy that flooded over me. He released my cock, and stood slowly, his tongue snaking a trail from my groin up over my torso to my lips. His kiss was delicate, the tip of his tongue darting in and out of my mouth, teasing me with its flirtatious playfulness.
He turned within my arms and presented his bottom to me, grasping my cock and guiding it into himself with the flair of a born catamite. He didn’t even grunt as I plunged in, and the lack of resistance surprised me. How slick and moist he felt. Obviously, young Lysis had prepared himself ahead of time, knowing what was to be expected of him, as it had been, perhaps, many times before. He was certainly skilled in the art of sexual union. I gasped as the muscles in his anus clenched and unclenched around my manhood. I gripped his slim hips and pulled him in closer to me. He moaned, and to his credit, it did not sound practiced. I began to believe that I was actually bringing him pleasure.
He straightened his back and leaned against my chest, his arms encircling my torso while he ground his buttocks rhythmically against my groin. I wrapped my arms around him and gave in to the waves of rapture that surged over me. His hands on my hips, Lysis sank to the floor, and I followed taking care not to break our union. His pelvis arched upward and I thrust hard into him. He groaned as I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him to his knees, driving my cock even deeper inside him.
I reached for his erection, rubbing my thumb over the glistening head that leaked his essence over my fingers. He raised himself, one arm encircling my neck, bringing our mouths together for a kiss that was as passionate as any I’d ever received before, his tongue swirling inside my wet heat until I found myself gasping with unadulterated ecstasy. We moved together as one now. Lysis met every deep thrust I inflicted on him with a powerful rhythm that had us both moaning out loud.
He climaxed with a gurgle of joy, and I orgasmed with such blinding intensity I thought for a moment I had passed out. I could hear Papni applauding with delight. After a moment or two I freed myself from Lysis’ delicious depths and turned to look at my benefactor who, I was happy to see, was fully clothed, and smiling expansively.
“Beautifully done, Lucius! You have made Lysis and myself very happy indeed. You were all he talked of last night. I felt it only fair that I let him enjoy you as much as I did.”
Lysis grinned at me as he first washed my cock and balls with a damp cloth kept handily nearby, then helped me dress. When he was done, he planted a light kiss on my lips. Papni patted the cushion by his side, indicating that I should sit by him.
“Some wine to celebrate your completing our agreement.” He handed me a goblet filled to the brim.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking at the still naked Lysis. I had the feeling that the clothes he had worn earlier were for show only.
“Remember what I told you last night, Lucius,” Papni said. “Anytime you have need of help, you can come to me.”
When I arrived home, I felt strangely saddened by the night’s events. The previous night, I had been overwhelmed by the bizarreness of the whole situation, and the potion Papni had given me had lent an unreal atmosphere to what had followed. But tonight, although Lysis had seemed genuinely happy that I had fucked him, I couldn’t help but feel there was a certain amount of debasement in what he had to endure at his master’s whim. I was sure that he’d had to bend over for many of Papni’s guests—not all of whom he would have looked upon favorably.
As I lay in the warm bath water that Rollus, my manservant, always had ready for me at night before bed, I think, for the first time in my life, I truly appreciated the fact that I was a free man; able to make my own decisions, and my own way in life. The idea of being a slave to someone like Papni, benign as he obviously could be, caused me to feel uneasy about what I had done to Lysis. Yes, he had been willing, but my own eagerness had come from the relief of having sex with someone young and pretty, rather than a grotesque. I suppose not many would deny that given the choice they would have made the same decision. Yet, there was nothing I had done that night of which I could be proud.
× × × × ×
In the days that followed my visit to Venel Papni’s house, I was caught up in a flurry of activity that involved my new teaching positions. I had no idea it would prove to be so time consuming, but of course the preparations for each class had to be completed at night, as the first class began at sunrise.
Petronius came to visit late one afternoon as I was preparing for my next day’s lesson, in my study. I had not seen him since the day of my father’s funeral, and our moment of tenderness in the orchard. He greeted me with a warm hug, his eyes sparkling with news.
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Of the unrest over at the gladiator school,” he said. “I thought you, of all people, would have heard.”
“I have been working, Petronius. And besides, why me, of all people?”
“I heard what happened at the arena. How the big Gaul saluted you.”
“Oh, that… I think he had me confused with someone else.”
Petronius stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Mmm. Well anyway, apparently, Lentullus Batiatus had quite a scene on his hands. It took all his guards to subdue the rioters.”
“What were they rioting about?” I asked, now giving him all my attention.
“Not sure. Probably the terrible conditions they have to endure. But from what I understand, they’ve had to cancel all the scheduled games at the arena, until punishment is complete.”
“Punishment?”
“Well, yes. He can’t have those slaves thinking they can get away with causing riots.”
Punishment. My mind conjured up a vision of Callistus tied to a whipping post, his back scarred and bleeding.
“Was the Gaul involved?”
“How should I know?” Petronius gave me a quizzical look. “Are you still under the barbarian’s spell?”
“Of course not.” I looked away from his steady gaze.
“Oh, Lucius…” He sighed heavily. “You cannot be serious, surely.”
“I said I’m not, didn’t I?” I stood up unable to quell my anger. “I know it’s an impossible situation, and I am trying to put it—put him out of my mind, but it doesn’t help when people constantly remind me of his existence!”
“Well, at least you recognize the fact that it’s impossible.”
I glared at him. “And now the arena will be closed for the gods know how long, so there’s no chance I can even see him there again, is there?”
“Lucius, calm down. Your mother will hear your ranting.”
I slumped back down on my chair and buried my head in my hands. “Oh, Petronius, what can I do about this? I think of him, night and day!”
He stroked my hair gently. “Poor Lucius,” he murmured. “Perhaps it’s time you thought of taking a wife.”
Stunned, I looked up at him as if he were quite mad. “A wife? There could not be anything further from my mind.” I peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Are you telling me something here?”
He nodded. “I’m thinking of asking Claudius Cimber’s daughter, Aurelia, to marry me.”
“By the gods,” I muttered. “Now I have heard everything.”
He bridled at my remark. “You think that so improbable? I have alw
ays intended to marry someone. It’s expected—even of you.”
“Even of me. Thank you for that, Petronius. I am glad you hold me in such high esteem.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. You know any girl would be happy to marry you.”
“Of course, my happiness means nothing.”
Petronius sighed with impatience. “There’s just no talking to you today. I’ll come back when you’re in a better mood.”
“Talk of my marrying again, and that might be never!”
He stood up. “I’ll just go pay my respects to you mother.” He dropped a kiss on top of my head, leaving me alone to fester.
Gods, but why did the very mention of Callistus send me into a frenzy of emotion that I could not hide from my friends? And now, this news of a riot at the ludo. What if he’d been hurt, maimed for life? How could I find out? Would Cassius know, perhaps? He lived only a few houses away. I waited until I heard Petronius leave, then I told my mother I was going to visit Cassius and would not be very long.
“I’ll be back before supper,” I told her, and left.
Cassius was entertaining a familiar looking person when I hailed him from his courtyard gate. “Come on in, Lucius, dear boy,” he cried on seeing me. He indicated the other man. “You know Lentullus Batiatus, of course.”
“Indeed, sir.” I inclined my head politely, not quite believing my good luck in finding the lanista there. Now I would hear of what had transpired from the source of all sources. “Are things well with you?”
“Not at all,” Lentullus grumped, shaking his head rapidly back and forth, causing his ample chins to jiggle up and down. “Have you not heard about the disaster I have endured?”
“The riot, yes I heard about that.” I attempted a solicitous look. “Has it been contained?”
“Indeed, yes. The four blackguards who incited the others are in chains, and there they will remain until they either recant or starve.”
“Four of them?” My hand trembled slightly as I accepted a cup of wine from Cassius.
“Four of the best, damn them to Hades,” Lentullus hissed. “Including Spartacus, and another I had high hopes for.” My heart sank even before he uttered the name. “Callistus, the Gaul.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “The one for whom you felt much admiration, I seem to remember.”
“And the one who saluted our young friend here, at the end of his bout with Spartacus,” Cassius added, much to my chagrin.
“You are the one?” Now Lentullus’s eyes became tiny slits as he peered into my face. “By Jupiter, I’d not thought the Gaul so free with his feelings. It’s hard for anyone to get one word out of him—save Spartacus of course.”
My mind raced as I listened to Lentullus speak, then I said, “Is it not counterproductive to have the men chained and starved while the arena must remain closed by order of the consul, until they are suitably punished? Would it not be better to declare the danger of further trouble unlikely, and get the men back into the arena as quickly as possible?” I smiled as if at a fellow conspirator as I spoke. “You know how the people hate to have the arena closed, and surely it is financially ruinous to prolong the situation.”
The ludo owner looked incredulous. “Are you saying I should not punish them?”
“I’m saying, you declare the punishment done, the men thoroughly repentant, and let the games begin!”
“Impossible. They would think I’d gone soft, and would take immediate advantage.”
“Tell me…” I was trying not to sound accusatory. “Why did the men riot in the first place? What was their complaint?”
Lentullus shrugged. “Some piffle about a young gladiator being beaten by my guards. The wretch deserved what he got after his useless display in the arena.”
“You mean they were defending one of their own.”
“One of their own? My dear young Lucius...” Lentullus stared at me as if I were mad. “These men are slaves. They are my property, to use as I see fit. They have no rights. And above all, I cannot have them banding together, regarding each other as friends. They are gladiators, trained to fight one another.”
“But surely it is in your interest to see that they are sound in body and mind, so that they give the very best displays in the arena. If the men are sullen and dispirited because of what they see as maltreatment, what motivation do they have to do their best in front of the populace?”
Lentullus looked over at Cassius in exasperation. My friend simply shrugged and gave him a little smile, as if to say, ‘He’s young, and does not understand.’
“Their motivation, young man,” Lentullus said through gritted teeth, “is that they wish to remain alive.”
“I understand that, but how often does the crowd get to see a display like the one Spartacus and Callistus gave the other day? You could charge twice the entrance fee, if you could guarantee a fight like that each time. Think of it, Lentullus. A group of excellent gladiators—impeccably trained warriors, content and rested at the end of each day, instead of the sullen, defiant men we see pushed out into the arena, forced to fight, and often unwilling to do so.”
“Lucius…” Cassius laughed. “You should turn to oratory. Daft as your ideas may be, the crowd would love your intensity.”
Lentullus was regarding me through his piggy eyes with an expression I did not care for. Something was going on in his mind, I could tell.
“So, Lucius,” he said through pursed lips. “Do you think you could use your silken words on Callistus?”
I gaped at him. “Excuse me?”
“The barbarian thinks highly of you, else he would not have saluted you in the arena. If I arranged a meeting with him, perhaps he would listen to you, then persuade Spartacus to stop all this foolishness.”
My surprise turned to laughter as I digested what he had just said. “You flatter me, sir, if you think for one minute Callistus would listen to the likes of me. What am I to him? Some effete weakling he could crush like a ripe fig.”
“I don’t think so…” Lentullus’ smile was no less than smug. “His actions in the arena the other day say otherwise.”
My head spun at the mere thought of myself face to face with the man of whom I thought constantly, day after day. Part of me wanted to leap at the chance Lentullus was offering me. Yet, the greater part feared the Gaul might sneer and reject me for even attempting a liaison between him and the ludo owner.
“At least give it some thought,” Lentullus continued. “You would not be in any danger. I will have guards accompany you to his cell, and, of course, he’ll be chained.”
No, I could not bear to see him under those circumstances—debased and held captive while some well-meaning, but—in his eyes—just one more patrician fop, tries to reason with him.
I shook my head. “That would never work, Lentullus. If I agree to this, I should see him alone. Nor should he be fettered like some animal. What meaning would my prattling words have if he is forced to listen to them surrounded by guards, and chained to a post?”
“Lucius…” Cassius stared at me in amazement. “You cannot be left alone with this barbarian. There’s no telling what he might do to—”
“Wait,” Lentullus interrupted. “I could position some guards outside. At the first sign of trouble they would be there to protect you.”
“That would be acceptable…” I still could not quite believe I was actually agreeing to this. “Allow him to bathe and give him a good meal, so he feels he is being shown respect.”
“In the name of all the gods!” Lentullus stared at me with disbelief. “He is a slave!”
“Those are my terms.”
Lentullus sat in silence, lips pursed for a long moment. “Very well,” he said finally. “I will have litter bearers at your school tomorrow at ten. I will conduct you to him, personally.”
That night, try as I might, I could not sleep. My mind was charged with thoughts of what the morrow might bring. It was still amazing to me that Lentullus had ever considered using m
e as an intermediary between himself and the gladiators. Of course, what was uppermost in my mind was the fact that I would at last be in the company of the man for whom my admiration knew no bounds.
What would he think of me? I wondered. Would the man who jumped up and down in the crowd, yelling his name, look just as comical when standing before him alone? Would he salute me, or laugh at me, and tell me to be on my way? Would he simply turn his back on me, and refuse to listen? Thinking of all of these possibilities kept me awake until dawn, when just before cockcrow, I finally slipped into the arms of Morpheus.
In the few minutes before I awoke after my too-short rest, I dreamed, and in my dream, Callistus and I stood face to face in a world far from here. Nothing that surrounded us looked familiar to me. A gentle breeze blew around us, caressing our skin, lifting the golden hair that hung about his shoulders. He smiled and reached out his hand to me, and I so willingly grasped it, letting myself be pulled into his embrace. His body was warm and hard, his skin smooth as silk, his lips soft and moist. I clung to him, pushing my eager body even deeper into his arms.
As if by magic our clothing dropped from us and we stood, bare flesh to bare flesh, our hard arousals pressed together. I knelt before him and gripped his magnificent cock at the base. So hard and proud was he, the foreskin had slipped back revealing the broad head glistening with his male essence that leaked from the slit…
“Callistus,” I murmured as I awoke. Eyes wide, I stared up at the ceiling of my room, my mind filled with regret that I had awakened and lost him. For it seemed that only in my dreams would he hold me in such a manner. Only in my fanciful yearnings would I ever feel his lips on mine, or the strength of his arms around me.
Grumbling about the unfairness of the gods who ruled the earth and men’s desires, it was left to me to bring about my own release. Then I rose from my bed, bathed, and dressed for the day ahead. My mother had the servants prepare me a fine morning meal, but I had no appetite. My thoughts raced ahead to the coming event of the day, when Lentullus would take me to my meeting with Callistus. My hand trembled as I raised a cup of watered wine to my lips.
