Date: Sat, 13 May 2000 07:17:45 EDT
From: CeTe <CeTe@gmx.li>
Subject: CeTe's Zoostories XII - The Fighters

CeTe's Zoostories XII
The Fighters

Copyright notice: These stories are copyrighted by CeTe and may not be
posted elsewhere without my express permission. Send your comments,
compliments and constructive criticisms to CeTe@gmx.li

Quintus and Lucius fight for love and justice in the Roman Empire.

Destiny

Quintus implored, "O Jupiter, take this sacrifice and hear my prayer. Save
the lion's life."

The beatified put down the sacrificed dove before the marble statue of his
prime god. He bowed reverently and stepped back thru the gate out of the
holy Jupiter temple. Piously, the decurion descended the stairs from the
sacred Capitolium down to the splendid Roman Forum where he turned left to
the Curia, the senate building his fellow-soldiers were posting in front
of.

"You're late, Germanicus," his centurion Rufus rebuked. "Attention, he's
coming."

His divine Caesar appeared. Passing the first step, the emperor stumbled,
threatened to fall, but a quick-witted praetorian supported him.

Caesar inquired, "Who're you, decurion?"

"Quintus Germanicus."

"The Master of Rome thanks you," Severus complimented.

He felt honored. Back in his castellum, Quintus heard screams of people
being tortured from the dungeon. Whom he found firstly was a graceful,
chained woman whose upper part of her body was bare, her back was covered
with bleeding wales.

"Look that Christian cunt!," an officer scorned. "She refused to worship
Caesar so we're teaching her to do it, and if she keeps to her opinion,
she'll die."

With those words, he whipped her once more. She cried.

"Hold on!," Quintus shouted. "Gimme a while to bring her to
reason. Scorching irons work wonder, you know?"

The other legionaries laughed and left the torture chamber.

Cautiously, he unlocked her chains, calming, "Don't be afraid, I won't harm
you. What's your name?"

"Diana," the woman stammered.

Quintus tried to convince, "Diana, all you've to do is to worship the
emperor."

"Never," she rejected.

"Hey, guys," he called, "I did it."

One of them regretted, "What a pity that the lady'll go yet."

Following:

"Why?," she asked.

"Compassion," he answered.

"Where do you live?"

"Nowhere," Diana admitted and walked away.

At night, Quintus dreamed of mating with a goat, thrusting his penis into
her vagina.

Unexpectedly, Diana emerged next to them, told him, "You wonder what I'm
doing in your mind. It's your destiny to meet me again."

The War of Religion

At Quintus's twentieth birthday, on August 1st, 197, the lucky centurion
and his fellow-soldiers celebrated in a tavern on the Esquilinus, one of
Rome's seven hills. Late after midnight, the group was going back to its
castellum, as they came across a veiled figure.

Quintus apologized, "Sorry, ma'am, I... Diana?"

"Quintus? Is it really you? I'm speechless."

"Likewise," he confessed. "How's you been since our first contact?"

"I've missed you," she told.

"Lemme consider! My duty begins at the sixth hour. See you there, guys."

"Good night, centurion," they replied and went their way.

"Centurion?"

"Yes," Quintus clarified, "my prefect promoted me."

Diana currently lived in a dilapidated cabin outside the capital.

The Greek woman welcomed her guest, "I hope my modest home pleases you."

"Sure," he stressed. "Diana, I love you."

"I love you too, Quintus."

In utmost desire, the couple started kissing, stroking and copulating with
each other.

After a wonderful climax, he noted, "Everything's devastated here."

"You ruthless legionaries're discrimating me," she cursed, "cos I don't
worship your goddam emperor."

"Don't blaspheme against our adorable ruler!," Quintus warned.

Diana accused, "Why do you deify him?"

"He's a god."

"No, he's not," she contradicted. "I know God."

Quintus vindicated, "You mean your god, don't you? Gimme a proof of his
existence!"

"You'll demonstrate Severus's divinity before!," she conditioned. "None of
us's able to prove our beliefs."

"Then let's leave off the war of religion! I understand your people better
than you think. Insomuch as I experienced, when I was staying in Syria, you
Jews..."

"...We're not Jews, we're Christians," Diana corrected.

The Roman indicated, "But you believe in the same god."

"Quintus," the Greek illustrated, "our Lord's Jesus Christ whereas the Jews
don't recognize him, they killed him anyway."

"And I guessed we crucified him."

"According to their judgement, though, I've forgiven them," she reprieved.

He informed, "What does he have ours don't have?"

"God's mercy."

Quintus kept doubting. Would Diana ever convince him?

The Martyr

"Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom
come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our
daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead
us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen."

The preacher closed the Holy Bible as the metal clank of running
legionaries reverberated thru the high galleries of the sacred Callistus
catacombs at the long Via Appia five miles southeastwards from Rome.

Centurion Rufus exclaimed, "In the name of Caesar, you're arrested."

Quintus, Diana and one hundred and nine other parishioners were looked up
into the Coliseum. The judge sentenced them to death for disobedience,
blasphemy and insurrection.

On October 23rd, 197, the doomed Christians entered the arena.

Ninety thousand spectators were jubilating, and Severus suggested,
"Rationus, you were a respected praetorian so I'll offer you a last chance
to live on: Give up your misbelief and worship your divine emperor here and
now!

"Kill my body, my soul'll survive."

"As you wish," the ruler jeered. "The games may begin!"

Fanfares called, drums thundered, a gate opened, and a lion came thru. The
condemned persons trembled, but Quintus recognized him, walked to him,
stroked his mane. Everyone grew silent.

Holding his flanks, the beatified positioned behind him, raised his tunica
and inserted his phallus into the predator's anus. He orgasmed, moaning
loudly. Although it was a historic occurance, nobody would ever write it
down.

Caesar flared up, "I won't tolerate this offense. Stop them!"

An arrow hit his head. Quintus kept calm, not showing his grief over the
merciful animal.

"And now," Severus continued, "you'll bear the anguish of your Lord."

The death screams of the innocent men being crucified filled the eternal
monument. He felt the nails piercing his flesh, his bones.

"Jesus," Quintus cried, "redeem me!"

The martyr died.

>From Heaven to Hell

Lucius Verus Frumentarius was looking out from one of the castellum's
watchtowers close to Portus Salarius, as the legionary sighted five ships
sailing in. It was an imperial, mercantile flotilla to load wheat and salt
for Rome. The escort brought him his transfer command.

He grieved over leaving his home and feared of the unknown. Lucius had
never gone away from Frumentarium, Wheat Island. There he was born, there
he had grown up, there he had been recruted, there he had spent all his
life. His father Herus was a decurated veteran who had served as a loyal
centurion, had married to Cara and had taken charge of his defunct father's
frugal farm in the paradisiac island's fruitful north. Though, complaining
did not help, orders were orders.

The twenty-five-year-old Hispanic made his farewells to Cornu, their
faithful bull he loved more than anyone else. Where would they transfer
him? >From the heaven of Frumentarium, he would go to the hell of Germania.

Err Is Human

Two months later, Lucius arrived at Germania. When the galley was putting
into the river port of Castra Vetera, the loyal legionary looked at the
solid castellum; his curious eyes wandered over the broad Rhine to the
thickly wooded bank.

His respectable father had often told him about the victorious campaign by
side of Gaius Iulius Caesar against the barbarians: the Gauls had been
subjected whereas the Germanics kept free. They were devils from hell.

Furthermore, the sage procurator and significant historian Tacitus would
write one hundred and ten years afterwards, "The land is either ghastly by
its woods or grisly by its swamps even though it shows considerable
differences: humid towards Gallia, windy in the direction of Noricum and
Pannonia. (...) There they all have the same physical characteristics:
defiantly looking, blue eyes, reddish-blond hair and big bodies which are
only fit for a short onslought; they do not show equal patience in work and
effort, they can bear thirst and heat least of all, though, they are used
to standing cold and hunger by climate and ground conditions."

The Rhine and the Danube formed the northern frontier of the Roman Empire,
but the Romans intended to expand it into the Elbe cos they believed Rome
had to rule the world, and it was strategically more advantageous to
shorten its border anyway. Between those three rivers lay Germania. In 12
before Chist, Caesar Ausgust's stepson Drusus gathered an army of five
legions to subjugate the Germanic tribes.

On a bright spring morning, four weeks after his arrival, the seventeenth
legion united into the conquest army, set out from Castra Vetera and
crossed the Rhine. Lucius was one of the twenty-five thousand legionaries
marching eastwards.

The second evening in the enemy country, they had gone fifteen miles. While
the night camp was being pitched, his centurion detached his decury to hunt
ten heads of game at least.

Once traced a party of nineteen wild boars, his decurion commanded,
"Extend!"

So did Lucius. He hid and stalked to a young boar which enticed him
unannouncedly. Not to be caught, the zoophile legionary lured him into the
thicket and took him from behind. His horny hands stroked the grunting
animal's hard bristles, his dirty knees squeezed his colossal testicles,
his sensitive phallus sank into his strong mate's slithery anus. Suddenly,
he felt a rising pressure on his raw glans as a loud fart escaped from the
savage creature's large rectum. Ultimately, Lucius moaned in his first
climax for a long time.

Joyously, he stood up, turned around and froze. The five-foot-tall
legionary was in front of a six-foot Germanic. His last hour had come
apparently.

"Well done," the huge Frisian lauded in Latin, but the fearful Hispanic
stayed speechless in his unexpressable astonishment.

"I'm Ingolf."

"Verus?" Lucius's decurion shouted across the inaccessable forest.

The confused legionary ran to him.

"Where's your bag?"

"Fled," he swindled.

"You'll bear the consequences."

Lucius was ready to endure his just punishment for letting live the
innocent boar. His subjective prejudices had broken, and he had learned err
is human.

The End Justifies the Means

Lucius grinned cos his comrades were digging trenches, throwing up rampants
and erecting palisades while he guarded the completed east
gate. Unexpectedly, the lucky legionary espied a cart pulled by two
sparkling white horses nearing the night encampment. Four Germanics were
sitting on the fully loaded vehicle, and Lucius recognized one of them.

"Ave, Ingolfus, where are you going?"

"Me and my family would like to join your train," his Frisian friend
replied sprightly. "Are we allowed to enter?"

Without a word, the Roman on the watchtower glanced at his decurion who
nodded affirmatively. They unlocked the gate, the Germanic traiders drove
thru. Immediately after his six-hour-shift, Lucius called on Ingolfus.

He stuttered arousedly, "I hoped to meet you again, man. The gods have
heard my prayers. You've opened my eyes."

"Have I?" the peaceful Germanic asked ignorantly. "In what way?"

"To be frank, I'd always been of the opinion your people were barbarian
before encountering you."

"May I mention that you're different from other Romans? You don't prejudge
us as bellicose, otherwise, you love animals more than others," Ingolfus
expounded complimentingly.

And they continued conversating for three hours till he revealed amazingly,
"Lucius, as it's your first time here, I wanna introduce you somone you'll
like certainly."

Most curiously, the excited Hispanic obtained the permission to leave the
camp.

We'll depart at the sixth hour," Aius exhorted duly. "Be careful!"

Next both rode their stately stallions away.

Deep within the original woods, Ingolfus shouted, "Ho, there we are."

A magnificent aurochs was grazing undisturbedly close to them.

"Shall I tie him?"

"No wise, I trust him," his Roman companion answered negatively.

He confidently nestled up to the enormous creature's black fur, squatted
down cautiously, started pulling his dangling purse and rubbing against his
muscular sheath. The stimulated giant mooed and mounted the blissful
legionary. Amid his enviable orgasm, he noticed a hidden horde of hostile
Germanics. At once, Lucius sprang onto Ingolfus's heavenly horse, hastened
back speedily to give the alarm.

"Very attentive that you've alerted us timely. I guess you'd be a good
messenger," his decurion commented repectfully.

The following day, the imperial forces united into the Rhine Fleet and
began combatting the Frisian enemy but the brave Germanics fought in wild
disorder whereas the Romans maintained their characteristic
discipline. They won. After the bloody battle, the merciless victors
ravaged the regrettable loser's defenseless settlements.

"How will you vindicate our godless genocide?" Lucius inquired
reproachfully, and Aius responsed unscrupulously, "The end justifies the
means."

Apathy and Agony

Ingolfus indignantly cursed Lucius's atrocity, "You're gonna exterminate my
people."

"Believe it or not, I condemn our radical advance as much as you but orders
are orders," the accused Hispanic confessed guiltily.

"Orders are orders," the wrathful Frisian derisively emphasized. "Where you
ordered to attack my village? Where you ordered to massacre women and
children? Were you ordered to do the wretched bloodbath?"

"Ingolfus..."

"Don't call me Ingolfus! My name's Ingolf; you won't romanize it. How lying
you are! You Romans pretend to civilize us Germanics but in actuality, you
subdue other peoples to suppress them, to exploit and to liquidate them. I
swear by Thor to avenge my dead brothers, and you'll regret having killed
them," he threatened openly, stamping out of the big tent.

Aius came in arousedly, "Verus, your friend disapproves of our triumphal
victory, doesn't he?"

"Unluckily, we're not friends any more, Decurion," Lucius ruefully related.

"That's not my cup, however, I congratulate you to be messenger. Ferus, my
horse, seems sick. I guess I'll get a new one."

The animal-loving legionary saw at first sight what was wrong with the
black stallion.

He suggested helpfully, "Leave him here tonight. I'll heal him till
tomorrow morning."

"Agreed," the thankful decurion consented blithely and strode away.

Lucius and Ferus were alone. He looked so lovely that the dazzled man did
not know where he should begin. Enchantedly, he peered at his proud head,
his strong body, his veiled sheath and made a clear decision. The
proficient zoophile tenderly petted the winsome horse's bristly mane,
stroked his velvety fur, oiled his right arm, stepped to his graceful
rear. Ferus reacted apathetically. His smooth asscheeks were shimmering
dimly by the unsteady light of the flickering oil lamp as Lucius lifted his
bushy tail to enjoy the alluring sight of his black anus. The muscular hole
pulsated regularly, and the captivated human slowly commenced turning his
greasy forefinger around it. When Ferus's sweet arsehole started opening
relaxedly, Lucius began winding his fond finger in. Little by little, his
whole hand slid inside his warm rectum. The fortunate stallion's powerful
sphincter was contracting calmly around his flexed arm diving deeper into
his sensitive gut. Lucius touched his soft, intestinal wall affectionately;
Ferus awoke from his apathy.

He set to move his stretched arm back and forth, pressing his hard prostata
forcefully. The penetrated horse neighed wildly, though, the unstoppable
Roman kept fisting him like in trance cos he desired to satisfy him
absolutely. Abruptly, Ferus spasmed. Lucius relievedly heard a heavy splash
and glanced at the growing puddle of white, fragrant semen.

"Marvelous, Ferus's healthy again. What have you done with him?" Aius
amazedly asked at sunrise.

Lucius explainded laughingly, "That's my little secret although I'll
recommend you a good mare from to time works wonders."

At the recovering end and of the contested day, a husky legionary politely
requested, "Verus, I'm Caelius from the eighteenth legion. Your decurion
Aius's told me you treated his apathetic stallion. Look at Firmus."

The grey, brawny horse stared at Lucius eagerly; his hefty, black-pink
penis was drooping feebly.

"Well, Caelius, I'll care his intimate problem," he seriously asserted,
cencealing his immense anticipation.

"Next time, though, you ought to consult your competent veterinary."

As soon as his stalwart comrade had gone, Lucius took a full bucket of
clear water, a soft cloth, and began washing Firmus's lame cock. While
massaging mightfully, vital blood streamed into his erectile tissue, and
his flabby prick swelled gradually. After his ardent climax, the horny man
knealt down under the capital stallion's hirsute belly, started sucking his
tasty glans. A joyful while later, thick sperm gushed into his thirsty
mouth.

Aius entered the spacious tent one more time, "Ave, Verus, is that milk on
your left cheek?"

"I needn't to drink wine to work well," Lucius countered cunningly.

"Tomorrow you'll deliver the message of victory to Rome."

He did as he was bidden. Lucius rode via Castra Vetera and Municipium
Reginensis into the Alps where the astonished legionary made the fatal
mistake to spend a starlit night under the open sky. Wenching his skilled
hand in Albus's erotic ass, someone assaulted and abducted him.

When he regained consciousness, he was blindfolded; his arms and legs were
bound tightly.

"Now we'll do what you've done with the poor nag."

Therewith, a bony fist rudely rammed into his cramped butthole. The
agonized Hispanic cried out for all his gods who sent him a Roman patrol
which released him.

Lucius's Recovery

Sharp fingers intruded into his tight arsehole, stretched it wider than
ever before. He screamed dreadfully, his agonized body futilely tried to
shake off the cutting fetters, the sadistic hand made a hard fist and
invaded further into his violated ass. His bleeding gut and his distended
sphincter were aching hellishly, taking his tormented consciousness.

Lucius started up from his scary nightmare. Bathed in cold sweat, the
traumatized legionary looked around, inquired confusedly, "Where am I?"

"You're in the seignorial villa of the Raetian procurator Cornelius Iulius
Prudentius," a tall slave precisely expounded and guided him to his noble
master subserviently.

Prudentius elevatedly commnaded, "That's all, Famulus, let us alone!"

The obedient servant withdrew tractably while Lucius gratefully went on his
knees, "My Lord, I praise you for saving my meaningless life."

"Stand up and listen!" the just procurator directed domineeringly. "Now
tell me about the Germanic expedition. You can't imagine how dull it's been
since we subjected this province."

"But I've to inform our sublime emperor," the dependable messenger
dutifully objected.

"Not yet. You owe me your grafic report cos if my vigilant legionaries
hadn't liberated you, you'd have died. Which ordinary mortal does ever get
the unique opportunity to be the welcomed guest of Gaius Iulius Caesar's
nephew?"

Quite a long time afterwards, Lucius proceeded to Albis to continue his
hazardous way. To his great surprise, there was a white mare next to him in
the manorial stable. Her name was Nubes, written on her leather and silver
harness. The delighted Hispanic spontaneously put off his imminent
departure in favor of her. He bent down to her tasteful clit quickly and
began sucking it. Gazing grippedly at her sweet anus, the tender legionary
affectionately licked her pulsating labia up and down when she shivered in
orgasmic waves, urinating directly into his open mouth. Before he spat it
out, Lucius cheerfully realized Nubes had shown him her true love. He rode
away happily.

Living in the World's Center

Forty days after his departure, he arrived at Rome. On account of his
urgent message, his Caesar received him personally. Striding thru the
imperial palace's marble columned halls, its magnificence and splendor
dazzled the simple legionary. At the end of his long way, Lucius
genuflected before a divine, tall, strong, blond, graceful man.

Augustus spoke, "Rise and report me on my campaign in Germania."

"The gods bless you, Your Excellency," the messenger praised and set forth,
"In behalf of your procurator Drusus, I'll notify you that your legions
have defeated the barbarians and are due to cross the river Weser."

"Ergo my military advisor Agrippa will command you now."

"Verus, you've made me curious about Germania. I wanna hear more in my
villa," the brainy, brawny, bearded proconsul invited.

Although the astounded legionary doubted whether he deserved such an
honorable offer, Lucius did not contradict but accompanied his noble
host. Once passed his watchful guardians around Agrippa's wide estate, they
entered his wealthy domicile. Suddenly, a fristful creature stepped out of
the living room. He froze.

"Don't wrooy," the landlord laughed, "this's my leopard Praedino."

Lucius, however, got so shocked that he did not catch Agrippa's
utterance. Awestruck, the Hispanic eyed it up and down to find out its
gender, and as the densely spotted predator turned around, he saw two furry
curves and a hairless wrinkle below its twitching tail. It was a male.

The proconsul already exclaimed, "Pulchra, I'm home."

His beautiful wife appeared in the atrium.

"We've a guest! What's your name?"

"I'm Verus, my Lady," Lucius presented himself.

They lay down in the dining room, though, their eloquent visitor did not
let Praedino out of his sight. Thenceforward, he fixed his eyes on the
frisky leopard's flabby purse swinging back and forth. Relating them his
belligerent experiences, the stirred legionary worked out how he would make
love to him.

Late at night, Lucius withdrew into the guest room and waited till the
Agrippas had gone to bed. Then he slunk across the pitch darkness,
following the animal scent. Finally, the noiseless messenger stumbled on
Praedino who woke up at once. He could see nothing thus Lucius completely
depended on his skillful hands.

Fondling his tender head, he stroked along his fleecy flank and touched his
hairy purse. The tame beast of prey was holding still while the strained
man handled his hard testicled affectionately. Feeling them in his warm
palm, an overwhelming flood of erotic sensations splashed thru his shaking
body, rousing him to insert his desirous phallus into Praedino's strong
asshole. Lucius had actually expected to come into conduct with more fur
but there was only soft flesh that began surrounding his smooth glans, his
stiff shaft as well as his swollen base. It took just a few thrusts, and he
ejaculated into the big cat's tensed rectum.

Lucius collapsed exhaustedly. The content legionary abruptly heard the
growling leopard over him and felt his deadly teeth on his defenseless
neck. Was Praedino going to kill him?

The horny preyer mounted his human mate. When his spiny penis invaded into
the formerly raped guy's trained arsehole, it luckily was not sore any
more. His husky balls slapped on the moaning man's which made his orgasm a
lot more intense.

Thankfully, the fortunate legionary stood up, kissed Praedino, returned to
his chamber. He had risked his life and gained his love.

Frumentarium

The morning after his excellent intercourse, Agrippa's old servant woke
him, "Get up, Sir, my master wanna see you."

Sleepily, Lucius, walked with him to the severe proconsul.

"Verus, I watched you last night," Agrippa set forth.

"My Lord..."

"Don't talk!" the imperial adviser forbade. "I appreciate you, and I'll
send you home to offer you a last chance to come to your senses."

Praedino nestled against his bare legs, though, he left the wealthy house
at once. Lucius took the next galley from Rome's harbor Ostia to the
Balearic Islands.

For days went by till the overloaded ship arrived at Frumentarium which
would be called Formentera in the far future. In difference to the
succeeding times, the small island counted to the most fertile place of the
Roman Empire. Frumentarium's yield was precious that there was a century of
one hundred men protecting six hundred civilian habitants. Its fortunate
population was therefore composed of legionaries, winegrowers, salt
producers and farmers like Herus.

Lucius reported for duty to his centurion Franciscus who permitted him to
visit his loving family. Greeting his lucky parents the urbane messenger
was already looking forward to Cornu. Their good ox got mad as his missed
friend came caressing him. The excited legionary's tender hands began
masturbating him and made Cornu mounting the kneeling guy. He moaned,
feeling the strong bull's long cock diving thru his relaxed gut. At the
commencement of a stormy orgasm, Cornu's cool cum started filling his empty
stomach. Lucius had back his fabulous buddy.

The Gift of the Gods

"Centurion," the lean legionary saluted, "I've this message for you."

Frumentarium's forty-six-year-old commander opened the letter and read,

"Centurion L. Verus Frumentarius,

I will transfer you to Anthens in recognition of your long services to the
wealth of the Frumentarium colony.

Procurator T. Animosus Ibericus."

Twenty-one years had passed by since his return home. By loyalty,
commitment and discipline, he had become which he was.

Then, in January, 9 after Christ, they recalled him to Rome's origin,
Greece, the land of the gods as well as the spring of the Hellenistic
culture. The legend said the Greek survirvors of Troja moved to Italy,
their descendants formed Rome, and when the Romans conquered the country
seven centuries later, they assimilated countless cultural elements.

The first place in Athens Lucius went to was the holy temple of Zeus whom
his people called Jupiter. Devoutly, he prayed for his deceased father and
his beloved mother. Outside the sacred monument, an angel-white terrier
crossed his predestinated way. The awestruck centurion halted, gazing at
the heaven-sent beauty who stopped too and looked back in his gaping
eyes. That must have been a divine sign, a gift of the gods. It was not his
immaculate body nor his magnificent genitals but it was his trusty face
which enchanted him. Fast, Lucius ran after the god-sent dog.

They kept racing for three miles. Unannouncedly, the heavenly creature
stood still, and his insistent persuer caught him up. The sweet terrier was
panting out of breath, his clean tongue hanging out of his open
muzzle. Albeit Lucius's strong heart was beating as hard as the delightful
dog's, his rising libido drove him on. He bent down his sweaty head to the
animal of his desire as the tender terrier's cold tongue licked over his
hot face.

That was too much for him. Lucius stuck his touchy tongue into his
captivating partner's large snout, and so did the dazzling dog. Both
continued kissing for a timeless eternity. The centurion in love licked off
the eager canine's sharp teeth while his animal friend grazed his ticklish
palate, his dry throat and his other intimate tissues.

No wonder he suddenly felt his excited prick swelling, and he withdrew his
tireless tongue. The confused dog whined, though, the infatuated man had an
eager eye for something else anyhow. His greedy graze fell on the kind
animal's leather collar and his iron tag with the Greek label "Andreas."

Andreas was watching Lucius hopefully who stared at his huge, stretched,
blood-red dick with all its gleaming veinlets as well as its tremendous
knot before he took a profound look at his pale, pink purse with his two
dangling, cherry-sized balls. Affectionately, he gripped them and felt such
a godlike softness that he lost his last inhibitions. The expectant dog
anticipated what was going to happen next cos he lifted his graceful tail
upright, relaxing completely and giving his joyous admirer a deep view into
his reddish ass.

Lucius seized the seductive terrier's hefty thighs and inserted his erect
cock slowly into Andreas's enticing channal. The content dog's tight
sphincter pushed back his thin foreskin, exposing his sensitive glans
aroused to the limit by his brawny gut. The groaning man, however, was
concentrating on his touchiest frenulum and got more lustful with each
sensual thrust. Eventually, his complete body cramped in orgasmic waves,
shooting his creamy cum into yelping Andreas.

Coming down from the seventh heaven to cruel Earth, Andreas went
away. Lucius did not mourn for his disappeared lover but praised Jupiter
for his unforgettable pleasure.

Nonetheless, fate forbade him to stay in Athens cos he got his travel
orders to proceed to Germania.

The Varian Battle I

"Stop!" the watchman yelled. "Where're you going to?"

"Make way! I'm Centurion Lucius Verus Frumentarius of the second century in
the seventeeth legion's third cohort. Here's my movement order," the rider
shouted back.

The legionary checked the leaf of parchment, nodded, let him pass. Lucius
gallopped to the command house amid the castellum.

As he strode into, another centurion called, "Verus, you're back by all
gods!"

"Ave, Aius," the Hispanic replied and reported, "Legate Virtuosus, the
second century's ready to move."

The staff worked out the march route.

On March 6th, 9, the seventeeth, the eighteenth and the nineteenth legion
departed from Castra Vetera to their summer camp at the Weser. The
commander of the elite army was the procurator of the province Germania
Publius Quinctilius Varus.

All Germania was occupied, every tribe between the Rhine and the Elbe was
subjected. Many forces were needed, though, to romanize the Germanics
definitely. The three legions stayed there till fall; they administered the
province, collected taxes, sat in judgement.

One day in June, Lucius led the tax collectors to a close settlement. The
villagers paid without resistance, however, there was someone over. The guy
stepped into his house and met him.

"Ingolfus?"

"Yes, it's me," he strengthened. "Before twenty-one years, I swore to
retailiate that you massacred my people. The time of revenge's come;
Arminius's united us against you; we'll set a trap for you on your way
back. I warn you cos you've been my friend. Flee or die!"

Lucius got horrified. Just Arminius, the ally, was going to betray them?
Unbelievable. Ingolfuf, on the other hand, had been a friend who was it
worth trusting. Weighing up his options, it was out of the question that he
would desert but how could he avert the disaster? All he was able to do was
convince the warlord.

"That's so incredible," Varus ridiculed, having heard Lucius's
message. "Tell me, Arminius, will you lure us into a trap?"

"Never, My Lord." the Germanic stressed.

"Procurator, may I suggest...?"

"Silence, Centurion!" he forbade. "Arminius's been serving Rome for more
than ten years; he's fought in Armenia, in Illyricum, and he's a knight. Go
and be thankful that I'll not have you punished for defaming my friend!"

The centurion feared they would repent his carelessness.

The Varian Battle II

"Forward march!" Lucius commanded, and his elitist century commenced
striding thru their cleaned camp's western gate.

The sunny summer had passed without any extraordinary incident. He had
sheerly forgotten Ingolfus's threatening warning. At the beginning of
September, as the good weather was getting worse, the Roman army started
its perilous return to safe Castra Vetera beyond the provincial border.

A manifold trek of fifteen thousand heavily laden legionaries plus ten
thousand related civilians was wandering on the surfaced track along the
small river Lippe which flowed into the big Rhine.

The tenth day after their scheduled departure, the Cheruscan scent scout
leader Arminius notified the careless procurator Varus of a Germanic
insurrection, urging him to send direct support. The confident warlord
instructed to leave the planned route and to turn northwards to the
reported rising.

Receiving the irregular order, the apprehensive centurion exclaimed,
"That's the announced trap! We must go back."

"Verus, give it up!" Aius advised, "Varus solely believes in Arminius."

"His thoughtless trust will be our inevitable decline," he foresaw.

Thenceforth they struggled thru thick woods; icy cold, stormy wind and
lashing rain were inhibitting them anyhow. In the middle of the precarious
position, uncountable, wild hostiles assaulted the unprepared Romans. As
they used to combat on wide battlefields instead of narrow forest paths,
the seasoned legionaries were incapable of drawing up in their proven
array, and before they formed a solid line of defense, eight complete
cohorts were fallen, and the underhand attackers had withdrawn.

The following day, the unafraid hostiles continued their crafty tactics,
killing further eight cohorts. Even though the Roman forces could have
retired, Varus directed them to move on.

At the end of the second fighting day, Lucius wondered, "What shall we do?"

The Varian Battle III

Trumpeting fanfares awoke him from his deep sleep. He had not dreamed; he
was in Germania, far away from the saving Rhine, encircled by vindicative
Germanics. Lucius had barely slept as the untiring enemies had been trying
to storm the fortified night camp.

The sorrowful centurion fell into the ordinary roll call. It got obvious
that the mere half of the veteran army had survived the preceding two days,
and the bulk of the accompanying civilians had died anyway.

He analyzed the Germanic strategy: As per the Roman marching formation, the
seventeenth and the eighteenth legion moved first while the civil retinue
and nineteenth legion followed them. Every hostile assault had been
directed against the decimated rearguard, the unarmed column and the middle
files whereas the complete vanguard had not been charged. It seemed as
though they were going to drive them into a laid trap.

Lucius reproved, "Why, by Mars, doesn't Varus command to turn back?"

"His traiterous friend's assured him we'll reach an open terrain very
soon," Aius blamed.

Fighting their arduous way thru the unknown wilderness, the disorientated
legionaries were wiped out by incessant descents. As they had entered a
protecting night encampment, the wounded procurator got aware of his fatal
naivety. Not to be caught by the merciless enemy, Varus stabbed himself to
death.

The fourth day, one thousand survivors came to a tight pass between two
insurmountably high hills. All was silent; there was no one in
sight. Hardly had they entered the deceptive passage, the lurking Germanics
started their final raid.

"For Rome!" the patriotic centurion shouted, launching into the bawling
hostiles.

Lucius killed man after man till he encountered a wrathful Frisian.

"Freedom!" Ingolfus yelled and beheaded him.

(c) CeTe