Date: Fri, 1 Apr 2016 23:16:08 -0400
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Among the Marble Temples

			AMONG OF THE MARBLE TEMPLES
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     [Note: This story involves a man/slave and an underaged boy having a
sexual encounter. As always, my stories are fantasies with no basis in
reality either intended or implied, I personally have a clearly defined
border between fantasy and reality in my own life and can enjoy these sort
of stories with no desire to go out and emulate them in my own life. But if
stories of this sort offend you, please, spare yourself and read no
further. I write a wide variety of stories (it's what lets me stay so
prolific) so check back next week for a story of mine that may not go too
far for you.]

     I walked quickly toward the inner sanctum of my Master's quarters. I
had been summoned, and my Master brooked no delays at such times. As I did
often at such times, I looked about these halls and thought how, not so
very long ago, I had planned to walk these very steps not as a slave, but
as a conqueror. How a few months can so change us!
     As the younger son of the chieftain of my tribe, I had dreamed of
leading an attack against the mighty empire of Rome. With their generals
squabbling over the throne, a well-timed assault may well have carried the
day. I had trained with the members of my father's home guard until my
skill with the sword and leather shield was unequaled and my leadership of
the warriors was unquestioned.
     When my uncle set up a raid across the border and asked me to go
along, I accepted quickly. I blithely let him send all my friends to
another group in another sector without question, and that was my downfall.
     On the edge of the Rhine, while I slept, I was overpowered and bound
and taken across the river not as in combat, but as a slave to be sold to
the Romans. I was taken in a cage along with the captives of an enemy tribe
and was beaten by them on several occasions before we arrived at Rome.
     Put on the auction block, I despaired of my very existence. I looked
nothing like the son of a noble chieftain and did not even attempt to claim
it for myself. But I spoke Latin well and swore to obey faithfully whoever
was kind enough to buy me and treat me decently, and Marcus Vitellius
harkened to my oath and bought me.
     And so I walked among marble temples and stone houses and I marveled
at the riches of this powerful empire. I lived in rooms that were clean and
the floors were of stone and not dirt. I ate foods varied and tasty, the
flesh of animals I had never seen before, from lands of whom I had never
heard before. All I had to do for my Master was continue to train as I had
before, with the weapons of the Roman Empire, and my skill with any sort of
blade was now unexcelled.
     I suspected my Master intended to put me in the arena as a gladiator
and had determined that if he did, I would make him the best gladiator I
could be. He met me from time to time, always treated me as an equal and a
fellow warrior and for my part, I grew to love the bonds that the Romans
had placed upon me. This life, even as a slave, was far better than even my
life as a chieftain's son, I could count upon a longer life in greater
luxury than even my father or my uncle.
     So was my frame of mind as I walked into my Master's chamber. He lay
upon his couch in trusting languor, for he knew my hand would never be
raised against him.
     "Aricus, dear Aricus." he said to me. "It is good to see you. You are
larger and stronger every time I gaze upon you."
     I smiled and gave obeisance. "I am pleased that you are pleased, my
Master. How may I serve you this night?" His gaze seemed to be one of
desire, and I had long decided that should he ever choose my body to grace
his bed, I would go and perform as well as I could. He was the very best of
Masters and I felt safe in his service.
     So his next words confused and dismayed me. "I have decided to sell
you."
     "Master?" I said, not in a question as much as a wail. "Have I
displeased you?"
     "You misunderstand me. Turn and look at your new master."
     I turned and I saw who he meant.
     Marcellus. His son, a boy not yet old enough to wear his manly
gown. His very smile was inappropriate, for a Roman man does not smile in
such a situation, but he was grinning at me in unfeigned delight. "Your
son, Master?" I said. "But a child may not own property."
     "True, and your new Master on the bill of sale is to be my younger
brother Aulus Vitellius, and you are to take Marcellus to him. But
Marcellus shall be yours to watch and guard over in the days and years to
come." Marcus rose from his couch and his grip on my shoulder was man to
another man. "You know the danger my family faces."
     "Yes, Master, I have heard." I said. This was true, the Vitellian
family was prominent in the affairs of state, and with the current Emperor
in poor health and without a named successor, the Empire was ripe for civil
war. The Vitellians were supporting the current Governor of Syria, but
there were two other contenders for the title, both of whom were closer to
Rome. As a Senator, Marcus could not leave Rome without permission he
wasn't going to get, but the younger brother could and did stand by the
Governor's side.
     "Then take my son to him. Be his slave in name while you guard my son
until his manhood, until the civil war that is coming is over and done and
he can stand once again in Rome in safety." Marcus' hands went on both my
shoulders. "I can trust nobody in Rome with my son, but you, Aricus. If you
love me, guard my son."
     I took the hand from my right shoulder and I kissed the palm in the
gesture of loyalty of my tribe. "I shall guard him with my very life,
Master."
     "I know you shall." Marcus said. "You shall have my best horse and a
bag of gold. You must ride tonight, for the Emperor's health is failing
fast."
     "I shall." I said and turned to Marcellus. "I shall be in the stables
when you are ready to leave." For I knew that father and son must say their
farewells without even a slave to witness them.
     When Marcellus joined me some time later, his face was unstained and
calm. His father must have enjoined him to be stoic. I had saddled the
horse and placed him the saddle, then mounted behind him. My Master had had
me train on how to ride a horse fast and well, and this I realized now was
why he had trained me thus all this time. And among the marble temples, I
and my young Master rode.
     The night of Rome is not silent, the wagons that supply the markets
and the houses, the wagons of people moving from one place to another, they
all must travel at night. We rode as surreptitiously as possible, both of
us cloaked and hooded, but the horse we rode could not be disguised. I
worried about it greatly as we rode. But in time, we had left the city
behind and the roads, though traveled by wagons, could be ridden past as
quickly as possible and those approaching were less of a problem.
     At Herculaneum as the sun was going down again, our horse was more
than weary, on its last legs. I unsaddled it, slapped its haunch to tell it
to go home by itself if it could, and used the gold to buy us another
horse. I brought it out and found Marcellus sitting on a bench, lying back,
sound asleep with his head against the wall. Poor child. I picked him up in
one arm and carried him, leading the horse, and found us an inn. We slept
there, both of us, in the same bed, for I registered us as father and son,
my hood hiding my slave's earring.
     The next morning, we took breakfast and with it, the gossip about the
table. We had been away from all news for two nights and a day, and there
had been a lot of news in that time.
     The Emperor had passed away, and with his death, Rome had erupted in
flames. Over fifty Senators had been slaughtered by the soi-disant
replacement Emperor, a cruel man named Proculus, and among them had been
Marcus Vitellius.
     I felt Marcellus gasp, a silent, buried sound, and I placed a hand on
his arm to warn him not to react. "And what of their families?" I asked.
     "They are to be put to death by decree, the poor things." said the
talker, a merchant with ties to Rome. "All boys are to be forced to take
their manly gowns, and after their ceremony, they will be killed. The
girls, poor things, are to be sold as slaves, to foreign traders in Rome."
He leaned in. "I hear the Senator Marcus Vitellius has sent his son away to
his brother in Syria. Poor man didn't hear that his brother is already
dead. Fell from a horse, the poor man, some weeks ago, at a local
festival."
     I rose from the table and drew Marcellus erect with my hand by sheer
force, the lad was stunned as well he should be. "We must be on our way." I
said to him in as casual a tone as I could manage. "The day is wasting and
the further we get from Rome, it sounds, the better for us."
     Numbness let Marcellus get away from the others without a sound.
     "You may ride behind me this day." I told him as we mounted. And in a
softer tone, "And if you need to cry, press your face into my back and
muffle the sounds. We must not draw attention to ourselves on this day of
all days."
     "I shall." his voice was small as the squeak of a mouse. "But where
shall we go?"
     "For now, we simply go away." I said. "I shall think further on our
final destination."
     Marcellus was quiet on our ride for most of that day, even when we
paused to eat. His little face showed the wracking sorrow he felt, so I
left him alone in his silence. It was as the sun reached again for the
western hills and the ocean beyond that he said, "Aricus?"
     "Yes, young Master?"
     "Tonight at the inn, will you call us father and son again?"
     "It is safer that way." I told him. "But I can be someone else if you
prefer."
     "No." he said. "I...I like it when you call me son."
     I smiled back at him over my shoulder. "Then you shall be my son while
we ride, to wherever we go."
     "Aricus?"
     "Yes, young Master?"
     "Can I still be your son when we get there? Your son for real?"
     I cast another look back, this time in consternation. "You would
become son of a slave?"
     "But if I'm your Master, I can free you."
     "Your uncle was to become my Master until you came of age. With your
family's death, my ownership reverts to the new Emperor, whoever he is. Not
that I plan to be caught if I can help it."
     "Can't we go back to your tribe across the Rhine?" he suggested.
     "I have been thinking of that." I said. "A lot depends on what has
happened in my tribe while I was gone. My uncle sold me into slavery, he
must have tried to overthrow my father soon after. If my father is dead,
perhaps my brother took charge. There is so much that could have happened."
     "But we can go and see, can't we?"
     "Yes." I agreed. "We can go and see."
     "And can I go as your son?"
     I sighed. "The adoption rituals are done only right after a child is
born. You are too old for that."
     "What is the ritual? Can't we do it anyway?"
     "You wouldn't like it."
     "What is it? What?"
     "When a boy child is born, the father claims the child by going to the
newborn babe, taking out his organ, and masturbating to climax. He catches
a bit of the sperm and wipes it across the child's lips, so that the child
will lick and clean his lips that way. The father then says, 'My seed is a
part of you and you are a part of me.' And so the child is claimed as his
son."
     "So why can't you and I do that?" he wanted to know. I realized he was
clinging to me as the sole remaining part of his family left to him.
     "Because a newborn child is very small." I temporized to him. A kind
lie to ease his pain. "It would only take a little bit to make him a part
of me. You are much bigger, it would take much more sperm for that. A whole
lot more. You'd have to drink it all every single day."
     Part of this was to make him give up the idea. Not that I objected to
him as my son, but again, I was his father's slave and would become the
Emperor's slave if I was caught. If he were my son, he would become a slave
of the Emperor, provided the Emperor didn't kill him anyway. Also, it was a
joke among my people about adopting someone by having them suck your
organ. I meant nothing more than that by telling him all that.
     And indeed he was silent while we rode and stopped at a small inn in a
village for the night. We ate a crude meal (for these were poor people) and
then bedded down on a crude mattress of cotton stuffed with straw, the
coarse material let the straw stick out here and there, making it not very
comfortable. I stripped down only to the cloth which I wore wrapped around
my loins, and got into bed. Marcellus had lingered, looking at me. I knew I
was a massive, handsome man and had only gotten stronger under his father's
patronage. My face was regular and masculine, my hair was a fair brown in
color, which was favored among the Romans to the darker browns and blacks
of their own peoples. "Put out the light and come to bed, young Master." I
told him. "We still must travel many weary days before we dare rest more
than a single night anywhere."
     Marcellus reached for the clasp of his tunic and undid the pin that
held it to his shoulder. That caused his tunic to unfasten entirely from
one shoulder, and the other alone could not hold, the entire thing fell to
his feet. He then reached for his own loin wrap and undid it and let it
fall as well.
     His entire body was now revealed to me. Thin, but his body was
otherwise clean and well-formed. His small arms and legs did not speak of
weakness, but of potential. He would one day become a large, strong man,
like his father, but now, that was all in the future. He stood only to the
bottom of my rib cage had I been standing but now he towered over me. His
cock was a small projection at the top of his legs, smaller than my
littlest finger. It was the same color as his body, not darker like mine
and nestled in a thatch of hair, he had no hair there and would not for
another half-dozen years.
     "Blow out the light and get into our bed, young Master." I told
him. "We must rest while we can."
     Leaving the light on, he got into bed, indeed, but instead of resting
his head on the small pillow beside mine, he crawled under the covers. His
hands were at my loinwrap before I realized what he was doing.
     "Young Master!" I gasped. "What are you planning?"
     "You said if I took your sperm, I could become your son." he reminded
me. "All of it, every day."
     "But...if you become my son, you would be a slave as well!"
     "Not if we go to your lands to live." he said. His hand now wrapped
around my cock and my penis betrayed me by stiffening immediately. "When I
am your son, we'll go there."
     His lips reached and took my prick inside his mouth. He sucked upon
it, one long stroke up and down. I could not help but moan at the pleasure
that gave me. Ever since I'd been sold into slavery, I had lived the life
of a sexual celibate. Now...now I had my cock being sucked on, by a young
boy, it was true, but the pleasure was undeniable and liberating. I
belonged to this child's family, he could do with me as he chose...even
suck on my cock if he wanted. It was no longer my decision, mine was only
to obey!
     So I didn't fight him the further, I gave myself to my pleasure as he
dove back onto me and suckled me as ardently as if my prong was the very
font of all life!
     I threw back the covers so that I could watch this young noble boy as
he worked his magic lips upon me. Below the muscled shelf of my chest and
the concavity of my stomach, there he was, small but energetic, silent but
blissful, moving his head up and down in a movement that wrung joy from my
body with every stroke.
     "Ahh, young Master, you please me so!" I moaned. "I cannot help
myself, I must expend my seed, and soon!"
     "Mm, mmph-mph!" Marcellus said and then he raised off me long enough
to say, "And when you do, will I become your son?"
     "I...." I could not bring myself to deny him again. "Yes, if you do,
you'll become my son. But that is a dangerous thing to be, don't you see?
Very dangerous!"
     "I don't care." Marcellus said. And he went back to working me again.
     I was rising rapidly to my climax. "I am near, so very near!" I
moaned. "You must brace yourself, young Master, for when it comes, it will
come very strongly! Oh, oh, oh, care, take care, it will be strong!
I...I...oh, I am done, I am done!" And I lapsed into groans as my body
exploded upwards into his young mouth.
     Marcellus was surprised, I think, at the force of my ejaculation even
though I had warned him, but he did not let go. He gulped at my flow
masterfully, holding on even as I blew more and more jets of my liquid joy
skywards, intercepted by his mouth, to be gulped downwards into his own
body, and he fed off of me as I finished until he was sucking actively at
my expended dong, my empty, empty prong, and I was gasping and heaving with
my desperate breaths.
     Marcellus crawled up my body to lie on top of my chest, his small
weight a mere nothing. "And now I am your son?" He asked me.
     "Yes." I sighed. "For what it is worth, you are now my son."
     "As long as I keep sucking it out, every night, yes?"
     "That's right." I could deny him nothing, and never could.
     "Then that is what I'll do. By the time we make it to your home land,
I'll have a whole lot of you inside me, won't I?"
     "You certainly shall." I sighed. I pulled the covers up over
us. Marcellus settled in on my chest, and I realized he wished to sleep
there this night. And why not? He was my son now.
     My own people don't accept back those who have been slaves. In my home
land I could only be a slave to my own people instead of the Romans. In
Rome, I was an escaped slave and subject to execution by torture if
captured. Marcellus was no better, he was to be executed immediately upon
his capture, death by decree.
     We would have to search for a place that would both accept us as we
were and be out of reach of Rome. I know not if there is such a place in
all the world, for the world is Rome, beyond a few beleaguered peoples such
as my own. But with Marcellus as my son, we would search for a new home by
day, share our love by night.
     Perhaps in some far-off land, among the marble temples of a foreign
people, Marcellus and I could at last find peace.

                             THE END
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