Date: Sun, 22 Feb 2004 12:12:57 +1300 From: Arthur Subject: The Barbarian Adult/Youth THE BARBARIAN By Arthur Authors Note: This story contains a sexual content involving adults and youths, if this is against the laws for your country, county or area then you are advised to read no further, if you are under the age of consent, you are advised to leave immediately. No breaches of your laws can be attributed to the author if you wish to continue. The copyright remains the property of the author and any attempts to copy for profit without the express permission of the author will be met with the appropriate actions. All comments welcome at rochopa@xtra.co.nz THE LAST BATTLE. Aristides stood like a sentinel over his fallen friend, fellow soldier and lover. His thick strong legs set astride the fallen body in an attitude of defense as Polideaus lay on the up torn stony ground of the battlefield. The Persians had fought long and hard, taking a heavy toll of the men of Lacedaemia, also known as Sparta. Aristides had reached his 36th summer and this was to be his last battle for the state, his tour of twenty years as a soldier of the state was to come to an end at the completion of this last battle. Polideaus had been his second lover and companion for the last ten years and both had fought and loved side by side ever since Polideaus had come to the conclave of Aristides. As with all Spartan men, Aristides had taken a wife after his first battle so many years before, but, alas she had fallen to the vapours of a cruel disease not long after presenting him with a son who was now serving his time for the state, as was expected. Aristides was no longer the handsome energetic youth of twenty years ago, his face showed the scars of many battles, as did most of his body, to a Spartan they were the badges of honour and service to state and king. The helmet on his head with the white horse hair crown running from front to back was finished off with the distinctive long black haired tail that flowed downwards to hang between his shoulder blades. The tail was a tribute to his long service and was again his badge of honour among the other soldiers. In these days of continual strife it was rare to see the black tail of an old soldier and many was the time he was targeted by the enemies spears and arrows as his destruction was hoped to break the tenacity of the Spartan ranks. The sign of tears for his lost lover looked out of place on the rugged visage of the man as he surveyed the carnage of battle that lay about him. Rank upon rank of the fallen Persians gave the land a stink of death as the blood soaked into the barren plain and the ravens began to gather for their feasting. The cries of the wounded drifted over the land mixing with the wailing of the gathering women as they searched for husbands and sons. This had been a battle of revenge on the Persians for their attack on Leonides and the 300 that fell at the pass of Thermopylae after being traitorously deceived by a Sheppard. The Lacedaemonians had thrown back the ten thousand Persians into the sea of the Aegean as their allies, the Greeks, had bought their fighting ships along the coast and destroyed the Persian fleet before their very eyes. The final slaughter had been a frenzy of blood lust and revenge as many Spartans, like Aristides, had gone into their berserker rage when their lover had fallen by their side. Aristides had stood astride the fallen body of Polideaus like the solid granite of the surrounding plain as he struck out blindly left and right in his pain of loss. The strength of his sword arm never failing him as one after another, the enemy rose and fell before his blade. Replacing his blood spattered short sword in its scabbard, Aristides knelt down beside his lover and with a final tear began the task of readying his body for the last return home. Aristides cut free the straps binding Polideaus arm to his large oval bronze shield and lay it on the ground beside the body. Next came the task of wrapping the boy in his dark red cloak but first he had to remove the Persian shaft that had destroyed the life he now wept for. Looking again at the boy he had known for ten years he noticed again the scars of earlier battles and the remains of Persian blood and grime on the short toga that all good Spartans wore as their only clothing, winter or summer. Straightening Polideaus legs, he wiped away the blood and dirt from the bronze grieves that protected the shins during battle. Spartans were not prone to wearing heavy Armour and the work of carrying the body on its shield was made lighter by the lack of the extra weight. At last his task was complete and it was only a matter of waiting for the help of others to carry his lover home on his shield, as all good Spartan dead should be. The awe held by the enemy of these soldiers of no fear, was reinforced by the sentence that their mothers said to them on the receiving of their shields. "Take this your shield and when you return, carry it proudly or be carried upon it." It was a tribute to the Spartan families to have any who fought for king and state to follow this rule to the very end. Aristides rose and looked down again at the red-cloaked figure lying on his bronze shield, and, as he lifted his eyes to send a prayer to the gods to protect Polideaus when he reached Olympus, he gazed once more over the carnage before him. Something attracted Aristides attention as his eyes roamed over the body strewn landscape, a movement or sound seemed to try to penetrate his dazed mind as his body lost its tension from the wildness of the fighting. Again his ears heard it, a soft child like moan coming from a pile of Persian dead close at hand. The movement of a small white hand from underneath a slain Persian officer, fluttered like a larks wing amid the blood and detritus of battle. With a glance down at the body of Polideaus, Aristides made his way towards the fluttering hand. A moan came again to his ears as he neared the piled bodies, more movement, and then he saw him. The slim dirty legs of a young boy poked out from underneath a Persian Officer, the hand could barely be seen as the Persian covered the small body almost completely. Aristides reached down and with a grunt, heaved the larger body to the side; the sight that met his eyes was as much a surprise as it was expected. A boy, a very dirty boy, clad in some type of animal skin breeches, the hair was neither black like the Persians nor wheaten like that of the Spartans but more of a copper red and although it was knotted and unkempt there was still a certain luster to it. The body below the hair was thin and covered with the blood of battle. A stiff leather wrist strap was bound tightly on the boys arm and was held in place with a copper rivet. Attached to the strap was a length of fine chain, which led to the waistband on the dead Persian. The boy was locked securely in life as the Persian was securely locked in death. THE BARBARIAN As the weight above him was flung away, freeing his body of the dead weight of his captor, Tansul tried to turn his head and look up at his savior. The sight that met his eyes was to cause him more fear than he had hoped for, one look at the tough visage above him sent his hopes of rescue into abject fear. The soldier stood over him like a tortured Valkure from the heights of Valhalla, An old scar ran from the soldiers left ear lobe down the length of his jaw, a new line of blood ran from an open wound across the mans nose, his wheaten coloured beard was sticky with the mans dribble and the dust of the plains. On the mans head was a bronze helmet with tufts of horse hair in white with a long black tail at the back, a huge bronze shield covered the left side of the soldiers body and his shins were covered with a pair of bronze grieves. His only clothing was a short white toga and a long blood red cloak hung from his wide shoulders. The eyes pierced his very soul as they looked down with an unwavering stare. Tansul's fear rose as he stared with rising apprehension at this fearsome warrior. The Persians had joked and laughed at him when telling of what the mighty Spartans would do to him if he were caught. His Persian captor, while not speaking the same tongue as Tansul, did however speak the same tongue as the Franks and this language Tansul had some small knowledge. "Ah, little Barbarian, you will make a fine meal for the Spartans if they catch you." "Eh, little one, the Spartans will bed you like a women many times over if they have their hands on you." "Yes Barbarian, they will take their short swords to your jewels in no time, then dress you as their girls are dressed." These horrors played on Tansul's mind as he looked up at the sight above him. Tethered by one wrist to his dead captor, Tansul could only lay and await his fate as the rough looking soldier drew out his short sword and lifted it above his head ready to strike. In desperation, Tansul tried to lift his bound arm to fend off the coming blow, amid the tears and sobs coming from his parched throat he stuttered out his plea. "Mein Herr, Mein Herr, nein, nein." To Tansul's terror struck eyes, it was obvious that this man of death did not understand his language and as the sword swung towards him Tansul screamed out his last plea. "Neeeiiiinnn." With the desperation of a dying man, Tansul reached with his free hand for a fallen scimitar and tried with all his strength to lift it to fend off the descending blade of the Spartan. Tansul knew the effort was futile as he looked up into the smiling face of death. AS THE GODS WISH The guttural sounds issuing from the mouth of the boy surprised Aristides as he raised his sword above his head, the boys bound arm was upraised and made it easier for him to strike sure, so giving the boy a smile for confidence, brought the sword down with all his might. The parting of the chain was no more than the tinkling of a small bell but in the silence of the battlefield it seemed to ring out loud and clear as though the gods had ordained a song of freedom for all. At the rough touch of the falling sword the small boy fainted and collapsed again onto the ground. Aristides sheathed his sword and, unstrapping his shield knelt down beside the comatose boy. After placing his shield over his back to hang by its shoulder strap, Aristides, with a gentleness that would never have been seen in the barracks of any soldier, lifted the small boy into his arms and hugged him close to his grime-covered chest. The unconscious boy seemed to whimper in his dreams of fear as Aristides tried to comfort him with soft caresses as he rose to his feet and moved back towards his lost love. The strange boy hung in his arms as though he too had succumbed to another's blade. The camp followers had begun to gather up the dead and wounded as Aristides stood and waited for his own Helots to arrive and take the last remains of Polideaus to his family for the final rest. The bundle in his arms moved and Aristides looked down into the opening eyes of the strange boy. The eyes that looked back at him were of a most startling green and had a depth to them that Aristides had never in all his long life seen. They looked like the emerald green stones so highly prized by the aristocracy in Athens. The flecks of blood and smudges of dirt did little to take away the beauty that showed in the face of the boy. Aristides could now see that the boy would be in his 12th or 13th summer and his lean chest had not yet taken on the muscle of a developing body. Inner warmth began to move through Aristides body as he looked down into the cherubic, if dirty, face of his new charge. A stirring began under his toga as the effects of holding the boy so close to his chest took his mind off the destruction of this day. Tansul felt the strong sweaty arms of the soldier holding him close and with a realization that he was not, as yet, about to be slain, he relaxed into the enfolding warmth and security of the mans touch. The soldier stood unmoving as he softly sent shivers of delight through Tansul's body with his gentle caresses. Tansul looked up at the face as it gazed to a far away place that only the soldier knew. "My name is Tansul, are you going to slay me?" The strange guttural language of the boy came to Aristides ear as he stared aimlessly at the field of death that surrounded them both, his thoughts far away in the past with his Polideaus. The words were unintelligible to Aristides but the note of concern in the boys voice was well noted. "What is it you ask, my little one? You have no need to worry." Aristides drew the boy a little closer to his chest in a comforting action and further caressed his slim back to ease his fear. To Tansul's ear, the strange language of the soldier had a warming and comforting sound and the extra caresses and secure closeness of the arms made him relax onto the grime covered chest. Tansul's rough leather leggings became tighter as his slight body reacted to the touches of the soldiers coarse hands, here was more than a slave, more than a meal, more than a boy to be used as his previous captor was going to use him. Tansul let his head rest in peace on the chest in a final acceptance of his new station in what had been a very distressing young life. Taken in a raid on the caravan of his parents many travels from their homeland, Tansul had given up all hope of ever being free again. It was well known in his land about the slavery habits of the Persians and their penchant for young nubile boys as catamites for their pleasure. Had the Persian army not been intercepted by the feared Spartans, Tansul was sure he would by this evening be naked under the body of his Persian captor as his body was ravaged by the needs of the man. The thought of such actions were not totally abhorred by Tansul but only the manner in which his body would have been taken. The sadistic nature of the Persians was well known throughout the Northern lands and Tansul's fate in the bed of a captor was not what he would have desired. Tansul heard the unfamiliar sound of the Spartans language as he lay against the strong chest. "Take up this hero of Sparta and carry him to his family." Aristides gave the order to the three Helots of his family and without another look, turned with the boy still firmly clasped in his hands and began to leave the field of death, his steps now a little lighter for the slim burden he carried in his arms. As he left the field, Aristides heard a loud call from behind, turning his head he saw approaching the figures of three of his conclave. Waiting until the others came up to him he then asked. "Is there no others from our conclave?" "No Aristides, we are all that remain, what have you there?" "A boy from the battle, he was chained to a Persian, speaks a strange language so I don't know from where he hails." "By the smell of him it must be where there is no water." "Enough, Demacles, I see you and Estaes have survived, as well as Daemius?" "Yes, Estaes and I are the only pairing from our conclave to survive. So many lost this time Aristides." "Yes, to many, but my duty to the state is now complete and I must leave to take Polideaus to his family." "Our sorrow for your loss, Aristides." "My thanks to you and the others Demacles, now I must get this boy to my home, he needs care." "Walk with the gods Aristides, the conclave will never be the same without your presence." Aristides gave a short nod of his head and with a small adjustment to the position of the boy in his arms, left the three standing together to continue his journey homeward. A part of him glowed at the thought of the boy in his arms while another part shed tears for his lost lover, Polideaus. It would take two days to reach his family home and as he marched northward he began to make plans as to where he would spend the first night. There was an Inn no more than two hours march from his present position and he could see no reason for not stopping there for the rest of the day and night. As he approached the Inn, Aristides could see by the height of the sun that there was no more than two hours of the day left and felt he had gone as far as he wished, so the closeness of the Inn to the battle field was more fortunate than he would normally have wanted. Like all things in Lacedaemia, the Inn was truly Spartan, both inside and out. The yard had a small stone fenced area for two cows and an ass, chickens ran around freely looking for a meal in the stony ground. The Inn was built from the granite of the nearby mountains and the doorway was of solid timber from an olive tree. Inside were a few rough-hewn tables and stools and in a corner an old crone sat over a pot that bubbled on an open fire. The Inn Keeper was of an indeterminate age but the scars of battle on his fleshy face told their own story of his life. "Greetings Soldier, the Persians have paid their price, I have heard." "As it should be, I need a room and a bath as well as food and wine. We'll be staying the night to rest and leave at dawn." The Inn Keeper looked at the boy in Aristides arms and with a faint smile asked. "A trophy of the battle, Soldier?" "A survivor, now where is our room?" "Take the room at the top of the stairway and to the front, there is more light there and the sun will awaken you at its rising." "And the bath?" "My Helot will get it ready for you then call when it is ready." Aristides nodded to the Keeper and moved towards the stairway, the boy in his arms never took his eyes off Aristides face as they ascended towards their room. "Don't worry, little one, no harm will come to you." The soft tone of the Soldiers voice made Tansul feel safe and with barely a smile rested his head back on the solid chest as he had done during the march to the Inn. The room, as was to be expected, was no more than a large alcove with an open arch leading out to the narrow veranda. A large clean pallet lay on the floor and another rough-hewn table and stool stood in one corner. Aristides gave out a sigh of relief at reaching a resting place and with the feeling; his strength began to leave him. Placing the boy down on the pallet he slumped onto the stool and looked into the boys eyes. The clear green depth of them entranced Aristides and his groin began to stir in desire for the boy. Tansul could plainly see the lust and desire rising in the Soldiers eyes as he lay on the pallet not knowing if he should move or talk. The strangeness of the Soldiers language and the cold starkness of the Inn did little to give him rest; with little else to do Tansul lay back again and waited for the rough looking Soldier to make his move. Time had no meaning to Aristides as he fell deeper into the green eyes of the boy and it was only as the sun began to send out the more reddish rays of approaching dusk that the voice of the Inn's Helot told him that the bath was ready for them. Aristides rose to his feet and with a smile at the boy held out his hand for the boy to grasp. The boy appeared to hesitate and then with a wistful smile rose to take the offered hand. Aristides led them both down the stairs and as they followed the Helot out to the bathing house at the rear of the Inn the boy pulled just a little closer. While all of Sparta lived a very minimalistic life style the one item that was never skimped on was the bathing room. The Inn had built a very large Callidarium with a deep bathing pool well filled with steaming water. The fires below the base of the pool were tamped down to keep the same heat and were fed wood from the outside so the bathers would not be disturbed. The petals of mountain flowers floated on the surface and a marble table with many oils and scents sat beside the pool. Aristides felt his body relax further at the sights and smells that pervaded the room. Releasing the boys hand, Aristides began to remove his grieves and sandals as the boy stood in awe of his surroundings. Tansul watched with some trepidation as the Soldier began to remove his Armour and sandals, the stirring in his groin brought a flush of redness to his young cheeks. The Soldier made a gesture with his hand indicating that Tansul should also remove his clothing. A look of fear and embarrassment flew over Tansul's face as the Soldier unclasped the pins holding his toga and with no further thought dropped the blood and dirt soiled covering on the floor. Tansul stepped back as his mouth gaped at the lack of shame shown by the Soldier. The mans body before him was well muscled and showed a lifetime of training and fighting. The many old scars told him of a long career at the front of battle but what took his eye more than any other was the semi erect manhood. Tansul's own boyhood would appear so small compared to that of the Soldier and his embarrassment in creased. Aristides looked at the hesitation of the boy and where the lads eyes were riveted, with a smile at his charge he leant forward and very slowly lay a hand on the slim shoulder before him. With a nod at the foul smelling breeches on the boy, Aristides lowered his hand as he knelt on one knee before the boy and began to undo the thong at the boy's waist. Tansul could not take his eyes off the manhood as the Soldier lowered himself down before him and hardly felt the hand releasing the thong and sliding his leather breeches down his legs. As the breeches rested on the boys ankles, Aristides looked up into those green pools above him, then, with a small nudge of his hand indicated that the boy should lift his feet from the legs of the foul breeches. In a dazed state Tansul allowed the Soldier to remove his covering and as the breeches were slipped over his feet he realized that his boyhood was upright and right before the eyes of the man kneeling before him. Aristides smiled at the upright boy and with a gentle movement raised both hands to take the boy under the armpits and lift him up as he rose to his feet. The boy's hardness gave Aristides a new rush of strength as he carried him to the pool and descended into the waiting steam of the bath. While the water depth only came up to a little above Aristides waist, once he had placed his burden on his own feet the water came up to the boy's chest, just enough to reach his small nipples and tease them with heat. Tansul almost jumped at the hot water as it reached his chest but within seconds it began to overtake his senses just as the closeness of the Soldiers body was doing, his boyhood refused to slacken as he stood barely touching the others skin. Aristides let the heat overtake him and as his muscles began to relax the closeness of the boy had a different effect on his manhood, it sprang upright with a will all its own as the boy stood unmoving almost touching. Without another thought Aristides pulled the slight figure to him and with gentle hands caressed the boys back and shoulders. At the first touch, Tansul surrendered to the gentle hands, his own going up to link themselves around the strong waist of the man who had taken him from the Persians. The feeling he had was of safety and something more was making itself felt deep within his chest. The touch of the course hair on the belly and groin of the Man sent shivers through Tansul's body and with a groan his boyhood released its milk into the depths of the water as he shuddered and twisted in the mans arms. Aristides felt the boy's sudden shuddering and smiled down at the red face of the boy as his small shaft began to droop against his belly. Aristides clasped the panting boy closer and began to ease their joined bodies towards the low shelf of stone that surrounded the pool. Once at the shelf, Aristides lowered himself down and drew the boy onto his waiting lap, the boy reached up with both hands and wrapped them around Aristides neck as he let his small tousled head fall onto the wide shoulder. Tansul's breath eased as he was held close by the Soldier and the warmth of the water relaxed his body until he was almost asleep, the feel of the Soldiers hands as they ran up and down his back made Tansul snuggle a little closer to the strong body holding him. Aristides rested his head back until it was supported by the edge of the pool and held the boy against himself, letting the warmth and easing water drain the horrors of the battle from his mind. As the time passed, Aristides began to smell the rank odour of them both, so, with a gentle push he raised up the head of the boy from his neck and indicated that the boy should lean his head back on the edge of the pool, supporting himself with his arms as Aristides placed one arm under the slight body and lifted his torso until it was floating just below the surface of the steaming water. The boy sent him a bright and thankful smile as Aristides reached with his free hand for a vial of scented oil. Opening the vial he spread the oil onto the slim chest of the boy and began to slowly and gently rub it into the soft skin of his chest, slowly working his way down to the slim belly and waist. Aristides hands, the same ones that were capable of death and destruction, took on a gentle softness that surprised even him; the calluses on his palms became soft sponges as he lathered the boyish skin under them. Tansul felt the oil penetrating his skin and the softness of the rubbing hands sent him into another world where the loss and horror of his capture seemed to disappear. The herbs and oils began to clean the boy's skin and Aristides slowed his rubbing to see more of the translucence of the skin as it appeared from the covering of grime and blood. Aristides noticed that the boy was watching his every move and with a smile raised his hand and pointed at his own chest. "Aristides." The alert look in the boy's face told him that the lad understood him perfectly and with a small clean finger pointed at his own chest. "Tansul." As Aristides repeated the name over and over again the sound of the boy's name almost became a chant, Tansul's eyes looked in askance of this Soldier with the strange name of Aristides. "A name like an ode my little one, I will make you my own if you will allow me too." Tansul did not understand the words said to him but there was something in the voice of Aristides that gave him a feeling of peace and safety. Tansul could only reach for the rugged face above him and with a small finger he gently traced the long scar that ran down the rough cheek. At Tansul's touch, Aristides smiled and leant down to place a soft kiss on the thin ribs and small nipples. A vibration in Tansul's chest, much like a tame cat's purring, transmitted to Aristides lips as they caressed the boyish chest. An immediate reaction took place within Tansul's body as the lips worked on his chest and the feel of Aristides beard tickled his bare skin. The sensation of two large hands roaming over his narrow hips brought a sudden increase in the tightness of his foreskin as the hidden glans tried to break clear. Aristides noticed the reactions and with infinite patience began to rub softly down the boys inner thighs until the small body lifted its torso upwards to increase the feeling. At the first sign of need by Tansul, Aristides lowered his mouth and with a slight suction, took the upright boyhood between his lips. A shower of stars lit up Tansul's brain as the warm hot wetness surrounded his rigid shaft and a tongue worked its way down over his tender young genitals. The mixture of clean boy and scented oil drove Aristides mouth to work harder as his own rigidity sprang upward to pulse demandingly against his stomach. Without thought Tansul spread his legs apart until they were one each side of the standing Aristides hips. As the new friend closed the small gap between the two bodies, Tansul felt a large throbbing shaft graze his inner thighs and then find a new place to settle along the crease where his legs met his torso. Something twitched deep inside Tansul as the hardness pushed against him, his own legs betrayed him as they locked around Aristides waist, pulling the bigger man in closer as he thrust his hips higher. Aristides released his mouth from the wanting boyhood, sliding his hands up under Tansul's armpits he lifted the boy until he clasped him close to his chest, his raging shaft hard against the slim hips where the hotness was not created by the water of the pool. The build up of need and tension began to take over the thoughts of then both, Aristides could hold back no longer, he knew that Tansul was ready and his own need was now overpowering as the slight body repeated its demand. Aristides lifted them both from the pool and with great control lay Tansul down on the divan beside the pool; the warmth of the fur-covered padding could not match the desire in Tansul's eyes. Aristides seemed to tower over the smaller figure as his rampant shaft threw a shadow from the last dying rays of the sun, over the chest of Tansul. The heady smell of lust permeated through the Callidarium as they gazed at each other, no words were spoken and none would have been understood by either but in the atmosphere that abounded around them the answers were well written by the hands of the gods. Tansul moved his body upwards on the divan, his legs bent at the knee and splayed well apart in an unmistakable invitation to the lust filled need of the Spartan Warrior. Aristides reached for the oil of the olive tree and with no further thought began to smear it liberally between the open legs of the little Barbarian. At the first touch of his finger on the tightly closed hole of Tansul, there came a groan of such need that Aristides almost drove his finger deep inside as his own legs shook in anticipation of taking this small jewel as his own. Tansul had no idea as to why he wanted to feel the length of Aristides deep inside him but the demand was to great for him to ignore as the oil was rubbed with urgency over the tender crease between the parted slim legs. Aristides used the very tip of his finger to caress and tease the hot lips of the youthful hole, pressing harder and harder at the resistance until with total abandon, Tansul's flesh gave way and almost sucked the searching finger inside. That first feeling of heat on Aristides well oiled finger brought instant reaction from his now dripping shaft, his need rose more and more as the finger dug deeper and the moans of Tansul grew louder as the intrusion entered and withdrew repeatedly. As the willing hole relaxed, Aristides let a second finger tease at the door to Tansul's inner heat, again the opening enlarged in its need for more to fill it and Aristides obliged with the second digit. Regardless of the tightness, Tansul thrust his hips towards the fullness as it enveloped him in a mist of lust. The body and heat of Tansul was too much for Aristides to ignore further and as he knelt between the open legs he saw that Tansul's eyes were glazed with an unknown desire to be filled. Aristides rubbed the olive oil onto his shaft until it glistened in the dying light, then, with more care than he had ever shown he rested his throbbing man hood at the opening being offered to him. The desire to thrust inward with no thought for the body under him was almost to much for Aristides and it was only with great effort that he resisted the temptation, something about Tansul made him go forward gently and with care. At the first touch of his glans on the hot skin of the opening, Aristides reached down and pulled back fully the skin that had barely covered the purple head. Tansul's head was shaking from side to side as he felt the first touch of the man above him, his scream of lust rang out loud and clear in the cooling evening air. Aristides pushed forward gently, feeling the tight skin giving a little as Tansul's body writhed and twisted at the touch. The resistance of the tight skin held Aristides back until with a harder push a tight almost snapping ring of steel like skin enveloped his glans. Tansul's eyes flew open in shock as the large head entered his body and the sphincter muscle contracted to try to expel the invader. Aristides felt Tansul shudder deep inside his body at the invasion of his rampant rod; the wide-open mouth of the slim boy beneath him showed the surprise that he felt in his fullness. Aristides pushed forward again and felt the velvet of Tansul's skin close down hard on his hardness. Wild thoughts and feelings rushed through Tansul as the hardness of the man above him filled him to overflowing, his body said "NO", but his head cried out for more of that large rod invading him. An unknown itch deep inside his body sighed with pleasure as the rigid flesh of Aristides pushed again into the willing boy. There was no sense of time or place as the two desperate and needy bodies cried out for fulfillment of their separate but much needed desire. The initial pain of entry receded as Tansul felt the shaft begin to bury itself deeper into his now willing body. As the large glans pushed deeper, something inside Tansul sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through his sweating body, his own shaft jumped in acknowledgement of the touch. Eons passed as the tense muscle buried itself until Tansul could feel the tickling of Aristides pubic hair against his bare skin. The pain of the entry fought with the pleasure that wanted to suck Tansul's mind into a vortex so deep that he would never surface into the world that awaited him in reality. This Spartan who had taken him up in his arms was all that Tansul could Have dreamt for after the destruction of his family by the Persians and now this fulfillment of his unknown desire were taking him to heights that only the gods had known. The heat of the Callidarium, mixed with the heat of his own body made Aristides into and animal of lust as the writhing boy under him grunted and moaned out his wants. Aristides began his first withdrawal, the nails on Tansul's fingers dug deep into Aristides shoulders at the feeling of that place inside him as the rod rubbed it once more. The sensations were too much for Tansul, his tender age and the situation took control and his belly became slick with his young seed as Aristides continued his urgent thrusts. The clamping tightness around his surging rod sent a message to his libido and with a cry much like that of a wounded man, Aristides felt his soul jettison out into the waiting receptacle of Tansul. Muscle cramps overtook both bodies as their lust was at last sated in their combined eruptions. As he collapsed from his exertions, Aristides took care not to place his full weight on the smaller figure of Tansul and rolled to the side as he took the wasted body in his arms to clasp it with an unsoldierly tenderness that surprised even him. Tansul no longer knew where he was or why he was there, the hazy mist of his joining overtook all reason as he felt Aristides take him close in his arms. A feeling came to Tansul, much the same as when his now dead parents gave him their love, that consumed his every thought, this Soldier, this Spartan, this man, had now given to him in the sanctity of their joining, a feeling of deep needed love, one that would make him avow to never leave the side of his Aristides. The feeling of mental and physical satiation took Aristides to that place of the gods that all men spent their lives seeking. Tansul could not reconcile his own feelings as the frantic activities of the past minutes came back to his besotted mind. The sting, like that of a bee, reminded him of the entry he had lusted for during the heat of their exchange but the closeness of the man body beside him settled any doubts as to where he would want to be. Darkness had fallen and the two bodies lay still entwined as one until a noise at the door of Callidarium made Aristides raise his head from the divan. "Sir, my Master, the Inn Keeper, would ask if you wish to partake of a meal?" The Helot stood unwaveringly at the door as Aristides and Tansul lay on the divan in an afterglow of sexual satiation. Aristides Nodded to the Helot and with a soft touch on the shoulder of Tansul began to rise from their mutual rest. The Helot left as Aristides reached for two white cloths to cover their nakedness and then took Tansul up in his arms and carried him back to their room to don long clean cloaks provided by the Inn Keeper for his guests. Once covered Aristides took Tansul by the hand and led him down to the bare room of the Inn where a meal of roasted goat, plantains and exotic fruit from the caravans of the defeated Persians lay on a table. The crone that had been tending the cooking fire and disappeared and as Aristides and Tansul sat at the table the Helot appeared with an urn of rich red wine from the vines of Athens. Aristides reached for a plate of fresh olives and after extracting the seed from its center, smiled at Tansul and pushed the olive into the boy's mouth with a light caress of his lips as he did so. Tansul answered with a smile of pleasure and chewed hungrily on the oily fruit. Tansul could wait on the other side of the table no longer, so, with an overt glance from under his long lashes at Aristides, he stood and carried the wooden stool around to the same side as his man and with a wriggle nestled into Aristides side, laying his head on the mans shoulder. The heat of the lithe body gave Aristides a new sense of self as he took a piece of roasted goat meat and slipped it into the small mouth, Tansul's hands stayed where he had put them, resting lightly on the solid thigh of Aristides, quite content to be hand fed by his protector. The wooden goblet of wine was pressed against his lips as the flavour of the freshly roasted goat slid down his narrow throat. Aristides sat spell bound by every movement that Tansul made, whether chewing or swallowing, he had no doubt that he was totally captivated by the Barbarian Boy at his side. Their dinner progressed with Aristides feeding Tansul by hand as the boy needed, Tansul was quite happy to have his food placed in his mouth by this man that had given him something more valuable than gold itself. The feelings going through his young and once virginal body were those of love, closeness and an undying need for his male companionship. At the end of their meal, Aristides sat back with a deep sigh of contentment as he placed a protecting arm around Tansul's shoulder and drew him closer. As Tansul laid his head on the solid shoulder his boyhood jumped to its full extent, poking out the robe to show Aristides how he felt. With a smile, Aristides slipped an arm under Tansul's body and stood upright with the boy held to his chest, a quick glance at the need on Tansul's face and he began the short journey to their room above the Inn. The final decision had been made at their first joining. Aristides had found the one person he wanted to spend his remaining years with. The reactions and feelings conveyed to him by Tansul made the desire for a quiet retirement from the rigors of his past life with this young boy a certainty. The smell of their previous sexual joining was still emanating from their pores as Aristides lay Tansul on their mutual pallet, there would be little sleep this night and Tansul would not have wanted it any other way. END: