Date: Sun, 7 Jun 2020 16:04:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: Marcellus and Glaucus - installment 10

Marcellus kept his distance from Flavius in the slaves' quarters.  He
scoffed  "A FARMER had dared to challenge him?  And to what end?
Marcellus' preferences were well known to the bed slaves.  Kept from
Demos, he had toyed with Eric, and Eric had seemed to enjoy the
attention, of being pinned under Marcellus, and of having his body used
as much as were possible, by Marcellus.   Flavius was too old for his
taste.  Perhaps Glaucus preferred older bed mates:  Marcellus' heart was
with Demos, and Eric, and the other younger slaves who worked at Glaucus'
estate.

For Flavius, it was a matter of pride:  he had been captured by soldiers,
taken because he had no weapon. He had seen other farmers who fought,
slaughtered on the fields.  The Romans had descended on his field en
masse, while he and Ulrich - now Urban - were planting harvest.  Had he
not been purchased by Glaucus for his bed slave, he would undoubtedly
have eventually found his way to some estate where farmers and field
workers were needed.  He had heard of the Romans' treatment of such
slaves:  back breaking, difficult work, sometimes being sent to remote
parts of the empire, such as Sicily, to work the huge wheat fields
there.  It was soldiers who had taken him:  he would not consent to being
the beta to an alpha slave, who was a soldier, and had himself been
captured.

He thought about his son, being used in the same way he was being used.
Ulrich was smart.  Indeed, he spent so much time with his books, that
Flavius - when he was Franz - often had to force him to the fields to
help him. Ulrich - now Urban - had been destined to be a scholar.  But
even early on, Flavius knew that his son's looks - acquired from the mix
of his own genes, and those of his mother - a beautiful woman indeed -
would be problematic.  Even before the boy had reached the age of having
seed, the local girls would flock to see him work in the fields.  To his
credit, Ulrich had never seemed interested  in any of them.  His books
were his refuge, and the work on the farm was hard.  It pleased Flavius
that his son showed no interest, but now, to know that his purity had
been taken by a rich Roman, was difficult.    He hadn't seen his son
since the slave market, and wondered if he would again.

"Marcellus.  Flavius.  Our Lord wishes you both in his chambers.  There
are matters to discuss regarding your up and coming match."  Both men
rose.  The attendant was accompanied by a large, muscular Nubian who
carried the scourge whip.  He was not shy about using it, and they had
both seen it happen.  Glaucus would not be happy if his bed slaves were
injured, but if it were necessary, so be it.

In Glaucus' sitting room, the two men took the appropriate poses of
submission.  "AH, my handsome bed slaves.  Fortunate is a man who has
ONE.  Beyond fortunate is the man who has TWO.   The wrestling match has
been scheduled.  You will wrestle in the public arena,  in two days.
Normally it would be here, but when word spread of who would be wrestling
, the interest was, shall we say, great.  "

The two looked at each other.  There was no animosity between them, but
there could only be one alpha.

"The rules of the combat are simple:  the victor MUST take his prize at
the end of the contest.  To be clearer, at the end, one of you will have
his cage removed, and is REQUIRED to prove his dominance, before all in
attendance.  Flavius, as the challenger, it is your right to determine
the rules of the contest.  There are several options.  The first, is a
one fall competition.  Whoever defeats the other, regardless of how it is
done, is the victor.    The second is to see who can win two matches
first.  In that option, the victories must come from pins.  " He smiled.
"The final option, is to wrestle, until one of you wins three times.
 Those three wins must happen via different means.  There must be a pin.
There must be a submission.  And there must be a win whereby the
vanquished has been put to sleep.   Flavius, you will give me your choice
of combat. "

"My Lord.  I choose the three match option."  Marcellus smiled to
himself.  He believed that he was in much better shape than this....
FARMER.    He would outlast him, and retain his position as alpha.  "

Glaucus smiled.  "I would have chosen that myself.  You are two
magnificent specimens. The more exposure you have to the crowd, the
better. " He smiled more broadly.  "Keep in mind that it is my
prerogative, which I WILL choose to exercise,  to dine with the winner,
before taking him to bed after the victory."  He paused.

"Are there any questions?"

Marcellus spoke up.  "My Lord, will Demos be there?"
Glaucus smiled.  "He did not wish to attend, but he is my slave now, and
he will.  He will watch at my side."
"And Ulrich, my Lord?"  Glaucus smiled again.  "You refer to Urban, your
son?  My understanding is that Portius does intend to bring him.
"Would it be possible to see him after the match, My Lord?"
"That will depend on Portius, and myself.  We will discuss it. Perhaps
there can be some agreement reached.  "  He paused.  "In fact, I believe
we will make this more interesting.  The tradition is that the victor
takes the vanquished, in public.  I do think we will give the victor the
chance to choose whom he takes in public.  Do consider that as you rest
and prepare over the next two days."  He clapped his hands. "You are
dismissed."  He turned to the attendant.  "Bring me Eric and Amad.  I
believe I shall have them both tonight.  "

Both Marcellus and Flavius went about their regular affairs for the next
day.  At the gymnasium, Marcellus spoke with Clodius about the match.
Clodius warned him not to be overconfident.  "Marcellus, yes, you are
used to warfare, but you fought on a horse, or at a distance, with sword
and spear.  Your wrestling is excellent, but you must remember:  Flavius
wrestled with beasts every day.  And  you have no idea of his experience
as a young man.  I have seen him in town.  His physique is not
insubstantial.  Be warned.  Do not become over confident."  He paused.
"And Marcellus, do not obsess on Demos.  Is it not clear to you that
Glaucus is favoring Flavius?  By bringing your consort into the arena, at
HIS side, where you will not be able to avoid seeing him, you will become
distracted, if you let it happen.  DO NOT LET IT HAPPEN.  It is easy to
do so.

"Clodius, may I ask:  do you speak from experience?"

He sighed.  "I do.  My own consort was an older man.  He was not able to
accept the humiliation of defeat, and took his own life.   The owner of
this gymnasium put me to work here, and when the gymnasium is closed, I
return to an empty bed - unless I am called for.  This is my life now
Marcellus.  They control us.   Take as much of it back, as you may."

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"Demos!  It seems that life here has suited you well."  The attendants
had brought  Demos To Glaucus, after Titus had made sure he looked
spotless.  He had shaved the bit of stubble from the young man's chin,
and had used a bit of fragrant balm on him.  Clad in a loin cloth only,
with his hairless chest, Demos was the ideal for anyone looking for a
young man to bed that night.
"Thank you My Lord.  My Lord has been generous to me, as have my
supervisors."  Glaucus put  his hand on Demos' shoulder.  "Today, you
will be my guest at the match between Marcellus and Flavius."  Demos
blushed at the name of Marcellus.  Glaucs noticed, and squeezed the young
man's shoulder a bit.

"He is still in your head.  That is fine.  He will fade like a dye."
"With all due respect My Lord.  I think not. "
"We shall see.   We shall see.  We shall be joined by your former Master,
but worry not.  He will be here with his new bauble - the lad Urban.  "
"You are kind Sir.  What son would not want to see his father in combat?"
"Indeed Demos.  No less than a former consort would want to see his
other  part ?"
"My Lord, I regret correcting you, but Marcellus remains my consort.  We
have pledged to each other."
"Pledges   BAH."  He smiled at Glaucus.  "Perhaps I will be able to find
you a partner from amongst the other slaves.   There are several Nubians
here whom I have seen eyeing you with a smile. "
"My Lord, I am happy with my situation as it is."
Glaucus smiled.  "All this time as a slave, and you have not learned that
your happiness is irrelevant.  Should I wish to see you pierced by one of
my Nubians, it shall happen."

At that moment, an attendant entered.

"My Lord, Portius is here with his companion."
"AH YES.  Please invite them in."  Portius had worn a dark blue tunic. He
had Urban with him, in a pure white loin cloth, and no upper garment.
Urban wore the red collar Portius required of all his slaves - Demos had
worn one before he came to the house of Glaucus - and a band about his
arm,  to indicate that he was Portius' property.  The two men embraced,
as Urban and Demos eyed each other suspiciously.

"Has Demos behaved properly for you Glaucus?"
"He shows more spirit than I thought you permitted in your slaves.  But
beyond that, he is fine.  I am thinking of pairing him with a Nubian. I
must give it more thought."

"OH, he would make a lovely contrast with a shaved Nubian, for sure."  He
paused and smiled.  "I must tell you, Urban has provided me with superb
pleasure." He pulled the reluctant boy to him. "he responds so well to
reward and punishment."  He smiled more broadly.  "And together, we
learned of many of his secrets.   The boy was not only a  virgin at his
bud, but a virgin all around.  No man, no woman, had ever touched him."

"How sweet for you Portius.  The unfortunate thing about such a virgin is
that he is such for only one night."
"A fair point, but it is a night all should experience once."  He
paused.  "Glaucus, I have been thinking about a potential entertainment
for the future.  Urban and Demos are approximately the same size, and the
same look.  I wonder if a match between the two of them, for domination,
might be in order."

"WHAT A SPLENDID IDEA.  ."  Glaucus smiled.  "Perhaps a private match.
You, myself, Marcellus and Flavius as the vieweres.  Or perhaps a first
match between Marcellus and Flavius followed by these two.  The
vanquished today will have the right to rematch in the span of one moon.
Whoever is defeated will request it - I am sure of that. Perhaps a month
from now."  He paused and smiled.  "We shall have to consider the
stakes.  I do think the idea of one of them taking the other, is
appealing."

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The contest would occur outside,  in the interval before the setting of
the sun.  The wrestling space itself, covered with sand, caught the light
of the setting sun best, and  that light would reflect well on the
combatants, both of whom would be oiled lightly for the fight.   There
were , perhaps , 300 Romans who attended, including all of Glaucus'
household, Portius and Urban, Clodius, the gladiatorial school, and
others with financial interests.    There was sacrifice to Palaistra, the
goddess of wrestling,  a prayer to the gods, and then the introduction of
the combatants.  Wrestling was done without clothes.  For the meet, both
men were released from their cages.  There were no time limits on each
match; however, there would be a short interval between each one.

After bowing to each other, the first match began.  Those who knew
wrestling could see the different styles immediately.  Marcellus, quick
and lithe, with sharp, short moves and gestures, and Flavius, slower,
more deliberate, but clearly more grounded and stable on his feet.  There
was some parlaying, with hands thrust forward, and brought back, and a
very fast grapple at shoulder level.  Flavius was much stronger than
Marcellus had anticipated, and he was somewhat frustrated.  He had
charged, twice, and Flavius, experienced with moving out of the way of an
angry bull, sidestepped him both times.
The third time was the charm for Marcellus, as he veered from  his
charge, and surprised Flavius by gripping him from behind.  He had a
tight hold on Flavius' middle, and Flavius was unable to break the
hold.

"Prepare to lose FARMER"  Marcellus yelled, as he pulled Flavius from the
ground and then threw him on his back.  Flavius scuttled to a defensive
position, his stomach on the ground.
"FATHER!"  Ulrich lost his emotions and stood up to yell.  Portius ran a
finger behind his knee, and the sensation caused Ulrich to lose his
balance.  He fell back onto Portius, who held him tight.  "I'm watching.
I'm learning new things for our games, Urban."  He ran his tongue over
Urban's ear: one of the spots he had learned where Urban was most
sensitive."

In the ring, Marcellus had set to work trying to flip Flavius.  When that
didn't work, he needed another approach, and he backed up, grabbing
Flavius' ankles,  and twisting them into an X pattern.

'AGGGGGGH. "  the scream of pain from Flavius was so loud the whole arena
heard it.  Marcellus began to bend the ankles back.  Flavius knew what
would happen next:  he used the same approach when hogtying animals to
mark them.  If Marcellus got his wrists,  the round would be over.  He
gritted his teeth and, with all of his strength, kicked back.

The force of the kick pushed off Marcellus, and the sand underneath his
feet was unforgiving, and he fell back.  Before he could get back to his
feet, the slower, heavier Flavius had reciprocated, grabbing Marcellus'
ankles in the same hold.  Flavius was experienced in hogtying his
animals, and Marcellus' wrists did not escape his grasp.  He had
Marcellus in a tight grip, and rocked back and forth.  "YOU WILL
SURRENDER SOLDIER."

"NO MARCELLUS.  FIGHT IT."  Now Demos was on his feet, yelling.  Glaucus
let him yell, as he found his sword growing during the fight.

Marcellus could not move his joints for the grip that Flavius held.  He
knew that Flavius would not be able to hold the grip for long, but the
strength the man had on it was overpowering.  Marcellus felt his arms
almost disjoining from his shoulders.  Now it was his turn to scream.
Twice.  And three times.

"Were there rope, Marcellus, I would have you bound and carried off for
branding.  Perhaps I shall suggest it.  NOW SUBMIT!   Flavius yelled, and
again, the resounding response of the crowd was mixed, with some calling
for submission, and others urging Marcellus to fight.  Marcellus could
feel Flavius' strength begin to ebb, but his own strength was ebbing
faster, and he had more matches to fight.  He saw no other alternative.


"I GIVE.  I SUBMIT."

There was a roar from the crowd, as  Flavius released his hold. He
planted his foot on the small of Marcellus' back and accepted the
applause of the audience.  Both competitors returned to their corners, to
rest for the next grapple.   Glaucus turned to Portius and to Urban.
"Congratulations young man.  Your father has surprised the soldier."
"Thank you My Lord.  My father surprises many people.  He will defeat
this soldier.  "
"We will see about that, Urban,"  Demos spoke out of turn, and found
Glaucus hand over his mouth.
"Portius, I apologize for my slave's impertinence.  I will deal with it
when we return.
Portius grinned a tight smile.  "perhaps you SHOULD have let me send him
to the mines."  At that, a quiver went through Demos, and he relaxed.
When Glaucus uncovered his mouth, he spoke.  "My apologies My Lord.  It
will not happen again."


Flavius and Marcellus took their short break.  Marcellus was frustrated.
This farmer was not in the physical condition he was, he was not as fast
as he was - yet he had won the first bout.   And he had won it fairly.
By submission.  He had learned enough of Flavius' skills to know that, if
he were locked in one of Flavius' holds, he would not be able to escape,
and Flavius would restrict his air to the point where he would fall
asleep.  So, too, if Flavius were to fall upon him, and use the trick of
the knee to the pelvis, he would never break the pin.  His only way to
victory was his speed:  he needed to tire out Flavius.

For his part, Flavius had experienced the speed that Marcellus had, and
his not inconsiderable strength.  He, too, saw the need to tire out his
opponent.  He now knew he was stronger than Marcellus, so if he could
somehow trap Marcellus in one of his bear hugs or other strength moves,
he knew he would win.

The fighters returned to the center of the arena, bowed to the audience,
and began.  Marcellus used his speed again, trying to find a weakness in
Flavius postion that he could exploit.  Flavius, in response, went into a
slightly crouched position, which made his footing more stable.  It
proved to be the right choice, because when Marcellus tried to sweep him
to the ground at the ankles, he merely wobbled.

Frustrated, Marcellus charged.  This is what Flavius was waiting for.  He
grabbed Marcellus from the front, and began to squeeze.  The audience
could see the pain etched on Marcellus' face, and had Flavius not won a
submission hold already,  he could have taken this one easily.  Instead,
he squeezed Marcellus at the waist, until his knees bent.  From that
position, it was easy to bring him to the ground.  There was a grin from
Flavius, and he muttered  "you will be taking my sword, Marcellus," as he
fell upon him and pinned him for the second win.

"Demos, it seems your man is going to lose,"  gloated Glaucus.   What a
treat to see someone else take your consort with his sword."
"My Lord, the match is not over .  You have not yet experienced
Marcellus' anger.

Demos was right.  Marcellus began the third match as if he had swallowed
Ares' fire.  He used his speed again, but he coupled it with strength and
drove Flavius to his knees after a series of attacks to his upper body.
Flavius had been unprepared for the fast, rapid fire onslaught.  As he
tried to recover, Marcellus pinned his arms behind him.  He laughed.
"Someone is about to regret ever having challenged General Marcellus."
Slowly, he moved his own legs forward, and began pushing Flavius' apart.
While Flavius had the stronger legs, he could not marshal the strength
because of the pressure on his arms.  Nor could he hide  his erection, as
his legs were pushed further and further apart.  Urban blushed in
embarrassment.  He had gone to the baths with his father occasionally,
but he had never seen this.
"Is it as big as mine, my sweet boy?"  Portius put his hand on Urban's
neck.  "My Lord, it is too far away.  I cannot tell.  "  Portius
grinned.  "You will feel my sword tonight boy.  Rest assured."

In the arena, Flavius was wincing in pain.    "I can take no more.  I
submit Marcellus.  I SUBMIT."

Demos attempted to cheer, but was pulled down by Glaucus.  "ENOUGH LAD.
 I have evening plans, but I will change them, to see to your whipping if
you do not behave."
"I apologize My Lord.  I will contain myself"

That third fall seemed to have drained all of the strength from Flavius.
He didn't even try to get out of the way when Marcellus charged him, and
he was on his back and pinned quickly.  Now, the match was even, and it
would go to whomever put his opponent to sleep.

Glaucus stood and called for a longer break for the combatants.  It would
also give the viewers a chance to increase their bets.  Portius took the
opportunity to go to a secluded space with Urban.  "You will swallow my
sword boy . NOW.  And do it quickly.  "  Urban got to work, because he
knew that Portius was an impatient man.  When he heard the man begin to
moan, he tried to pull away so that he wouldn't be forced to swallow
Portius' foul seed.  Portius, however, grabbed Urban's hair, held  his
head in place, and filled the boy with his seed.  He smiled.
"You will need more training Urban.  You are not nearly the sword
swallower Demos is."

The competitors advanced to the center of the ring.  Each seemed to know
what was at stake, for there was a tension that did not exist before.
They began.  It was almost like a slow dance, as they circled each other,
looking for advantage.

"I will not be dethroned farmer.  And I will enjoy treating you as I
treated Demos."
"And I will have the victory soldier.  You will learn of   Teuton
superiority to you dark haired cowards."

The word 'coward' set off Marcellus, and he charged.  This time,  Flavius
brought up his foot, and caught Marcellus in his torso.

"OOOF" was heard by everyone, as Marcellus went down.  Flavius took his
time, and straddled the man from behind.  He put a choke hold on the
general, and began to apply pressure to his temple.

Demos, already under threat from Glaucus, could only weep silently as he
watched his consort go to defeat.   Urban, who should have been
celebrating, was trying instead to get the  taste of Portius out of his
mouth.

As Marcellus fell to the ground, Flavius kicked his body so that he was
on his back, and again, placed his foot on his defeated opponent.

Glaucus  rose and applauded.  "We must congratulate both of our
competitors.  I daresay that this was one of , if not the, best match we
have ever had opportunity to watch. Flavius, will you take your prize?"

"With your pemission My Lord, I will take it in private, rather than
here.  Marcellus , though defeated, is a noble man.  He deserves
better."  This brought a round of new cheering from the crowd.  They knew
Flavius was a farmer.  They expected a cruder, less polished man than
they were seeing.  Urban smiled.  He had taught some of this to his
father.


"Keep in mind slave, that you may have won, but you are still  Glaucus'
slave.  Comport yourself accordingly."  Marcellus, woken, and shaken by
his defeat, showed no defiance whatsoever.   They walked back to the
estate, in proper servile position.

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Demos was inconsolable.   Sitting in between Tertius  and Linus, sobbing
into his hands. "HE LOST.  MY MARCELLUS LOST!!!!"

"Now, now, Demos, my lad,"  Tertius was speaking  "remember:  he has the
right to challenge in one moon.  If , as you think, he was overconfident,
and he is smarter than this, he will adapt.  Good soldiers always do."
"It's true, Demos,"  Linus added.  "Keep in mind that slaves are only
permitted to use their swords at certain times.  It is not an everyday
thing.  Marcellus, while alpha, was caged.  I believe I heard tale of
only one night when he was uncaged, and not at the service of Glaucus. "

"It is more than that.  It is his pride.  I worry.  When he was captured,
Marcellus was ready to die at sacrifice rather than serve another man.
They brought me in to convince him to the contrary.  I cannot do that
anymore."  Tertius and Linus looked at each other and shook their heads.
It was risky, but they were old.  They had lived full lives.  This young
man was, what?  17 suns?  18 suns?  At most, no more than 23.  His life
was in front of him.   It would be worth the risk.


As they were having this discussion,  Glaucus had Marcellus in his
quarters.

"So, Marcellus," he smiled.  "Defeated again.  This is becoming a  habit
for you," he chuckled.
"My Lord, it will not happen again."
"Perhaps.  You will have opportunity to challenge in one moon.  "
"I do not understand My Lord."
"The position of alpha slave is always perilous.  When a new alpha has
been named, the former alpha, or any other slave, has the right to
challenge after one moon.  At that time, you may call forth Flavius for a
rematch. "  A pause.  "And the challenger chooses the terms of the
match."
"So it could be a sword fight?"
"No Marcellus.  It is always wrestling.  The challenger, however, may
choose the terms of the battle, within reason of course.  For example, we
do not permit death matches.  However, to give an example of something
not used today,  there is a form of match where the competitors are  tied
to each other.  Left wrist of one, to right wrist of the other, via a
rope of about 2 spans.  It allows for very close combat, and almost
nothing else."  Another pause.  "Should you choose to challenge Flavius
in a month, I suggest that you become proficient in some form of
wrestling."
"I understand My Lord."
"Now, however, Marcellus, it is time.  I see they have already recaged
you.  I told you that you would be losing your body hair.  Please
position yourself against the post to the left."

Marcellus hesitated, and Glaucus began to clap his hands for attendant
guards.
"No My Lord, No.  That will not be necessary.  I obey."  Marcellus moved
to the post, and put his arms behind the column, as Glaucus directed.  He
felt the tight pull of Glaucus' leather thong rope   .

"What a fine specimen.  WHAT A FINE SPECIMEN.  And to see you shorn, as a
sheep on a farm.. Hah hah hah. "  He picked up the novacila.  "Be still
Marcellus.  Had you discussed this with Demos, you would know that the
tiniest slip, can lead to an unfortunate mark. "
The sharp object moved slowly, but methodically over Marcellus' chest.
He saw the hairs fall onto the broad plate of the device.

"Some Masters prefer to shave the sword area of their slaves.  They do
not worry about the risk.  That is not my way.  We will do this, and
then... under your arms, Marcellus."  He smiled and said  "Like a
woman."

At the words  "like a woman, " Marcellus began to struggle.  "Now, now,
my handsome Materan.  Remember the edge.  And you have already been
treated like a woman.  And will be again.'  Marcellus calmed down, and
Glaucus continued.  "My understanding is that Flavius' wife is a very
attractive woman.  For him to find you to his liking should be a
compliment to you."

Marcellus gritted his teeth.  "I wonder why I do not find myself
flattered."

Glaucus ignored him.  "THERE.  I will show you in the glass when we are
done.  Now..."  He untied Marcellus' wrist restraints, and secured  them
to a point about a pace above Marcellus' head.

"Again, be still."  He brought the instrument to Marcellus' arm pits, and
had them shorn quickly.

"EXCELLENT."  He untied Marcellus.  "Come, let us see our work.." He led
Marcellus to the Mica looking glass in his bedroom.  Marcellus saw a
dirty, sweaty, defeated man, shorn of his hair.  "I look like an old
whore," he spat out .  Glaucus nibbled at his ear.  "Yes, but you are MY
old whore, Marcellus.      You will now go to the baths.  I believe that
Flavius will have already had his.  Then the two of you will be brought
to me.  To his credit, Flavius decided not to take his prize in public,
lest he humiliate you.  You should show some gratitude for that this
evening.

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In fact, Flavius' bath was NOT complete.  Tertius and Linus had spoken to
the bath attendants in the bed slave quarters, and the bath was
"delayed," as water was heated.  Hence, there was no option available
other than to send Marcellus to the chamber for visitors.

"Marcellus.  Ave et vale from Linus and myself.   We have prepared your
bath and, usually, we would be at your service;  however, there is much
administration to do, so we hope you will be satisfied with our
assistant."  Linus clapped his hands, and in walked Demos.

Tertius put a finger to his lips as Marcellus started to cry out.  "We
are in violation of nearly every rule of the house.  If we are caught,
there will be four sacrifices tomorrow.  Please do not make that a
possibility."
Marcellus whispered  "I understand.  Thank you my friends."

"Shall I bathe you, Marcellus?"  Demos lowered his head.
"First you will kiss me, my love."  Marcellus put his hand under Demos'
chin, and raised his lips. "I have longed for these."
"They and I have longed for you.  They beg for your sword, My
Marcellus."  Both were caged.

"Would you join me in the bath, Demos?"
"That would be too risky, my love.  I could be summoned at any time.  ."
He smiled.  "You will have to be content with my tending to your body."
Marcellus smiled back.  "I will be. With one more kiss."

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Both Flavius and Marcellus were brought back to Glaucus' quarters after
their baths.

"One would not know that the two of you had fought a battle of such
proportions as we saw today.  Flavius, Marcellus, well fought, well
contested.  "

"I congratulate you Flavius.  I had you underestimated.  And I owe you
gratitude for your choice not to take your prize in public."

"You must thank my son for teaching me my manners, Marcellus.  I do not
have the education of a general, but I have made sure that my son will
not lack in the social graces that are necessary to survive.  " He
offered Marcellus his hand.  "you fought well.  I fought desperately.  It
could very easily have gone another way."

Marcellus smiled.  He was beginning to like this man.  "Perhaps at next
moon, it will."

"AH.  I hear the sounds of challenge.  Excellent.  But that is for
another day.  Tonight, there will be other matters.  Flavius, please
spread your legs as you stand.  I will remove your cage."

When he did, Flavius sword stood to attention.  It was short - the
Teutons were known to be endowed with girth, rather than length, and such
was the case here.   "Marcellus will show his gratitude, by providing you
with the pleasure of his lips.  BEGIN  MARCELLUS.

"Yes My Lord."  Marcellus dropped to his knees to encircle the sword of
Flavius with his lips.  Clearly, this was a form of pleasure Flavius had
never experienced.  The look on his face made it clear to Glaucus, that
it could not go on for long, if the evening were to proceed as it
should.

"I see you are enjoying this Flavius.   Ask yourself:  will you take your
prize, or will you fill his mouth with your seed?  You can only have
one."

At that Flavius pulled back.  "You are superb at giving pleasure,
Marcellus, but I will have you, as is my right."

"And I shall have you Flavius, as is mine."  Glaucus grinned.  "It is not
uncommon in Rome, albeit it is in my house, for three to share a bed.
Such will be the case tonight.  Marcellus, you will accept the sword of
Flavius, in view of today's combat.  Flavius, you will accept my sword,
as my property."

The two slaves looked at each other.  This was new to both of them.
Glaucus signaled to Marcellus  "In my bed, on your side." Marcellus
complied.    Glaucus walked over.  "Now, Flavius, I believe that this
will be your first time using your sword in another man."  Flavius
blushed.  "I will make it a bit easier for you." He wet his finger, and
probed Marcellus.  Marcellus was used to this type of invasion by now,
and opened.  He opened more as the second finger entered, and began to
moan.  Glaucus turned to Flavius.  "Undoubtedly, you have lubricated
yourself when you fucked your wife.  Do so now."   When he was wet,
Glaucus signaled him.  "It is not difficult, and I have trained Marcellus
myself.  He will take your sword."

Flavius got into the bed, and as Glaucus watched, slowly inched his sword
into Marcellus.  Trained as he was by Glaucus, who was long and thin,
Flavius' sword was a surprise.  It pained him for a minute, but he was
getting used to it, when he felt a hard push forward.  Glaucus had gotten
into bed, and he was now filling Flavius with his own sword.  The shove
from Glaucus had moved everything.

For Flavius, it was over very fast.  This was all new to him, and he was
overly excited.  When he was done, though, he embraced Marcellus from
behind, as if they were a married couple.  Glaucus smiled as he saw
this:  sex between those two could very well be interesting, and well
worth watching.  The thought of it brought him to the edge, and he filled
Flavius with his seed.

"I will give you slaves an option.  Normally, you would be sent back to
quarters now, and Flavius would have the right to take you at any time he
wished, Marcellus.  You may remain here, however, for the night.  It is
your choice.

"Here, My Lord,"  said Marcellus.  "I agree with Marcellus' choice, My
Lord."

And for the first time, in nearly ten spans of the sun, there were three
in Glaucus' bed, rather than two.