Rome, about 20 B.C.
Lucius Flavius Galerus1 had finished his prayers to the lares familiaris2 some time ago but remained kneeling in front of the lararium3. His mind was in turmoil. His wife Livia was entering the third day of her confinement, and while Lucius had been assured in no uncertain terms that all was fine and that his presence was most definitely not required anywhere in the vicinity of the women's quarters, the faces of his sisters, nieces and slaves told a different story.
Lucius was not a young man. He had been paterfamilias4 for near on three years now, ever since his own father had died an old man's death, and he was growing ever more aware of the lack of heir which would damn a fine old family such has his own to obscurity. Maybe it was the punishment the gods intended for him, he mused, that he should die without a son to his name for so flagrantly offending all the Republic stood for---though he had always been discreet.
Of course, he thought bitterly, the Roman Republic had fallen during his own life time, was in fact nothing more than an empire now, though Octavian5, acutely aware of the enemies Julius Caesar had made in his arrogance, was careful never to call himself emperor: was careful in fact to ensure that the Senate continued to think itself powerful, even if real power had been in Octavian's hands, if not for decades, then ever since the suicides of Marc Antony6 and his Greek witch7.
And it would always be Octavian---never Augustus or Caesar or divi filius8 as he had become wont to call himself---to the scion of one of the oldest patrician families of Rome. For that Lucius Flavius Galerus knew with certainty: his own family commanded the respect of Rome much more so than any sickly upstart whose position had been determined not so much by his lineage---after all, having Caesar's sister Julia as his grandmother had been its most distinguishing feature---but rather by the fact that following Caesar's murder the people of Rome had had only two choices: Octavian or Marc Antony.
Lucius smiled to himself ruefully. Of course, his own family had supported Octavian. The senate, fully aware of Octavian's age and background, had thought him pliable, much more so than Antony would have been, and had thrown its combined weight behind him. Later on, Lucius himself had sided with Octavian, in part to satisfy the larger population of Rome and in part because he had been brought up a Roman, with Roman values and Roman beliefs, even if in private he knew himself for the hypocrite he was.
Lucius' family had maintained its status as one of Rome's premier families over the centuries not only through breeding, but also by being shrewd political players. It had always been apparent, to both Lucius' father and to the young Lucius himself, that in the final analysis, Octavian, not Antony, would rule Rome---his modesty and moral severity, so different from Antony, had ensured his popularity with the citizenry. The Flavius family had a long tradition of siding with the winners of all political battles; that was how it had survived, had grown steadily more powerful over the years.
So young Lucius had fought under Agrippa9 at Actium10 on Octavian's behalf against that effeminate traitor Antony11 and his oriental whore and thus had, in a small way, contributed to the fall of the Republic and made Octavian emperor in everything but name. And somehow, while the Republic had fallen and Octavian's empire had been built, Lucius had become paterfamilias of the Flavius clan, had found himself in desperate need of an heir to the family name.
It was that desperation that had moved him to marry Livia, a girl from one of the finest old families of Rome, rather than any real desire to marry again. He was acutely aware that Livia was young enough to be his daughter twice over, but he had reasoned, and Porcia, his second wife, had agreed with him, that a young girl was more likely to produce the heir so desperately needed.
Lucius had resented having to divorce Porcia12. Porcia had been well-bred, as in fact had all his wives, and had managed his household efficiently and economically. Even more importantly, Porcia had tolerated---if not even understood---his proclivities and had been more than content to assume her role as his wife and partner with all the grace befitting a lady, even if she had not shared his bed more than a dozen times in as many years. Lucius had loved Porcia well; even if he had never desired her body.
To make matters worse, he knew with certainty that Porcia's barrenness, the reason for their eventual divorce, was not to blame on her, but rather on his own reluctance to do his conjugal duties and that, had he been more enthusiastic about the prospect of coupling, in all likelihood, Porcia would have produced the heir he required. If the people knew... of course, since he had produced a child during his first marriage, they would never assume that it had been him rather than her that had proven barren, and so her chances of re-marrying were void. Porcia must have known that as surely as he did, but still she consented, nay, urged him to divorce so he could marry Livia---all in pursuit of an heir.
He had tried to do right by Porcia: had settled her in a villa in the country with her own slaves and a generous annual allowance though he was under no obligation to do so. He had ensured that her brother, to whom guardianship of Porcia had reverted, would let her live out her life in the style she had grown accustomed to. Even so, he was still wracked by guilt for having misused a fine woman so.
His first wife, Claudia, had produced a child: but he had been young and virile then. He had acted as required in the first few months following their marriage and thankfully she had conceived quickly, saving him the embarrassment of having to continue visiting her chamber. He was almost relieved when she succumbed to the fever in childbed. Publicly, of course, he had grieved, but in private he had rejoiced that once again he could share the bed of his favored slave Lucipor13 without interference.
The gods had punished him for his arrogance though. Had taken his son, his pride and joy, from him at the tender age of two. And once again Lucius wondered, as he had for so many years now, whether his childlessness was punishment for his sins.
Lucipor had died a few summers back, had been taken with fever, as much of Rome had at the time, and Lucius had been careful not to seek out a replacement, had in fact focused his energies upon impregnating Livia who now, following a difficult pregnancy, was lying in the childbed that more than likely would constitute her deathbed. The gods must be punishing him.
His family had done everything in its power. He had made certain that his sisters had attended the festival of Bona Dea14 a few weeks previously to ensure good fortune. Only this week, in preparation for Livia's confinement, he had made generous sacrifices to the sanctuary of Diana15 on the Aventine Hill and the temple of Juno Lucina16 on the Esquiline Hill. Indeed, he had dispatched household members to sacrifice and pray to every conceivable goddess of fertility and childbirth he could think of: Nona17, Decima18, Carmenta19, Maia20, and Deverra21. All to no avail it would seem: he was destined to remain childless.
With a sigh he rose from his kneeling position and nodded to the slave keeping a respectful distance. "Any news?"
"None, Lucius," Quintus replied22.
"Very well," Lucius sighed. "Fetch my towels, oils and strigil23, and the new slave, and we shall go to the baths. The women will doubtlessly be glad to see us out of the house for a few hours."
The slave nodded his assent and hurried off to do as Lucius had bid him.
For a moment Lucius considered changing his mind. He had acquired the new slave, whom he had dubbed Cassius due to his proclaimed name being thoroughly unpronounceable, a boy whose age, he supposed, must be about seventeen, in a moment of weakness at an auction the previous month.
The auctioneer had been vague as to the boy's provenance, but Lucius judged him to be from North Africa, or the east, and judging by his demeanor he had been in slavery for some time. Whatever the case, Lucius had been startled by the boy's beauty, the toned muscles, the caramel skin, the sparkling dark eyes and raven hair, and had decided right then that he simply had to own such beauty lest it be destroyed by those less appreciative of the male form.
Even so, he had felt guilty soon after, with Livia entering the final weeks of her pregnancy, and had resisted the urge to take the boy to bed. Now, certain that neither Livia nor his unborn child would live to see another sunrise, he felt no such scruples. If the gods saw fit to punish him, he might as well ensure that there was ample misbehavior to be punished, and it had been far too long since...
Lucius was startled out of his thoughts by the arrival of Quintus and Cassius and they set off for the baths.
Lucius ignored the vendors and prostitutes offering their wares at the entrance to the bath and quickly made his way to the apodyterium24, where he disrobed and instructed Quintus to remain and keep a watchful eye on his belongings, lest they be stolen by the many thieves that frequented the place.
"And the boy?" Quintus asked.
"The boy shall come with me and carry my towels and strigil," Lucius said quickly---perhaps too quickly, because, though Quintus hid it well, he thought he saw the ghost of a smile flicker across Quintus' weathered features.
"Very well Lucius," Quintus replied, thrusting towels, oils and strigil into Cassius' outstretched arms. "I shall be awaiting your return."
Lucius nodded curtly and walked to the palaestra25, not pausing along the way. Once there he turned to Cassius and asked: "Have you wrestled before, Cassius?"
Cassius nodded, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"I should like to wrestle with you, Cassius," Lucius said.
A flicker of worry crossed Cassius' handsome features. "But Lucius, it is not seemly for a slave to wrestle with his master," he protested.
Lucius smiled knowingly. "In time you will learn, Cassius, that Rome is willing to forgive quite a lot of unseemly behavior from its first families, just as long as that unseemly behavior is done discreetly," he explained gently. "Would you wrestle with me?"
"As you wish," Cassius murmured not at all convinced.
They wrestled for a few minutes, enough to work up a bit of a sheen, though Lucius could feel Cassius' discomfort. As soon as practical, therefore, he decided to save the boy further embarrassment and started walking towards the entrance to the tepidarium26, once again ignoring the hustle and bustle and sausage vendors around him.
In the tepidarium, Cassius at once started covering Lucius' body in oil and it took considerable willpower on Lucius' behalf not to grow aroused by the boy's sure hands upon his body. He managed in spite of himself: fully aware of his station and what it would mean to make a spectacle of himself in full view of citizens, slaves and freedmen alike. He could wait: he had been waiting so long now, a few more minutes would do no harm.
Soon Cassius started strigiling27 his body with strong strokes. Cassius was young, barely out of childhood, but already he had great strength, if his vigor in scraping the oil off of Lucius' body was any indication. Lucius almost sighed in anticipation, but bit down on his lip at the last moment: discretion, the first duty of a Roman citizen was always discretion28. Still, he could not help thinking about those strong arms around him, those strong hand holding him down, restraining him, while the boy's cock...
He shuddered and opened his eyes to look around the tepidarium to distract himself. In a corner an old man was making a fool of himself, rambling words that might once have formed couplets but only formed disarrayed sentences now. Lucius thought the man looked vaguely familiar and upon some consideration recognized him for a poet who had been the toast of Rome some twenty years before. How the mighty had fallen, not least of all Caesar.
Cassius had stopped strigiling a few seconds ago and was now saying something in that demure voice of his.
"Pardon?" Lucius asked.
"I asked whether you were ready to pass through to the caldarium29 or whether you wished to employ the services of one of the masseurs first," Cassius asked a little more clearly.
"No, the caldarium should do nicely, I think," Lucius replied and started walking, sure in the knowledge that Cassius would follow behind him.
He settled into the hot pool of the caldarium, reasonably close to the labrum30 and instructed Cassius to splash cold water to his face and chest at regular intervals.
The room was fairly steamy, but not nearly steamy enough to avoid prying eyes. After what seemed like the least amount of time he could spend in the caldarium without drawing undue attention, he rose from the water and said to Cassius, "I think I should like you to accompany me to the steam room."
Cassius merely nodded and picked up Lucius' bathing supplies to follow him.
Once there, comfortably settled on a bench in the far corner of the dark room and almost completely concealed by the steam and the darkness, Lucius divested himself of his subligaculum31 and reached out a hand to pull Cassius closer. Cassius startled, his muscles tightening underneath Lucius' hand, but did not resist. Yes, Cassius had been a slave for a while32, Lucius thought to himself.
He tugged at Cassius' arms and legs until the boy was reluctantly settled astride his own legs facing him and then quickly took off the boy's subligaculum before wrapping one arm around the boy's waist while stroking down the boy's fine shoulders with his other hand.
"You are so beautiful," he sighed softly, feeling the muscles ripple underneath his hands. "From the moment I saw you at the auction, I knew I had to own such beauty."
Cassius didn't respond, but shivered under his touch, even with the stifling heat of the room, and spread his legs wider.
For a moment Lucius missed Lucipor more than anything in the world. His beautiful lover who had grown even more beautiful with advancing age, who had returned his affections and never once considered himself anything but an equal while in the privacy of Lucius' bedchamber... Lucius had offered him his freedom many times over the years, but he had always declined because his freedom would have made their coupling a crime punishable by death and Lucipor was not prepared to risk Lucius' life33.
Cassius, while beautiful, was a slave. Oh, he would couple with Lucius, if Lucius so wished, but he would do so because he was a slave, not because he wanted to and certainly not because he loved Lucius as Lucipor had loved him. Lucius did not want Cassius' resignation, his willingness to endure his fate without protest, rather, he wanted Cassius to want him as much as he desired Cassius, even if it was foolish to do so. Lucius resolved there and then that he would earn, if not Cassius' love, then at least his affection.
He moved his hand down Cassius' shoulder, across his belly and to his groin. Cassius was unresponsive but spread his legs a little wider under Lucius' wandering touch. After stroking across the unerect cock a few times, Lucius let his fingers wander across the boy's balls, which earned him a shudder, and further back to the boy's hole.
Cassius whimpered almost inaudibly but did not resist.
Lucius removed his hand to grapple for the oil he knew must be sitting somewhere beside him on the bench and carefully coated his fingers in oil before slipping them back between Cassius' legs. The boy's legs quivered as he brushed his oil-slicked fingers across the entrance to Cassius' body. He felt the muscles twitching under his hand---Cassius was trying to relax the muscle for a minimum of discomfort. Lucius hazarded slipping a finger into the boy's hole and found the muscle pliant and stretched---the boy had been taken before, frequently.
Of course it wouldn't be the first time, he thought bitterly. Such a beautiful boy. It stood to reason that a previous owner had seen him for what he was and had used him accordingly---and not at all gently judging by the small, barely audible sobs emanating from the boy's throat.
Lucius quickly removed his probing finger and then Cassius' entire body twitched and tightened in anticipation of the invasion that was sure to follow. Instead, Lucius pulled the boy's face down to his and kissed him gently. "I will not hurt you, Cassius," he whispered. "I only want to share pleasure with you."
He felt his way back to the flask of oil sitting on the bench and dribbled a generous amount into the palm of his hand. Then he took hold of Cassius' soft cock and started stroking.
Cassius startled. In all likelihood, nobody had ever touched his cock like that before, Lucius realized. The other men that had taken Cassius would have done so from behind, careful not to touch that part of him, would have been careful, in fact, to completely ignore its existence. They would have thrown him down on all fours like they would a woman and taken him like a woman too: Cassius was there to serve them after all, to provide them with whatever pleasure he could.
Cassius must have felt pleasure with Lucius' hand on his cock though, because very soon it started to fill with blood, growing larger and thicker under Lucius' sure strokes. No doubt Cassius was starting to think that being taken by Lucius would not be as bad as he had imagined. When Lucius leant forward, trying to raise his head closer to Cassius', Cassius lowered his head slightly and offered Lucius his lips.
Lucius kissed enthusiastically, thrusting his tongue into Cassius' mouth and making Cassius' dick twitch in Lucius' hand. It seemed Cassius had never been kissed like that before either and he appeared to lose himself in the sensation. A few minutes later, his arms were resting on Lucius' shoulders, his hands tangled in Lucius' hair and he tried to edge closer to Lucius, tried to rub his engorged cock against Lucius'.
Lucius' hand let go of Cassius' cock momentarily, coming back seconds later to slather more oil onto it. Then Lucius took hold of Cassius' right hand and gently stroked his fingers, leaving them covered in a thin layer of oil. He grasped Cassius' wrist and had guided Cassius' hand almost all the way between their tangled legs before Cassius realized his intent and recoiled, forcefully pulling back his hand.
"Lucius, no!" He cried hoarsely. "You are paterfamilias you must not let me touch you there."34
"Shhhhh," Lucius hissed. "You must be quiet Cassius. I want you to touch me, please!"
"But... but you are a man," Cassius whispered quietly, the confusion evident in his voice.
"So are you," Lucius replied gently stroking Cassius' cock.
"I am your slave," Cassius mumbled. "If it is your wish to copulate with me, it is your right to do so."
"I wish for you to fuck me, Cassius," Lucius said calmly, nipping at Cassius' throat.
"Please, Lucius, I cannot...," Cassius was stammering wildly. "You are a man, you must not even contemplate... it would not be acceptable..."
Lucius smiled in the darkness. No matter how much Cassius was protesting now, for propriety's sake, for the sake of the Republic and the empire and all that made Roman men men, his cock had twitched erratically at Lucius' request, painting a trail of precome across Lucius' belly. He took firm hold of Cassius' shaking hand and guided it to the entrance to his own body.
"Please, Lucius, I beg you, please take me instead," Cassius murmured close to tears again.
"Shhhhh," Lucius sighed. "Just your fingers, Cassius, I am just asking you to touch me, nothing more."
Even so, the boy's hand did not come easily. He had to hold it tightly against his body, brush the curled fingers across his own hole, the sensation causing him to whimper softly into Cassius' chest. Once again, Cassius tried to pull back as though attacked by wasps.
"Please, Lucius, I'm hurting you," he sobbed.
"I was sighing in pleasure, not pain, Cassius," Lucius replied softly, trying to calm the boy.
He tugged at Cassius' hand again, brought it back into position, and took hold of one of the curled fingers, trying to straighten it. The boy was still resisting; not actively and not so he could be accused of disobedience, but enough for Lucius to grow impatient and consider ordering the boy to do as he was told. Except, coercing the boy would not accomplish much except cause resentment and he had already decided he wanted the boy's affection, wanted him to share his bed not because he was ordered to do so, but because he wanted to do so.
Lucius sighed and let go of Cassius' hand. He had guessed that the boy had never been touched for pleasure, only used, and not well, if his reactions were anything to go by. Cassius had been genuinely surprised when Lucius had started stroking his cock to hardness, perhaps it was time that Lucius introduced him to some of the other pleasures that could be had with an experienced and responsive lover: it might make him less reluctant to do as Lucius wished.
He splashed some more oil across his fingers, stroked Cassius' cock a few times and whispered, "just remember, I am not trying to hurt you." Then he slipped his hand past Cassius' balls again and to his hole, stroking across it quickly, once, twice, thrice, before carefully inserting one finger into Cassius' body. Cassius tensed, but this time he did not make a sound.
He thrust his finger in and out slowly a few times, searching for... Cassius let out a surprised yelp. Ah yes, there it was. He started brushing across the spot in earnest, working first a second then a third finger into Cassius' body which was draping itself around his own as Cassius gave off little moans and sighs. When Lucius felt Cassius' ball-sack hardening underneath his wrist he withdrew his fingers.
"Please don't stop," Cassius whimpered.
"I had to Cassius, otherwise you would have spent yourself, and I had much rather you spend yourself inside my body," he murmured.
"But... but it's unnatural for a man to..." Cassius protested feebly.
"But it feels exactly like what you were feeling just now," Lucius replied, smiling against Cassius' chest. "Would you maliciously withhold such pleasure from me?"
Cassius shock his head energetically but did not say anything.
Lucius nudged him until he slid off of Lucius' lap and then he turned around, kneeling on the bench and bracing his arms against the wall. "Nobody will see, Cassius. It is dark and there is much steam. Nobody will know except us."
"I... Lucius, I can't..." Cassius sobbed.
Lucius drew a deep breath, there was no help for it. "Cassius, as your master I order you to do as I say," he said clearly, though quietly to protect himself against any eavesdroppers in the vicinity.
Then he waited.
He was waiting so long he thought that perhaps Cassius had absconded from the room and that he would have to send out one of the bath slaves to find the boy, when a shaking hand settled on his rear. Ahh. Good. Infinitely slowly, the hand stroked across his flesh and down towards his hole. Questing fingers found his quivering flesh and brushed across it a few times, then they disappeared again only to come back a few seconds later covered in more oil.
He sighed in contentment as a finger thrust oil into his waiting body. "Now Cassius!" He hissed.
Then he felt the tip of the boys cock touching his hole and rather than wait for Cassius to gather enough courage, he thrust back in one fluid movement and impaled himself upon the throbbing cock. Too long. It had been far too long since he had felt so complete. He started rocking back and forth on Cassius' cock with an urgency he hadn't known he possessed and after a few seconds, nature took it course and Cassius started thrusting back.
Cassius' hands found his hips and held on while Cassius' cock started fucking him in earnest. He swiveled his hips until the head of Cassius' cock was brushing against the spot that gave so much pleasure and he let out a sigh.
"Yes, harder, please!" He rasped.
Cassius complied, thrusting harder and wilder, his balls slapping against Lucius' thighs with abandon, his cock making Lucius shake with pleasure. All too soon, Cassius' thrusts grew erratic and Lucius himself could feel the tingles of pleasure starting somewhere around the base of his spine. With a soft cry he spent himself, coming all over the bench, and Cassius followed seconds later, his cock pulsing wildly inside Lucius' body.
Cassius collapsed across Lucius' back and remained there, breathing heavily, for a few minutes until his softening cock started slipping out of Lucius' hole. Then he quickly withdrew, took one of Lucius' towels and started cleaning the come off of Lucius.
"Did that please you Lucius?" He asked quietly.
"More than you could possibly know," Lucius sighed, sitting up on the bench. "What about you?"
"I am glad I could please you," Cassius answered softly.
"But did it give you pleasure to take me?" Lucius asked insistently.
"I... I would not be averse..." the boy stuttered, "I mean, should you want..." his voice trailed off into embarrassed silence.
"I should want you to sleep in my bedchamber from now on, Cassius," Lucius said gently. "There is much pleasure I have yet to teach you."
"I... Thank you, Lucius," Cassius replied.
Lucius smiled in the dark. "Also, I wonder whether you would prefer a different name," he said quietly. "I would like nothing better than for you to be known as Lucipor from now on."
"If you so desire," Cassius consented, then shyly he added, "may I ask... would you tell me what it means?"
"It means you belong to me, that you are mine," Lucius explained. Then, louder, he intoned, "I believe it is time for a quick trip to the frigidarium35 and then home, Lucipor."
Lucipor quickly gathered their belongings and then followed Lucius into the frigidarium where Lucius had a quick dip in the cold pool, just enough to wash away any remnants of oil and sweat and come. Then he made his way back to the apodyterium, Lucipor following closely behind.
As they entered the room Lucius saw Quintus excitedly talking to another slave from his household. He quickly walked to where they were standing and raised a questioning eyebrow at Quintus.
"Oh Lucius! I am so glad you are here!" Quintus exclaimed excitedly. "Paetas was sent to bring us the happy news: Livia was delivered of a fine son not an hour ago. Both mother and child are well. Lucius, you have an heir."
If you like GioGio's writing, check out her mainstream(ish) literary novel, which is available from the publisher or online retailers/bookstores.