Gil

Phaedo happily also ate a grape and Lexus watched him – he seemed to truly enjoy tasting the grape and Lexus was glad he bought them. But they also needed to find something to drink and this time Phaedo led the way to find a taberna and soon they were inside. There were many people here too, but Phaedo managed to order a jug of wine and he noted how the other didn’t want water. So he wanted to get drunk too. Lexus had seen drunk people many times and he was no stranger to wine, but he never drank so much that he felt it the next day… not before, anyway. But this was Saturnalia and he wanted to have all the fun together with Phaedo.

Soon Phaedo got the jug of wine and handed it to Lexus – who took it and downed a good gulp. Gods this was not good wine, but he could not expect it on a night like this, where everyone wanted wine and you’d have to pay more to get the better wine. When he removed the jug from his mouth, he noticed Phaedo looking at something and grinning and he looked over his shoulder. Two young women were watching them and they smiled and one of them now even waved. Lexus handed the jug to Phaedo.

“Do you think… they want to talk to us? You’re probably much better at this than I am…” He said and took another grape to eat, he still had the grapes and the little piece of bread in the other hand, “Do you know them?” He then asked – you never knew, right? 

Phaedo

In a way, it was very like the day where they had so serendipitously met. The throngs of people moved this way and that, like waves on a restless sea. Phaedo and Lexus were jostled and pushed, but this time, they kept tight hold of each other’s hands, and so were not separated. Pheado glanced back over his shoulder with a grin and nodded, agreeing in a loud, happy voice, ”It’s madness!” Saturnalia was an even bigger celebration than the Vinalia Urbana. The whole of Rome, it seemed, had ventured out into the evening dark, to take parts in the celebration. The two young men made their way along the alleys, to the forum, and there indeed was a mighty ocean of humanity, all pressed in together to see what was to be seen. Phaedo had to really slip and squeeze his way forward. But still he kept a hold of Lexus and towed him along, until they came to the front edge of one segment of the crowd.

Before them was simply a cleared space, no real stage for the performance that was going on. It was a play, of sorts, where the actors, in pantomime costumes, re-enacted the theme of the festival, wherein master turned slave and vice versa. Of course, it was an easily detected, extremely ribald satire of the late emperor Caludius, easily distinguished by his halting gait and speech. He was a god, now, and as such, it might have been imprudent for the players to make mock of him thus. But it was Saturnalia, and rules relaxed during this time. So the players did their piece boldly, and the audience roared with laughter. Phaedo thought his own sides would split, and as the piece drew to a close, he pulled one small coin from his purse and handed it to the player who held out a bowl for such tokens of appreciation. The man did not look impressed at such a small token, but Phaedo was already turned to speak to Lexus.

”I’m starved! Let’s see what they have to eat.” He felt very nice and well dressed in his new tunica and he’d be careful not to get it sullied. Thinking of the gift prompted him to ask, ”Is your mother coming out tonight?” If she wasn’t, he thought he might be able to afford to buy some small sweet cake for her, that Lexus could take home, as small thanks for the tunic. But of course, they could see to that later. They had hours to go before either of them would think of turning for home.

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

The little dolphin was a modest gift. But Lexus seemed pleased with it, and this made Phaedo’s smile even brighter. He was glad the other boy was so pleasant and had good manners. Phaedo was a slave, and certainly didn’t expect the same from every person he encountered. Actually, most people made him quite aware that he was low man on the ladder in this world they lived in, and treated him accordingly. But Lexus seemed never to take that into account, in their interactions. He never lorded it over Phaedo or made him feel any lesser of a human being. And for that Phaedo loved him – not the love of romantic partners, but more like…a brother, or a friend. That was surely true. They were good friends, and, like Lexus, Phaedo looked upon the younger lad as his best friend, along with Helios, who was almost like an older brother. They were something like the two brothers he’d not had ever since he’d been ripped away from his family – although Phaedo didn’t really think of it in those terms.

”You must thank your mother for me, when you get home, alright? And then I will thank her myself when next I see her,” he assured. He didn’t go to Lexus’ home very often but occasionally he would accompany the boy, or go to meet him, there. Then Phaedo nodded and said with excitement, ”There will be revels at the forum. Let’s go there, to start. I know they’ll be putting on some of those rude plays.” He grinned. Phaedo may have had a great passion for good theater. But like all Romans, he also loved satire and the lewd performances that made fun of current events and popular, or unpopular, public figures, as well as comedic parodies of traditional works and stories.

”And I even have a few coins for food!” he exclaimed. ”A gift from a customer. He said it was for me, because I was skilled, and he was appreciative.” The prostitute said it without embarrassment or any thought that Lexus would have any negative thoughts about him, or the money. He was who he was, not by choice, and there was nothing to be done about it. Lexus had been around the Venus many, many times now and he saw what that life was like. It was simply a part of the fabric of society, brothels and whores, both supported by men’s needs to satisfy their sexual desires. It was just a fact of life. That the little dolphin figurine had been procured using the same source of funds went without saying. Beyond the newly gifted tunic, anything Phaedo had, came from the hands of the men he had sex with, or the madam of the brothel, as simple upkeep of one of her business assets.

”Come,” he said, reaching for Lexus’ hand and dragging him out into the night. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

Phaedo's eyes widened in delight, and some surprise. Although honestly, he had sort of expected some little gift, some gesture of the season, from his young friend – for Lexus was that kind of person – the type to be thoughtful and generous. Just as Phaedo had managed somehow to find the means of a small token of their growing friendship, he had half-suspected that Lexus would as well. But taking the parcel from the other boy, he looked more surprised, as he’d been expecting, if anything, something… smaller. His eyes went from the packet to Lexus and then back to the packet, and then he began to remove the plain cloth that bound whatever was inside, saying, ”You brought me a gift? You are so…”

He’d been meaning to say thoughtful, but he paused so long that he lost the word entirely. With the outer wrapping gone, tucked safe under his arm, he let the repurposed tunica unfold and fall out to its full length, holding it up in front of him to gaze at it. His lips parted, in true surprise, and his face suffused with a blush of pleasure. He forced his eyes from the handsome garment, and looked at Lexus with unabashed happiness.

”It’s beautiful! Truly beautiful! Did your mother make this? Oh…Lexus…thank you!”

He reached to give his friend another warm hug and clutched the tunica to his chest. It really was a nice one. The boy’s mother had some skill, certainly. It might have been expected that Phaedo had worn much grander things, as the body slave of a rich senator. But for the most part, he had either been dressed simply or gone about wholly naked, as his master, or mistress, preferred. And besides, the clothes he’d had before had been really as much the property of his master as he had been himself. He’d not really owned anything himself, being a lowly slave. But this…this gift was different. It was his, given out of friendship. That made it incredibly precious.

”I will wear it, today!” he exclaimed, and without pause, he handed the new tunica to Lexus, so that he could pull the one he was wearing over his head straightway. He folded it carefully, bent to set it on his straw stuffed pallet, and then reclaimed the new one. That he pulled on, looking down to admire its bright color. ”How do I look?” he asked, grinning ear to ear.

Once they’d exclaimed over the newly remade garment, and Phaedo had repeated his thanks, including a directive to Lexus that he must thank his mother as well, he bent once more to retrieve his own simple gift for his friend. It wasn’t wrapped. But he handed the little figurine to Lexus with a smile. “And here is my gift to you. This will bring you good luck!” he said, with all sincerity. It was a small dolphin, crude in its execution perhaps, but clearly identifiable as such. As in many cultures, the dolphin, being a whimsical creature that had some special affinity for humans, was seen by the Romans as a sign of good luck.

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

Time in the brothel had passed, and so had the seasons changed, from spring to summer and from summer to fall. Now the days were drawing to their shortest, and already the festival of winter was upon them. Saturnalia – Phaedo could recall with perfect clarity how it had been celebrated in years past. They weren’t particularly fond memories. His physician had not been uproarious about it and had focused more on the theological aspects of the god Saturn. Phaedo’s immediately past master, and mistress, though, had of course used the occasion to satisfy carnal desires with him. In fact, this was how it had all started – his master finding the pleasure to be had by being treated like a slave, assuming that role as no good Roman citizen should, and then deciding it should continue past that first winter when things had gone that far between them. It had led, in a circuitous way, to Phaedo being sold, and winding up a prostitute. So, in that respect, the festival season had not brought him good fortune.

But that seemed long ago now and nothing to be done about it. The past could never be undone, so there was little use in mooning over it. Besides, his life was not so very much worse at the Venus than it had been at his former home. It was less luxurious. He had multiple men to service instead of just the one – and his wife. Phaedo did well and truly miss his Greek master. But at least the mistress of the Venus had allowed him some scrolls to borrow and refresh his memory with, and occasionally he would recite for the customers, in the downstairs common areas where the whores entertained them before they made a selection and were lead off for sexual pleasures.

He was never too sure how many of the men (and it was mostly men who came to the brothel – he’d not once yet been given to a female client) really listened to his recitations, or enjoyed them, or appreciated them. Still, he enjoyed the chance to recite anyway. And it gave him the opportunity to better instruct his young pupil, Lexus. Not that the boy was allowed in the brothel to mingle with the customers, or sit with them in that part of the building, while the prostitutes did their typically lewd and bawdy enticements and teasing. No, that would have been totally inappropriate, and Lexus’ mother would never have allowed such!

Phaedo reserved his teachings to slower parts of the day, when his mistress would allow a few hours of leisure, and the customers weren’t as rowdy as they often could be later in the evening and nighttime. Lexus was proving to be a smart student, and Phaedo was enjoying teaching him immensely. It gave him the nostalgic feelings of when his Greek physician tutored him, as a young boy. And it brought to life, for him, all those amazing works of literature that he so loved, as they read them, discussed them, and sometimes did recitations out loud. It was fun. It was a good distraction from being just a whore. And he really enjoyed Lexus’ company. A real friendship had sprung up between the two, and whenever days intervened where one or the other of them was too busy to come together, Phaedo truly missed his companionship. It was cliché to say it, but Phaedo really looked upon Lexus as a bright ray of sunshine in his otherwise hum drum and dull existence.

But today would not be such a day of missing his friend, for they’d already made arrangements to meet. This would be a day of fun and frolic, of festival and foolishness, and for once, Phaedo was really looking forwards to it! He’d somehow scrounged up a few coins, and a day or so before purchased a small gift for his friend. It was simple – just a wax figurine, of the type many people gave on this day. When the knock came on the wall beside the opening to his room, which was covered only by a curtain, Phaedo looked up from where he lay on his pallet – the only furnishing in the room, beside an unlit oil lamp. With a grin, he rose and moved to the opening, pulling the curtain aside and reaching to greet Lexus with a warm smile and a friendly hug.

”Salve! And blessings upon you, and your mother!” he said happily, his face alight with pleasure. ”Are you ready to have some fun?” he asked, his smile becoming a huge grin. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

It was gold and it was Helios, and Calvunus smiled broadly and stepped close to the handsome whore. ”I wouldn’t be so sure I’m not frozen. Here.” he took Helios’ hand and teasingly pulled it to his crotch. ”Hard as stone, right?” He laughed good naturedly. It was his way, always joking around like this. Helios would as likely come back with some quip, or swat at him. Calvunus enjoyed such give and take and Helios seemed mostly to be a good sport about it. There’d even been times when such playful exchanges had lead to something equally pleasant. But Calvunus was at least mindful, if not exactly respectful, that Helios was a business asset, one he was paid to watch over, and not to fuck. Still, it hadn’t stopped him completely from straying down that path, occasionally.

He smirked as the two began to walk. Calvunus was entirely happy to be on the move, and looking forward to getting back to warmth, be that the warmth of a brazier or the warmth of a supple body next to his. With a smile he asked, ”Were you good to him? I hope she charged an outrageous sum. If my balls turn black and fall off from the frost, I’m sending that fucker the bill.”

Helios

Calvunus swore under his breath, which came out in a puff of vapor from between his cold lips. Hands tucked under his armpits, he walked back and forth in front of the plain but sturdy looking gate of the domus. It was dark, as well as cold, here by the long wall that ran away into the night. The lazy slaves of the household had long since damped the oil lamps set in the wall. Their master would not be abroad again, especially after sating himself with the pleasures offered by the fair Helios. But as for the salve himself, well, Calvunus was sure the slaves that belonged to the man who was renting out his services didn’t particularly care if he was robbed and murdered on his way back to the hole he’d crawled out of, i.e. the brothel where he worked and lived. That sounded about right. There were few who cared much about the fate of a slave. Well, one such was Helios’ owner, the woman who ran the Venus, and she wasn’t about to have one of her better whores set upon in the night – again.

Already once before, Helios and another, who had since been sold off, had suffered an attack on their way to service a customer. The domina had decided, never again, and now she made sure that if one of her good workers was going to be out after dark, appropriate measures would be taken to ensure her business assets came to no harm. It wasn’t an every day occurrence that one of the sex workers went to a customer’s home. Most business was transacted right there at the brothel. But it did happen, and so on this night, Calvunus had been the unlucky one to pull the duty of walking Helios home, playing bodyguard to a slave. He didn’t really mind. Except the night was cold and he’d been warm and happy back at the Venus. It didn’t matter. What had to be done, had to be done, so here he was, cooling his heels, literally, waiting for Helios to emerge. The time was only approximate. Calvunus could only guess when Helios might be ready to leave. He’d been waiting already the better part of an hour, which was one reason why he was so cold.

He pulled his cloak about his shoulders and cupped his hands together, breathing into them. A sound came to him and he looked up hopefully. If he saw that golden head, he didn’t know whether he’d curse it for being the reason he was out in the frosty weather, or kiss it, just to know they could finally be on their way back. 

Helios

The person who actually greeted them was a woman. This wasn’t at all surprising, for when Hyacinthus looked discretely around, the elderly man who was the only other non-servant in the room looked as infirm as his own master. Perhaps the woman was his wife? She introduced herself, but the Roman customs did not dictate that a woman must change her name to that of her husband. She could have just as easily been his daughter, or even some other female relative, or a fiancée. Well, it was none of his business. He moved with practiced skill to help his master settle, while the female slave who had accompanied them did the same for their mistress. Hyacinthus moved to take up a position behind his master, in order to stand ready to serve him throughout the meal, when the woman, Oriana, put an unexpected question to his master.

Hyacinthus’s eyebrows lifted. He looked at the back of his master’s head, but did not speak. Neither did his master actually, for he seemed to be having an attack of gas or reflux. His mistress replied instead, shooing the boy off, her eyes sharpening like an eagle on the hunt as she looked across the table at the other old wreck of a man, a syrupy smile on her rouged lips. Perhaps she was glad to see the other, much younger woman leaving. Or perhaps she felt like her own husband would pay more attention to the business at hand if the distraction of the handsome slave was gone for a bit.

Hyacinthus acknowledged his mistress’ command with a nod of his head, and then he raised his eyes to look at the woman for a moment. ”I do know where the boundary is drawn, mistress,” he said politely. ”If that is your desire, I would be pleased to show you.”

The woman seemed content with this and they moved off. Normally Hyacinthus would not presume to walk in front of such a lady. But as he was showing her the boundary, he felt it would be ridiculous to walk behind her. Once out of the villa, he took up a position by her shoulder, a couple of feet to her side. ”It’s this way mistress,” he said, pointing. 

Oriana Laecania

*note: at this point in time, Phaedo was called Hyacinthus

They hadn’t far to travel. In fact, it was hardly a hop, skip and a jump to reach the home that stood on the land adjacent to his master’s. His dominus and domina lived for the most part in Rome, enjoying the city’s vibrancy, even if the old man was now old enough that the pleasures of his youth were almost all but gone. His age and infirmity provided more reasons to not make the trek out into the countryside, to this place, site of one of his many estates. Indeed, it might prove to be the last, should his health continue to decline. But he was a pig headed man and once he had this idea, he could not be dissuaded. Hyacinthus wasn’t completely clear what all the fuss was about. He knew it had something to do with a boundary dispute with the neighbor – this Aulus Ordovian Laencanius, whose home they were even now approaching. No, it wasn’t a long journey at all, but you might have thought they were heading to the cold reaches of far Germanica.

The mistress had fussed and hovered, as the other slaves had prepared a litter. That in itself was already a sign that the old man was fast approaching his dotage. A real Roman male walked, or rode a horse. But the litter was replete with cushions and wraps, even a dish of candied plums, regardless that the trip would only take a half hour or so, and that walking at a snail’s pace so as not to jostle the old geezer. The curtains were down, to protect from drafts, and Hyacinthus was free to look about as they crawled along. The countryside was pleasant, although unfamiliar. As his master preferred the young slave to be always ay hand, he too rarely left the city. The air smelled so much cleaner, and the greens of the gently rolling countryside were soft on the eyes. He smiled to himself as he strolled along.

In due course, they reached the villa of the Laencanii and there was a second round of fluttering and bustling as his master was helped to extricate him from the litter. He was a short, obese man, quite run to seed, with a florid complexion. The broken blood vessels that traced over his red nose like spider webs gave testament to his love of wine and beer. He was sober, at this point, though, and ready to go toe to toe with his neighbor, or so he fancied. In reality, he was all bark and had the bite of a toothless old hound. He and his wife, and Hyacinthus and the slave who would wait on the domina were ushered inside and shown to the dining room. The rest of their retinue would wait outside, and the young male slave could not be blamed for envying those of his comrades who would be at relative ease and leisure for a few hours.

He walked behind his master, by a few paces, eyes down but still able to take in their surroundings. The house slave announced them, formally, and moved aside and Hyacinthus let his eyes peep up to see who else had been called to partake in this dinner that was both social and business in nature. 

Oriana Laecania

Phaedo’s expression reflected the enthusiasm he heard in Lexus’ tone. And at the mention of being friends, he smiled warmly, and eagerly said, ”Oh I’d like to be your friend, Lexus! Very much. If your mother would allow it. I suppose it wouldn’t be so wrong not to tell her…the complete truth.” He felt a bit guilty, to deceive the woman so. But he didn’t feel ashamed, of what he was. The gods had ordained his fate. He could no more escape it than all the protagonists of the plays he loved so dearly. In Roman society, each man, woman, and child had his or her place. Lexus’ own parents had been slaves once. So his mother would understand, that the fact that Phaedo was a slave, a prostitute, and worked at a brothel was not due to any character flaw or choice on his own part. It was simply his lot, and it could, possibly (if not probably) change, one day.

”I don’t think she would mind,” he replied, referring to the owner of the Venus. ”As long as we keep our time together to those hours when I’m not…working.” That was a practical way to put it.

”If you let me accompany you to your home, today, then I’ll know where you live. And when I have a few hours of freedom, I can come find you, and bring you here. For your studies. Or we can even explore the city together, if you like. I can teach you more of the alleyways and how to get about. We could visit the temples together.” 

Phaedo was picking up speed, as his imaginary explorations with Lexus loomed large in his head. He paused, and laughed. ”Sorry. It just sounds so fun.” He let his eyes linger on Lexus’ for a moment. ”I’ve never had a friend to do things like that with,” he said, more wistfully. ”Perhaps Venus threw me at your feet for that purpose, even though I never did get to her temple today. I’ll have to go again soon and offer her my thanks.”

With the thought of the circumstances of their meeting popping into his head, Phaedo looked down at his knees. "I suppose I should wash the dirt and blood away. It's not attractive, is it?" He asked rhetorically, with a grin.
Lexus Naevius Gineverus

Like Lexus, Phaedo was happy to just sit and had a conversation, without any expectations, or knowing that the person on the other end was only killing time idly before he got what he really wanted out of the prostitute. Lexus seemed like a very pleasant youth, and Phaedo found it of particular interest that he had some tutoring. He wondered what subjects Lexus had found to his liking. But he didn’t interrupt, and the boy went on to explain that his father had been a gladiator. Phaedo’s eyebrows shot up at this. He’d never seen the blood sports at the arena. That was something neither of his two masters had any interest in. The Greek had said it was barbaric and only proved that the Romans had not as much civilization as they liked to think.

Phaedo was also intrigued to know Lexus’ parents had both been slaves who had each in turn been freed. It was perhaps the dream of every slave. But for Phaedo it was not a very reasonable thing to dream about. Some at the brothel felt they would one day be able to buy their freedom. He never believed that about himself though. He had nothing, absolutely nothing. 

When the boy paused, Phaedo nodded sympathetically. ”That makes it hard, then, not even knowing what name to use when asking after him.” He reached out to pat Lexus’ arm. ”Perhaps the gods may bring you together, one day,” he said with a smile. 

He hesitated and then said shyly, ”I am educated. The Greek physician who brought me from Delphos tutored me in many subjects.” His face became animated as he spoke of the things he loved. ”I am literate and numerate, and I especially love literature, poetry, drama. I…” He hesitated again but then pressed on despite how silly the words sounded in his own ears, as he spoke them.

”I don’t know if your mother would…would allow it. But…if she would let you come here, from time to time, I could share some of what I know with you. I mean…I would share all of it…if we had the time. I would have to ask my mistress of course. She might not agree.” He looked a little sad at that prospect. Lexus’ mother too might not wish for him to be coming to a brothel on any sort of regular basis.

Phaedo tried to be optimistic though. ”I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask, right? That is…if you’d have any interest. My mistress has recently procured for me some scrolls, of…poetry.” Some of it was quite…raunchy. But others were not so bad, and suitable for use to instruct a young man. ”We could start with those,” he said, hoping that somehow, it would fall into place that he could share what he loved so much with another. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

Phaedo nodded to the answer given. He was familiar enough with the city to believe that he could give Lexus guidance to find his way home to his mother. Although as he refreshed himself with a deeper sip of the wine, it occurred to him that a boy who was unused to the narrow twisting alleyways might still become confused. A wrong turning, or two, might see Lexus getting good and lost. Phaedo knew, as he contemplated this, that he couldn’t just let Lexus leave, unaccompanied. He had time yet. He was sure that, whenever Lexus was ready to depart, he could go with him, just to see him safe home, and then be back before any trouble came his way for being absent. After all, they’d been given liberty to join in the celebrations. It wasn’t his fault that the crowds had really prevented him from doing so.

Then Lexus asked him about himself and Phaedo shook his head. ”No. I was born a world away, in Dacia. I don’t remember much about that life. Only small fragments. There was conflict and my family was…well…I suppose…they perished.” It was something he didn’t think about very often. It hardly seemed real to him, that he had had a mother, a father, brothers and sisters. He’d been so young when that part of him was ripped away, and he ripped from it as well, taken on a slaver’s route, to Delphos, and from there to here – Rome. ”I was sold to a Greek physician.” There was a note of pride on his voice. He had always looked upon his first master as a man of great learning, one valued for his knowledge, and skill.

He set the cup down. Surprisingly he had already finished the contents, such had been his thirst. ”That’s when I came to Rome. I was but a child then. I remember my awe, at seeing the city for the first time.” He smiled, imparting a sense that he too understood what it must be like for Lexus to find himself in such a place as this. ”I have lived here since. I…Not with the same master, obviously.” His tone grew a bit wistful, and his fingers plucked absently at the handle of the jug.

His green eyes came to Lexus’, and he made the effort to put aside whatever feelings he had about his current circumstances and try to be more focused on the boy. Fate decreed his lot. He could not change it. Why dwell in sadness over this recent downswing on the wheel of life?

”Where have you been, in your travels? I sometimes like to imagine journeying to see more of the wonders of the world.” He smiled. He hesitated a moment, but then asked curiously, ”Are you trying to find your father? Have you looked for him, here, in Rome?”

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

”Oh, well…don’t be nervous. It’s…not that bad. If you stick to the downstairs. The common areas.” Come to think of it, as he looked at his new acquaintance, Phaedo did have a thought that he must be careful to make sure Lexus was not insulted or approached in anyway, by the patrons. But the place should be quite quiet at the moment, for most of the employees were gone to participate in the celebrations. After all, it was in part their patron who was being feted!

”In fact, there probably aren’t many people here right now - prostitutes or customers. All of us were out to have a bit of a fun time, with the festival. Venus is our patron. So things won’t get busy again until later, after dark.” And by that time he meant to have sent Lexus on his way home, so there was little worry that the boy would come to any misfortune.

The fact that Lexus had never been in a brothel neither surprised nor amused Phaedo. He didn’t know the boy’s age. He looked to be about on the cusp of what Roman society would consider manhood. But certainly not every Roman male was ushered to a brothel in order to take that further step that would bring him closer to such a claim. Most of the patrons Phaedo had seen in the Venus were far older than Lexus looked to be. There was always time enough for a youth to leave behind that part of his life and move on into being an adult. 

They walked the few steps to enter through the wide, open doorway, which only rarely saw the wooden plank doors being closed. Randy men were prone to pop in at any hour of the day or night, and the Venus meant to accommodate their needs. Inside it was dimmer, but Phaedo was accustomed to the interior. Indeed, as he had expected, the one area where patrons tended to congregate was largely empty. This was where those who were not in a huge hurry to copulate, could be entertained and lavished with attention, before moving on to the small cubicles provided for more intimate pleasures. 

Phaedo kept on walking and lead Lexus to the back. The Venus was big enough, and had need enough, to boast its own kitchen, unlike most of the plebian dwellings of the city. Even the cooks seemed to be out, so he felt no compunction to find a jug with wine and pour two cups. In some brothels that might have been considered stealing. The mistress of the Venus was slightly more relaxed about such thing. True, that was probably in the instance where the one gifted the wine was expected to become a paying customer before he left the establishment. But Phaedo thought he could bend the rules just a bit, on this one occasion.

He handed one of the cups to Lexus and sipped at the other thirstily. ”What part of Rome do you live in?”he asked, preparing to figure out a safe route home for the boy. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

”Phaedo,” he replied, with a friendly smile. ”Come on then, this way.”

If the boy seemed shy or awkward, Phaedo was polite enough not to notice. He wasn’t pleased with his current circumstances. He’d certainly had far better living arrangements and duties. But his natural temperament was such that, seeing as he couldn’t change the facts that he was now a prostitute and worked in a brothel, he wasn’t going to spend all day moping or griping about it. So he saw no need to be embarrassed himself about what he was or where he was going to take the youth. What they needed was to get out of these thick crowds, and he knew how to accomplish that.

As he had said, it wasn’t far. Keeping to the wall, they moved like salmon up a fast flowing river, sliding by the main throng. Ducking into a twilight alley, where the walls of the buildings leaned together to block much of the sun, he lead his temporary charge, this way and that. In no more than a few minutes, they were approaching a broader thoroughfare, and the entrance to his ‘home.’

He smiled at Lexus. ”Come inside for a moment, if you wish. I’m sure I can find a cup of wine for you, if you have a thirst. Or water, if you prefer.” Of course, it wasn’t Phaedo’s place to dole out the inventory of the business for free. But he’d made friends enough with other workers here, that he knew there would be no outcry over two cups of wine. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

If the boy stumbled over one word a bit, Phaedo didn’t notice it. He only thought it was sweet, that the youth seemed concerned about his injury. He must be a kind person, Phaedo thought – something of a rarity in the densely populated city. He seemed quite energized too, possibly by the excitement of the crowd that still swept past them, like a swollen river in the Spring. His eyes were bright, his expression lively, although overlaid temporarily with concern.

The words that tumbled forth seemed to confirm that the boy was indeed finding the throng of people exhilarating, and troublesome too. When he faltered, Phaedo did notice this second verbal stumble, and it took him only a moment to realize what the boy had been about to say. So he supplied the word that was missing. ”A prostitute? Yes. I work at the Domus Venus. Have you ever heard about it?”

Yes, Rome was a big place, and there were many brothels. And this young fellow looked too young to be partaking in the types of entertainments offered at such places. Yet Phaedo himself had been younger, if he’d had to make an estimate of their respective ages, when he’d began his life as a bed slave. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable for the boy to have at least heard of the famed, or infamous, house of pleasure, named after the very goddess today’s celebrations honored.

He spoke without shame, because, well…he was a slave. His lot was his lot, and no need to wallow in an emotion that really could not be indulged in. If he had been a citizen, with rights and honor and virtue, and he’d been reduced in circumstances to such a wretched condition, then…yes, it would make sense. But he had been a slave for almost as long as he could remember. And serving others, in the way he did, had been, really, a part of his life for several years. In a word, he was used to having no dignity, no humanity, accorded to him. Why feel shame when you were nothing, no matter how you looked at it?

His eyes swept across the human river and then back to the boy. He seemed young, and nervous. Phaedo offered, ”It’s not far from here. Not far at all. I think I know a way to return which would get us out of these crowds. If you like, you can accompany me and then you can make your way home from there.”

It didn’t seem an outlandish idea to him. He was just trying to be helpful.

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

”No, no! Of course not. It wasn’t your fault!” Phaedo replied quickly, his expression reinforcing his sincerity. He grimaced. ”These crowds are just thick – everyone intent upon his own goal and uncaring about those around him. But, yes, I’m fine.” Or so he thought, until the boy mentioned his knees and Phaedo bowed his head to get a look at them.

”Oh, you’re right. But don’t worry. It’s really nothing.” They were scraped, a bit, but no major cuts or anything of that nature. Nothing a little water and twenty-four hours wouldn’t take care of.

He looked again at the boy. ”Where is it that you wanted to go? Are you lost?” His gaze went to the crowd again. ”You picked a bad day for it,” he said, with a small grin. ”I was on my way to the Temple myself, to celebrate the Vinalia. Now it seems that perhaps that isn’t the best idea. I had no idea that so many people would be interested in doing the same.”

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

The touch to his shoulder was enough to get Phaedo’s attention, even in this press of humanity. He turned his head for a moment, and heard the words, saw the face of the youngster who was asking for some assistance. But that was it. In the next moment, Phaedo was down, shoved from behind by someone unwilling to wait for him to answer the question. As his knees hit the hard paving stones, he felt panic leap into his chest. He was able to stop himself from doing a complete face plant by dint of an outstretched arm. The jar sent up from hand to wrist went all the way to his shoulder. At least in the next second or so, none of those immediately around him stepped on his fingers. 

Luckily, he had the speed and agility of youth on his side, and the wits to know he needed to get up quickly. All in all, he was only down for the space of two breaths. The one hand which hadn’t come into play to break his fall groped blindly for the wall that was only inches away. Perhaps the one who had sought his assistance would think to now try to be the one to assist, and grab his hand and help him up. Phaedo barely knew – he was only intent upon rising to his feet – and this he managed.

He pressed his back to the wall, catching his breath, and he looked sideways at the boy. His eyes were big, with the possibility of injury having been avoided. Still, he managed to smile, if a bit shakily. 

”By the gods! That was a close one!” he exclaimed, his gaze darting back to the crowd for a moment, before rounding again on the younger boy. 

“The Vinalia Urbana was held on 23 April. It was predominantly a wine festival, shared by Venus as patron of profane wine (vinum spurcum) intended for everyday human use, and Jupiter as patron of the strongest, purest, sacrificial grade wine (temetum). In honour of Venus, whose powers had provided humankind with ordinary wine, men and women alike sampled the vinum spurcum of the previous autumn's pressing. As god of the weather on which the wine-harvest depended, Jupiter was offered a special libation of the previous year's sacred wine vintage, blessed by his high priest and poured into a ditch outside Venus' Capitoline temple, probably under the gaze of Rome's higher echelons. Common girls (vulgares puellae) and prostitutes (meretrices) gathered at Venus Erycina's Colline temple – probably on separate occasions, for propriety's sake – to offer the goddess myrtle, mint, and rushes concealed in rose-bunches. In return, they asked her for "beauty and popular favour", and to be made "charming and witty".”

Wikipedia entry for Vinalia – Vinalia Urbana section (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinalia#Vinalia_Urbana )

“The Temple of Venus Erycina on the Capitoline Hill was built by the dictator Quintus Fabius Maximus. He was appointed dictator after the disastrous Battle of Trasimeno in 217 BC and promised this temple to Venus after consulting the Sibylline Books, hoping thereby to reverse his fate. The temple was inaugurated in 215 BC. Later this temple was probably called the Temple of the Capitoline Venus (Aedes Veneris Capitolinae). The temple was probably in the Area Capitolina, by the great Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.”

Wikipedia entry for Temple of Venus Erycina – Capitoline Hill section (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Temple_of_Venus_Erycina )

**************************** 
Regio VIII

Phaedo was happy to once again have an excuse to escape from the brothel and be free to join in one of the many religious celebrations which occurred with great frequency in the city. Religion was central to Roman culture and although not all citizens participated with equal zeal in observing the daily rituals, most enjoyed the chance to get out and participate as part of the crowds that formed to show gratitude to, or ask for blessings from, this god or that one. Pheado had not been raised to be a zealot, especially as he was privately owned slave. But his Greek physician had instructed him carefully and thoroughly about the gods – not only the Romans ones, but the Greek and the Egyptian ones as well. Of course, the Roman pantheon had its roots in Greek antiquity, so the overlap was great. But by the time he was ten, Phaedo knew possibly more than many Roman citizens of high birth about the deities they worshipped, the rites used to honor them, and the festivals with which they were praised and celebrated.

So it was with joy in his heart that he had set out from the Venus, to attend the day of holiness wherein its patron namesake was honored and thanked for the gift of “profane” wine. His joy lay primarily in being out of the brothel, and being able to once again be at least on the edge of something more culturally important than presenting his buttocks for random men to take their pleasure from. Along with many of the other prostitutes – for this was their day, like no other in the year – he had begun the relatively short walk to the Capitoline Hill, where the temple of Venus Erycina stood, close by the far more impressive one dedicated to Jupiter Optimus Maximus. 

The Forum Romanum stood cheek to jowl with the Porta Absidata. So the walk would not be a long or strenuous one. But the crowds were quite thick – this was an ancient and well liked festival – and so progress was slow. With people from all walks of life pushing and shifting, and more joining the procession moving towards the temple with every few feet, Phaedo found himself separated from his companions. He wasn’t fearful of getting lost. He knew his way around. But the risk of stumbling and falling, and getting stepped on, was on his mind. So he took care in where he set his feet, and made sure to keep his eyes open, and his wits about him. He wished to arrive at the temple, or as close thereto as he could, without mishap. 

Lexus Naevius Gineverus

It was not unlike other journeys he’d made to his room. Patrons often enough couldn’t wait for things to get started and were handsy, grabbing at him as he led them along. Yet, this was different, if only for the fact that – far from being annoyed or frustrated by this man’s impatient lust, or even feeling completely neutral about what was going on – Phaedo was aroused by it. The hands were welcome. When lips touched his skin, he felt an inner shiver, of pleasure! That was almost completely novel, and Phaedo could hardly think what to make of it, except to enjoy it. If his customer was thinking such pleasure with a comely young man had been a long time coming, Phaedo, for his own part, would have agreed wholeheartedly. He’d been waiting so long for such a dream encounter, he had forgotten even how much he longed for something like this to happen. Every touch was lighting him on fire, and although his patron couldn’t see it, his cheek were deep pink with his own lustful awakening.

They reached the narrow doorway of his small cubicle – a man such as this would have easily filled the opening in its entirety. Pheado turned in, the customer following, and as he turned towards the man, it was no surprise really to see that tunic coming off. Some men preferred for the slave to do all the work, literally. But it was clear. This one meant to get done to business right away – the business of sex. Phaedo harbored no resentment for that. On all other occasions, he had gone about that business – his business – with compliant tranquility. Perhaps that’s why he had not found more favor among the brothel customers. For those who simply wanted a good rut, he was completely adequate, with the added bonus of being handsome. He was good enough at rendering pleasure, in all the typical positions one might expect, and men liked to gaze on his beauty as they entered him, in those various ways.

But he was no huge flirt. He hadn’t learned how to tease with a smile, or be wickedly adorable. Beyond simply being there, he hadn’t worked very hard on learning how to really make a man pant for his lips, his mouth, his bottom. He did his job, as he saw it to be, without causing any problems. But it was one hundred percent true, his heart was never in it. Of course, his own body often reacted to what was being done to him. But that was something separate, somehow. It was strange – to think of the body, brain and heart being so disjointed, and acting independent of one another. And maybe it was all illusion – but that’s how it seemed to be to him.

Yet now, as the man pressed himself, naked, again him, Phaedo felt another thrill of pleasure – such a very odd sensation! He gave himself into that kiss, arms snaking about the man’s neck, lips parting, their mouths moving against one another’s. He felt hands moving as well, on his body, and his penis reacting to that, bobbing against the fabric of the tunic he still wore. His lips left those others to quickly take the simple garment off, rendering him as naked as the other, their bodies and mouths coming back together like a magnet drawn to lodestone. His own hands roamed down, from shoulders to back to waist, the long, soft fingers of one hand slipping around and between them, reaching for the penis that now pushed against his own. 

Lips parting again, Phaedo was able to look into those eyes, despite the dim lighting in the cell like room. But they did not linger long, much as he might have liked to simply lose himself in them for an eternity. Even his own poetic soul was losing ground fast to the rising tide of lust. Phaedo dipped his head to kiss – neck, collar bone, chest, nipple. His breath was actually coming fast in and out of his nose. A lick, there, to that hard nub, and he fully intended to go further still, until he found himself on his knees, if the customer wished it to be so. 

Alucio Valens Lurio

As expected, the man made no protest to the gentle hand laid on his leg. Quite the opposite – he took matters further himself by hoisting Phaedo into his lap, a maneuver helped by Phaedo’s own lithe accommodation. The whore settled where he was so obviously wanted to be by the customer. And given the common attire of the times – his only a simple tunica with nothing underneath – their various limbs and parts were now in warm contact, separated by…not much. The hand that came to caress his rump was neither welcome nor unwelcome. It was simply business as usual. At least it was a further indication that Phaedo was doing his job right, in having attracted the man’s desires. That was part of a whore’s skill set – although in this case he’d done little yet to demonstrate any skills beyond just looking pretty.

His hands had come up naturally to rest on the man’s broad, beefy shoulders. In such a position, Phaedo’s eyes were on a level with the patron’s and he risked another glance into their depths. He wasn’t shy about being the object of another man’s – or a woman’s – desire. Likewise, he wasn’t embarrassed by the immediate physical intimacy. That was to be expected. He was a whore. That was what he existed for, to pleasure others with his body. 

But for some reason, when he looked into this man’s eyes, he did feel suddenly shy, those words bouncing about in Phaedo’s head. Your master was a fool to give you up. Well, he had received compliments before. There was little significance to be attached to such empty noises. He knew this. Only a fool would assign them any value beyond a simple appreciation for physical beauty. And Phaedo might have been quiet, well mannered, gentle…but he was no fool.

And yet…this man was handsome. And though the eyes he gazed into weren’t exactly…kind…there was something there, some raw masculinity and…vitality…that made Phaedo tremble on the inside. He’d never had a lover, never known the thrill of looking into eyes that made him melt with the heat of love – or at least…affection. He could recite love poetry by heart. But his own heart was a virgin. And, in a most peculiar way, so was his body – virginal in never having been given truly willingly, truly with desire of his own. Looking now into those hazel eyes, he felt a wistful longing that was hazy and undefined.

But, even as the inner alarms were sounded, somewhere deep in his heart, he did not drop his gaze. He wanted this feeling to last, a bit longer. Regardless that – this was a thing to be avoided. This was what drove some prostitutes to despair, if Helios was to be believed. Developing desires of his own, allowing himself to dream, as he did – it was dangerous. It was true, he wished that he would one day find his way out of the Venus. That pipe dream involved a man – some hazy, undescribed, blurry creature who would be his salvation. But a fanciful hope was very different from the solid feel of a man between his thighs. Diving into his gaze, risked letting that chimera become too real, too close – that could easily lead to a broken heart. 

Despite all, he let his own gaze linger, for that one moment. When the man spoke, then his eyes dropped again. Business as usual, yes, that’s what the man was here for, not to have a well practiced whore making cow’s eyes at him like some young maiden. Although, it was novel to be asked about boundaries – as if Phaedo could dictate the parameters of their impending coupling. He’d barely had time to even think about the question, when there was that abrasive rub of stubble to his skin, and then…the feel of teeth, and lips. 

It is a fact of human physiology that even unwanted physical stimulation can evoke arousal in the recipient. In Phaedo’s life, this fact may have helped him get through what might have otherwise been some disastrous sexual encounters. Of course, in most of the intimate interactions he’d been made to participate in – at least at the Venus - his own arousal was of absolutely no interest to the other party. Nor had it been necessary to the exchange. He simply provided a convenient receptacle, one way or the other, to a customer’s organ.

It had been a bit different with his former master, and mistress. There had been acts which they wanted him to perform that most definitely required him to at least get an erection. Through a combination of self-stimulation and closing his eyes, he could achieve that. So he was practiced at finding ways to coax his body into performing what was required of him. 

On the other hand, it was rare that he’d actually felt erotic arousal – the response that came from desire and not just necessity or body chemistry. There was just something…different…about this patron – something, or things, which set him apart from the hundreds of men Phaedo had serviced in the past months. It really wasn’t so difficult to puzzle out. The man was handsome, rugged, virile, and interested. It was very shallow on Phaedo’s part. Like those who came to the Venus for a good time, it was a case of physical attractiveness that was drawing him in. Beautiful eyes, a passing compliment, one small show of consideration – it was all far more than enough to make Phaedo feel…attracted. It was a very rare feeling – unique even. When the customer’s lips touched his skin, he felt it, down to his toes. It was a shock. And he wanted more.

Rules or requests? With another patron, given ample time, and the sense that the question was legitimate – one he could answer with frank honesty - Phaedo could have come up with a list of things he didn’t care for, when being forced. Now, he couldn’t think of even one, because couldn’t think. He trembled a bit on the outside now, his hand moving to caress the back of the man’s neck, his cheek pressing to the other covered with scruff. ”No, Dominus,” was all he could think to murmur in reply, easily heard as his lips rested near to the man’s ear. His face turned that fraction of an inch to be able to press them to the angle of that strong jawline, the tip of his tongue darting forth to lick one short stroke across the budding whiskers, ending with a flick to the earlobe. In his groin he felt a stirring. He shifted a bit, more fully cognizant of the fingers that pressed into the flesh of his bottom.

”Would you like to go to my room? It’s upstairs,” he asked, in a soft voice. It was not unknown for customers to show no compunction about beginning their sexual escapades right there in the public space of the brothel. But if his customer planned to get…carried away…Phaedo would much prefer it to be in the privacy of that tiny cubicle in the second story. 

Alucio Valens Lurio

Phaedo did as he was asked, although given their respective positions, it was hardly his place to refuse a request from a customer. Some might – there were prostitutes at the brothel who were quite feisty, others who were more teasing, and still one or two who were downright mulish and balked at every facet of their life here. Any of them might have refused – at least at first – playing hard to get, so that the customer had to put in a bit of effort to capture their attention and their time. Some men liked it like that, enjoying the chase and the conquest, even with a whore. Phaedo would probably never be like those others. He was at his core a pretty candid person, unused to playing games, though given his good looks he might have been a hugely successful flirt, or a gold digger even. 

But no, he simply sat beside the patron, ready to be agreeable. He’d found that was the easiest way to get along here, and the mistress seemed to appreciate that he was not one of the trouble makers. She would hardly stand for such. As he sat down, he didn’t know what might have caught this man’s attention – his form or his recitation. But it hardly mattered. In all probability, they’d wind up going to his little cubicle up the stairs and having sex, Catullus or no. At the end of the day, that was what the Venus was all about, regardless of any little extra frills. 

When the man began by referring to what Phaedo could only assume was the poetry – the ‘impressive display’ - the slave was at least gratified to know someone had been listening. However, the inquiry wasn’t so much about the content as it was about the curious fact of who had been standing there, spouting it off. A whore in a brothel who was literate, yes – that must have been a novelty – as borne out by the question – had he always been one?

”No, dominus,” he began, as the arm settled about him. He did not fear or loathe or feel disgust at the familiarity of the gesture. All things being equal, he’d much rather be touched by this man than many of the men he’d been used by, including perhaps even his former master. At least this one was handsome. In a world where he had so little to derive pleasure from himself, perhaps that was something better than nothing.

But, being always one to try to speak honestly, he appended to that simple answer, ”I mean, I have worked here…” He lifted his gaze from his bare feet to his immediate surroundings for a few seconds. ”…For…several months. Almost six actually. Had it really been that long? Already? ”But before that I…I was a body slave…as, as well...” Did that also count as being a whore? He wasn't quite sure. It did to his way of thinking. But he came to a slightly awkward halt, assuming the man didn’t wish to hear his life history. That’s not what he was there for, obviously. Men came to the Venus to enjoy a good rut. Conversation, drink, entertainment – that all circled on the periphery of that central core of its existence.

The man asked his name, and his eyes finally came back from that quick sweep of the common area of the brothel to his customer – his now, in that the man seemed interested in him, at least for the moment. So it was his job now to take care of the man’s needs, however that played out. Pheado’s green eyes settled on those dark ones, briefly. Oh dear. No, he better not being doing that too much – they were eyes he could so easily fall into, and lose his way. This man was handsome. A whore could dream but a wise whore kept his feet firmly rooted in reality. Best to avoid a broken heart, right?

”Phaedo,” he answered, his voice soft. He lowered his eyes again, unaware that in so doing he presented quite the exact picture of one so often extolled in the type of poetry he had read – a modest maid whose thick, dark lashes brush against her cheeks – a sight sure to capture the heart of her lover. He no longer gave the name in a voice tinged with hope – however faint – that the one hearing it would recognize it for what it meant. It seemed his sad little joke – made in irony, when he’d first given it as his name to the one who’d bought him for the brothel – was on him. Duras, Ophiocus, Hyacinthus, now Phaedo – he’d answer to whatever. For after all, what’s in name? 

Quite naturally, without shame or embarrassment – for it was what was expected of him and he was dutiful in his employment – his hand moved to the customer’s thigh. It was a soft hand, which had not known any type of hard manual labor. That was one of the perks of being born comely. It rested where it lay for a moment. But Phaedo knew his job, and unless the customer raised some sort of objection, it would not stay still for long. 

Alucio Valens Lurio

Mature Content

Life had settled into a sort of rhythm for Phaedo. Not the one he might have wished for, certainly – but what slave has the luxury of doing what he wants? Very few, and he realized that and was for the most part content, and thankful, that his life wasn’t worse than it was. Providing sexual pleasure to customers was different in form only to what he’d done for years. The society in which he lived may have cast prostitutes into the same lower than the low status as actors. Yet there was always a high demand for their services, and, like actors, they gave the populace a much needed source of relief from every day stress. He served a very infinitesimally small part in the Empire, though he’d have been the first to laugh at such a presumptuous idea. He lived, day to day, serving the men who came into the Venus seeking diversion and release, and performing any other tasks the mistress of the brothel might require of him. He wasn’t ill used. His fear of physical abuse had greatly lessened over the months. And sometimes, like on this day, he was even allowed to put his mind to work as well as his body.

Word had gotten around the brothel that one of the whores was literate, and actually knew a great deal about both Roman and Greek literature. This had reached the ears of the mistress, who had felt it would be novel – and high class – to have her recently acquired youth try reciting, in the common area, for the entertainment of the guests. Phaedo had been elated! He knew much by heart, and had found the courage to ask the woman if she might seek to borrow some works that he was familiar with, such that he could ‘brush up’ on his recollection. She had heard him out, had him recite what he could for her, and decided to give it a go. For the past few weeks, he had been in heaven during his down time, pouring over the precious scrolls she had borrowed somehow. He treated them as if they were the most valuable of jewels, more careful with them than if they had been his newborn babe. The others found his infatuation amusing. Phaedo was obtuse to their smirks. He spent literally every minute he had devoted to the memorization of each precious word, each turn of phrase. And then he had made his debut, and had been deemed…satisfactory.

It was true. Men did not frequent a brothel primarily to hear poetry recitations. The more common forms of entertainment were singing, music, perhaps dancing even. But his voice was pleasant and well modulated, his memory perfect (of those works he had had the chance to review) and he even had a nice delivery. So, for the while, the mistress allowed him to drone on, at certain irregular times of the day or evening. He still had his usual duties to perform, and, truth be told, he was always rather saddened when he was tasked with going upstairs to his tiny cubicle with a customer. But he made no outward complaint, of course. The last thing he wanted was to have this dear privilege taken away.

On this particular day, he stood where the mistress had thought his oral skills would create the most pleasant back drop to what normally went on in the area where the employees greeted and engaged with the patrons. He was reciting from a well known poet of more recent times than his beloved Greeks. Of course, the mistress encouraged Phaedo to select the more salacious examples of verse. This one was far tamer than many he could have chosen.

"Yesterday, Calvus, idle day
, we played with my writing tablets,

harmonising in being delightful:
 scribbling verses, each of us

playing with metres, this and that,

reciting together, through laughter and wine.


And I left there fired with your charm,
Calvus, 
and with your wit,
so that, restless, I couldn’t enjoy food,

close my eyes quietly in sleep,

but tossed the whole bed about wildly

in passion, longing to see the light,
so I might speak to you, and be with you.


But afterwards I lay there wearied
with effort, half-dead in the bed,
I made this poem for you, pleasantly,
from which you might gather my pain.

Now beware of being rash, don’t reject 
my prayers I beg, my darling,

lest Nemesis demand your punishment. She’s
 a powerful goddess. Beware of annoying her."

(Catallus)

It spoke of a longing that transcended the mere physical. He hoped no-one was listening closely enough that they might complain to the mistress that he was boring them to tears. In any case, he felt a sort of rapture within and was pleased with his own efforts.

He had just paused, his eyes casting about to see if in fact anyone had been listening, when…he saw the gesture. Oh. Well, here was one who was watching him. But whether he had been listening as well, Phaedo could not say. He’d been much caught up in the words that spilled from his lips. He blusehed a bit – it was still possible, despite how and where he earned his living – and he moved from his position to approach the man. Again, he felt mild disappointment in having to leave off. In all probability he would wind up going upstairs with this one. On the plus side, the one who had beckoned to him was passably handsome. In fact, as he came right up to the seated patron, the poetry receded into the background of his thoughts, as he brought his now practiced skills of ‘pleasing the customers” to the fore. In so doing, he realized the man was actually quite handsome. Even a whore can take some small pleasure from such vagaries of fate.

”Yes, dominus?” he said in his quiet way, his eyes taking in the face quickly and then settling at the man’s feet. One never knew when a customer, or any other free born citizen, would expect or demand the extremes of deference due them by a slave. He’d found it better to be safe than sorry. He waited, knowing full well every moment of their interaction from henceforth would be directed by the burly, manly looking patron. He hadn’t yet become good at seduction, as some here were, like Helios, his friend and mentor. Phaedo was quiescent and pliable and amenable. If the man liked his whores a bit more fiery, he’d have to keep looking. 

Alucio Valens Lurio

It wasn’t long before his friend appeared, and Calvunus grinned and replied, ”Sent the fat one on his way, drunk as a lord and passed out, in a litter. If he gets dumped by the side of the road and robbed blind, I’m going to blame you.” He chuckled. ”The other one is upstairs. Back to porking Vespa, no doubt. That should keep him happy and quiet.”

He smiled at the suggestion of drinking and dicing, and let Marcus’ arm settle with old familiarity around his shoulders. He turned his head and leaned in a bit, almost as if he might kiss Marcus’ cheek, but instead he only seemed to look beyond his friend and point. ”Look. Naiobi has that one entranced.” He indicated one of the whores, who was dancing alluringly in front of a customer who did indeed look mesmerized by her ample, swaying breasts. That was Calvunus’ way. He loved to tease Marcus, and making him both think he might be kissed and directing his eyes to a nice pair of jiggling tits should surely be enough to do the trick.

He chuckled again as he pulled away, once inside the room where they often passed the time. Taking the seat opposite, he smirked. ”Terrified. When I see what’s hanging between your legs I tremble with fear. My poor ass clenches at the mere thought. ” He laughed. ”Tell you what. Let’s play and whichever of us comes out on top gets to…be on top, after.” He waggled his eyebrows and leered at Marcus, his meaning clear.

”Or…are you scared?” he asked with another devilish grin. 

Marcus Falco

Well, it was just business as usual, for any night of the week, wasn’t it? Calvunus smirked – when did he ever not – as he came back inside the brothel. Playing muscle for the domina wasn’t a terribly exciting aspect of his employment. But at least it meant he was able to hang out with pretty women, and men – pretty and willing - and Marcus. Marcus was still rather pretty, but rarely willing - or at least he pretended not to be. This was one of the primary reasons Calvunus took such pleasure from being around the man. He seemed to derive more pleasure from tormenting him than ogling him or trying to get cozy with him. But it was all in good fun, for Calvunus. Maybe Marcus didn’t find his friend’s constant teasing and baiting so very amusing.

The two drunks had been disposed of, at Marcus’ instruction. The whores of the Venus could rest a little easier, the other patrons would not be bothered by such nonsense, and the domina would be pleased – that’s what the bouncers were there for. Calvunus had asked around and managed to find someone who knew the drunk who had apparently started it all – the one who’d passed out snoring loudly – and he’d taken a few coins from the man’s purse to find a litter to bear him home. Hopefully, the bearers wouldn’t dump him somewhere and rob him of the remaining money in the small leather pouch. But, once away from the Venus, his welfare was of no concern to Calvunus.

Stepping back inside, he didn’t bother to seek out Phaedo, the still new whore who had been in the center of the brawl that had broken out. That one had been taken under Helios’ wing, and then Marcus had gone to check on him as well, at Calvunus' amused suggestion. That was ample attention, even for such a pretty one as Phaedo was. Besides, Calvunus relished the thought of the grumpy old bear playing nurse to a battered prostitute. He knew Marcus loathed such things. Just knowing so brought a chuckle from Calvunus’ lips, as he walked over to one of the girls and asked if everything was still quiet and in order. 

They appeared to be so, and Calvunus leaned contentedly against the doorframe, smiling, but with watchful eyes shifting from the lamp lit interior to the darkness of the night outside. Actually, he was waiting for Marcus to put in an appearance, so he could ask how the boy was, and tell him how he’d seen to the drunken fool. But more so, he was looking forward to teasing his friend about the whole affair, in any way that occurred to his nimble mind. Poor Marcus, he could never catch a break.

Marcus Falco