Gil

Titus was making no effort to be completely silent. But the noises that escaped him were simply the primitive grunts and gasps of a man exerting energy, and finding pleasure. As he pumped harder, the slave's back now bowing down slightly into an inverted arch, Titus seemingly intent upon plowing him just as deeply as he could, the soldier's breath came in pants, similar to a runner's louder breathing. Despite the earlier chill brought on by their walk outdoors in the wind and rain, his skin was quite warm, with perspiration sheening the middle of his back, alongside his spinal column, under his arm pits, the column of his neck, the muscles of his lower abdomen, and his inner thighs.

When Rufus had let out that small exclamation, as their positions had shifted, the corners of Titus' parted lips lifted in a small grin. It wasn't a requisite or goal to give pleasure. But it could not be denied, it was empowering to know that he could make another man moan, just the same. It was just all the more invigorating, although he was already highly aroused, simply with the act of sex itself. If he was too rough or too hard, it was lust nor cruelty that made it so. No excuse, but...he needed none. this was his right, and never in a million years would he have questioned his privilege to exercise it, when and how so he chose.

It might have seemed to the slave that this would in fact be something that ended as quickly as it began. It had been a long day for both men, though in entirely separate ways. Titus had extended things well into the night, and they would be up with the cock's crow at dawn, to begin an even longer day, in all probability. But, even as Titus could feel that he could easily orgasm with just a few more moments of such thrusting, he slowed his pace, enough so that he could press his loins fully against Rufus' rump, arching over him, and with his upper body, and a palm flattened against his shoulder, he pushed the slave back down.

Now they were somewhat as they had begun, but with the addition of Titus' cock up inside Rufus' ass. The thrusting had stopped for this moment, and once again, Titus raised a hand to run it through Rufus' red-gold hair. He kissed the side of the slave's neck, and the edge of his ear. He ran his hand down Rufus' side, sliding it around to find and grasp the cock that was fairly well trapped between body and bed. With cock in hand, Titus pulled backwards, rolling slightly onto his side, taking Rufus with him, his lips never leaving off tasting the freckled skin of neck and shoulder and right below the ear.

His hand then searched for Rufus', and, finding it, brought it to the slave's cock, and Titus' hand wrapped Rufus' about it, and together, they stroked, slowly. And as slowly, Titus let his hips rock forward and back, creating little actual movement, in terms of plunging in and out of the slave as he had been. But the sensation of his cock moving about in a small, teasing way, inside of him was pleasant enough.

@Sharpie

It was satisfying. It was always satisfying - sex - of just about any variety. It was a part of Titus that perhaps strayed sometimes outside that Roman ideal of a man who knew total self-control in all things. He liked sex too much and engaged in it possibly far too often to be able to claim he could ignore his body's urges towards it. It was a pleasure, of the flesh, and it was a form of release, from tension, and it was relief - at least a momentary diversion from the stress and restlessness that plagued him night and day.

He grunted as he pushed inside the slave, feeling the tightness surrounding his cock with a cascade of pleasure, rippling from the tip down the shaft and to his balls. He dug his toes into the covering of the bed and pulled the man onto him, fully, grinding into him, as he felt the relative acceptance of ass to cock. For a moment he was still, and then his hips began to sway backwards, so that he could pull out partially and then thrust in again. His hands on Rufus's hip steadied his balance. He leaned forward and his hips began to snap in a rhythmic pulse, in and out, in and out. Sex was no complicated science. Yes, some were better at it than others, more skilled and with greater flexibility, or staying power or imagination. But at the end of the day it was friction - on the right spot - and speed. Most human beings could orgasm if the right combination of those two things could be achieved.

Knees spreading just a bit more as he continued to thrust into Rufus, for better balance, and one hand moving to grab the slave's shoulder, Titus pulled him back onto his cock with each stroke, as his pace began to quicken.

@Sharpie

It would fit. Titus would be sure of that, although he had no plan to force things in a horribly uncomfortable way. He leaned over, to push at the slave's thigh, further spreading his legs apart, so he would be able to slip in between them. His hand rested on the man's balls for a moment, massaging them very gently, his thumb finding Rufus' entrance once more and rubbing over it a few times, as he continued to stroke himself. He then nimbly climbed back on the bed, first kneeling, then leaning over Rufus, stretching out over him, in an intimate but  not wholly sexual way. It was almost as if he meant to cuddle him, from behind, his hand caressing Rufus' hip, His lips kissing the back of his neck. His other arm was stretched out, halfway circling about that red hair, the hand running strong fingertips through the strands turned gold in the light of the lamp. He breathed against the slave's freckled shoulders, his eyes closed for a long moment, as his hips instinctually began to roll, pushing his stiff length against Rufus' buttocks.

He then bit down on Rufus' skin, at the curve where neck blends into shoulder, a nip, not one to cause great pain but sharp enough to be felt. Another, and then Titus was sliding his hand under Rufus, wrapping his fingers around the front of his shoulders, pulling him back as Titus shifted to kneel again and position himself behind him. With Rufus' bottom in the air a few inches, Titus grabbed himself and set the head of his cock against the prepared entrance. Hands moving to the slave's hips, he thrust inwards, with a steady pressure, while pulling Rufus backwards.

@Sharpie

The touch to his cock was welcome. A small groan might have escaped Titus' lips, as the work roughened skin of the slave's hand stroked the far more silky skin of his penis. He pushed himself gently into Rufus' strokes and they continued on for moments, with this kissing, touching and fingering, until Titus felt satisfied that at least the preliminary ground work had been laid to be able to move things forward. He withdrew his finger from Rufus' ass, his hand momentarily lingering though, massaging the flesh of his rump, and pulling their bodies together, sensate of Rufus' cock pressing into his groin. His kisses were quite passionate. Titus had always enjoyed claiming another person's mouth with his own. His chest pressed against Rufus. His long legs moved restlessly, one sliding between the slave's, and then he was halfway on top of the smaller man, still pushing himself into the arousing stroking, shifting on top of him rhythmically.

But in the next moment, he was gone, pulling away and rolling to his back, and then to his other side, rising up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from Rufus, all in one swift, smooth movement. He bent down, and reached for the bottle again and applied a liberal amount of oil to his very stiff cock., stroking himself a few times Then he stood, his oily hand still on his now oily cock, still moving back and forth, as he looked down at Rufus, and said "Roll over."

@Sharpie

In the finger pushed, while his tongue was equally intrusive, penetrating Rufus's mouth, as Titus lowered himself to lie alongside the slave, on his side. His hand slid behind Rufus' head, pulling him even more insistently closer, as his other finger withdrew, only for the one beside it to plunge in immediately in its wake. If Rufus himself was aroused, that wasn't really of any concern to Titus. He typically was not cruel or brutal. But neither was this an activity undertaken for the pleasure of anyone but himself - with some rare exceptions. There would have to be some significant emotional connection for a man of such privilege and power to deign to care about a sexual partner's enjoyment of the act. With alternating fingers, he massaged the opening and hoped, at least, to prepare the slave to be entered, without a lot of distress. That wasn't what he wanted. He just wanted to have the chance to fuck Rufus silly and feel, for a moment, some lassitude, of both body and spirit.

@Sharpie

Titus didn’t bother to explain his question. Let the slave think what he would of it, or not think about it  at all. He got the answer he wanted, and he nodded and said an affirming ”Good,” before bending to reach for the cup once more. He straightened, and then drained it, and in setting it back on the floor, noted the bottle of oil. He had noticed, of course, when Rufus had moved it, a moment ago. A courtesy to the guest? Or a subtle offer that would ease his own role in what was likely to come? Either way, it now brought a small smirk to Titus' lips. Rufus was no idiot. He found he could appreciate that quality in a servant. Why not encourage the man who was about to penetrate you to make it go more...smoothly? Titus could only imagine what it might be like - a feeling he had no intention of experiencing - and the uncountable number of times he'd been on the "giving" end of the equation was more than enough to have learned...yes...a bit of lubricant could be of help to both parties.

He plucked the bottle up and let a small trickle  - no more than a few drops, really - course over his middle fingertips. With one foot still planted on the floor, he rested the other knee on the bed, bending down to capture Rufus' mouth once more with his own, one hand planted beside that red head. With no fanfare, the other hand - the one now consecrated with a bit of oil - slid between Rufus' legs, finding his entrance and massaging it just for a few moments, before a finger pushed inside.

Titus had not really given much thought to how he wanted to proceed. Front, back, both were good. Both would allow him to expend a bit more energy before trying to sleep. That the slave had asked was some sign that Rufus was probably not virginal when it came to sex with other men. Still, a thought occurred to Titus that prompted him to ask, as he loomed over Rufus, looking down at him, "Have you been fucked by a man before?" The reason he asked was a simple one. He'd already ascertained that Rufus could ride, and that was all to the good. They'd be able to move faster that way, over the next few days. He didn't want to ruin Rufus to the point he'd be in so much pain that he could do neither - ride nor run. There was no point in that.

If the younger man was a virgin, Titus probably wasn't interested in either taking the time to avoid a good deal of pain, or forcing the matter and making him suffer. There were bound to be others who Rufus could rouse and send in his stead, if that was the case. Or alternatively, Titus could just let him finish the job with his mouth, although that wasn't nearly as satisfactory as actual sex.

@Sharpie

Phaedo sighed, to himself, as the man left him, physically, moving to sit up and retrieve his tunic. As much as he wanted to prolong the dream, it was already torn asunder, and the tears that threatened shifted and morphed, somehow, to ones of real sadness. But he did not let them fall. That was not to be done, in front of the customers. Instead, he distracted himself with movement, sitting upright, his legs bent and crossed, almost like a child would do, his hands now nervously twisting a bit in his still bare lap.

He considered the question, and the observation, and finally he answered, head bent, his eyes on his hands, "It is my fate, domine. If in my childhood I was blessed and had a good man for a master - the one who taught me - then perhaps...I also transgressed. Somehow. For..." He sighed a bit more audibly.

"He was lost to me and the gods saw fit to deliver me to another who had no such inclination. When he died, his heir sold me and... here I am."

His eyes finally came up to Alucio, and the man's rugged beauty almost made him gasp. But in fact, only his lips parted and no sound escaped. The man was so handsome. But he was no vision from a dream. He was real. And the reality of Phaedo's life was he was a whore and this man had just rented his body for a fuck. If he was lucky, maybe he'd been pleasing enough that the man might come back, some day. More than that, he would not let himself hope for.

Quite suddenly he realized, his dreams of rescue were foolish to the extreme. Insane, really - the product of a deluded mind.

@Gorgon

No...he wasn't awful, the slave, as his mouth worked over Titus' cock. But then again, when was such an act ever truly unpleasant - for the recipient? Titus was certainly not complaining. His hands had moved to lay atop that russet thatch of hair, lightly entwined therein, content to let Rufus do most of the work, his own hips sliding back and forth in mild rhythm with that red head. All Titus really had to do was to simply...enjoy it. He grew stiff, at once, and if the slave was not inclined to do a mystical sword swallowing act, that was fine too. Positioned as they were, Titus could fully enjoy the attention he was being given, and yet be at ease too. It was a good arrangement, one that had lent itself to very quick release, in circumstances that might call for such.

Now was not such a time however, and so, once fully aroused, physically and mentally, and saliva slickened, he was prepared to take things to a different stage of this ages old game. His fingers tightening just a bit in Rufus' hair, he slowed the motions of both of them, and pulled himself easily from the slave's mouth. Titus stepped back, and nodded to the bed. "Lay down." It was not a suggestion or an invitation. It was quite obviously a command, although his tone was fairly neutral, as there was no reason to suspect the slave would not comply.

@Sharpie

April, 74 CE

It was a day which in many respects was little different from any other. Most started early, and Caia would be up with the chickens. Down to the food stall she would go. It was the tiny universe of her daily existence. There she would jump right in, to get things going with the slaves, her father, and her younger sister - lighting the fires in the ovens and grill, preparing the ingredients, making sure all was in order for the arrival of their first customers - the young woman always worked quickly, efficiently and tirelessly. She took a quiet pride in her ability to be so handy, so useful to her father. She knew her mother would be proud of her too, she knew  it. It was a thread that kept her connected to the poor woman's memory, kept her mother alive and in her thoughts, every day. Sometimes, Caia was quite glad she'd been cursed. Not having a husband or children of her own to worry about allowed her the freedom to stay focused on her parents, both the living and the dead.

As the morning sun shifted and climbed a bit closer to its zenith, and the people hurrying about the busy market place were looking for a meal, Caia was helping to put a special comestible on the grill over the glowing hot embers. Minced beef, pounded together with millet, seasoned with garlic  and a bit of garum, then pressed into a flat patty was laid over the bars to cook. The smell was enticing. Bread was at hand upon which to stick the meat once done, as well as salt, and a pinch of precious pepper. It wasn't something everyone could afford, perhaps. But surely someone would find the aroma tempting enough to plonk down the price, to enjoy a truly savory treat.

Once the meat was sizzling, it was time for a trip to the market, to buy that which was needed to be fresh and couldn't be kept in a jar or a box or a bag or a basket. Having already spoken to her father about it, Caia would take the new slave that he had just purchased a few days ago with her. That way she could show Soraya around and point out where they normally did trade, who was trustworthy, and who to stay away from. It was handy for the slaves to be taught where and how to shop for what, seeing as, in a pinch, Caia or her sister might bot be free to dash off and find something that was needed right that very moment. Soraya would be a part of a team, and it was good that she know all the moving parts of how the food stall functioned.

Having washed her hands and patted her hair down, trying to look clean and neat, Caia approached the woman. Soraya was a few years older than she was. She came from very far away, originally. But had been with Romans for many years. Caia trusted that her father had made a wise purchase here. The woman seemed adept and a good worker, so far. Caia was not one to really stand so much on formalities, and some of the slaves had been working in the food stall for as long as she had, and truly seemed like a part of the family. So she offered the newcomer a smile and asked, "Are you ready for our little adventure? Here are two baskets. You take one and I'll take the other."

As always, even though the other woman was a slave, there was the tiniest bit of an awkward feeling over the marks on her face, and how Soraya might look at them. But Caia forcefully pushed such self-doubt aside and told herself that what she looked like didn't matter. As long as she worked hard and was a dutiful daughter, she would have value and true worth.

@AzraelGrim

Titus grinned at his cousin's reaction, but then fell quiet at those last words. Of course it was true. Women risked their lives to bring new life into the world, to give their husbands sons, and daughters. He sipped at his wine, and then his silence was split with a mischievous grin.

"Of course, though we do honor to our ancestors by making sure our lineage continues on into the future, and do our duty by our wives to father sons on them....that's not to say the more...pleasant...aspects of coupling with a woman can't be enjoyed in...other ways."

Perhaps their minds were running along the same track, for Titus too was thinking about how he was, for the moment, required to seek such pleasures outside the marital bed. Caesennia was far too swollen with their soon to be born child to bother her with requesting she satisfy his sexual needs. That's what slaves and prostitutes were for, right?

He looked over to Octavius with a smirk. "Or...are you too old for such things as well?" It seemed he was getting quite a lot of mileage from the difference in their ages, though it was hardly great.

"You know...we haven't been to a brothel together in...gods...forever!" He smiled, wondering if Octavious could be talked into such a diversion on this otherwise rather mundane afternoon.

@Gothic

Titus let his hands drop from Rufus' face, fingertips splaying to spread, as he ran his hands down each side of his neck, over the slave's collar bones, to his chest, massaging the pectorals, enjoying the feel of muscles there, though they were not as bulky as his own - built up as they were with years of wielding a weapon. His eyes remained fixed on Rufus' features, and then slowly his hands rose again, retracing a path upwards, one each side of his neck, almost sensuously, then into the fringe of his hairline at the back of his head. With a steady pressure, he pushed downwards with the edge of his hands, on those freckled shoulders, his intent clear, that the slave should lower himself, kneel, and from there, well...take matters in hand, or mouth, as the case may be.

@Sharpie

He let himself be pushed - but only because the need he suddenly had for humping Marcus brainless was beyond any sense of taking offense at what might have been deemed too cocky a thing to be otherwise tolerated. The space was tight. If a third body had tried to squeeze in, they would have been hard pressed to fit. But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Heatedly, Calvunus spun about and grabbed Marcus as soon as the door was pulled to behind him. Pressing him against the wooden wall, he covered his mouth in a breathless kiss, while grinding his hips against Marcus'.

"Actually," he growled as his mouth moved to nip at Marcus' neck. "I'm glad you don't have a set of tits." He was referring to his previous comment about hermaphroditism. "I can get my fill of boobs at home. It's this I've a fancy for right now." Upon saying "this" he had clenched his hand around Marcus' cock, rubbing it through the material of the man's tunic. He bit Marcus' neck roughly, his hand moving to work up under the hem, touching warm flesh.

@Gothic

His face fell at first, as it seemed the old man was not willing to spill the dirt on his eldest daughter's youthful escapades. But then the smile returned to the boy's face, as bribery was thrown out there as a possible means of getting him to open up. Gaius nodded happily and let himself be steered by the elder Gaius, to a temporary stall, that sold treats that were reserved for sale on only such festival days. Purchases made, the youth teased, "OK, now you have  to tell me at least one story, grandfather. Otherwise, you know you'll be scolded by my mother for these indulgences." He nodded at the sweets. But the grin on his face made it clear he was just joking.

"Or...if you don't wan to tell me anything about my mother, tell me about yourself!" The boy's grin became even more wicked. "Or were you a model of virtue from the day you were born?" He snickered.

Titus had been well schooled in being the stoic Roman male that was to be expected of a man in his position. But the completely unexpected sight of a man who had been a comrade in arms and a close friend, back in the day, and the sound of that familiar voice calling out to him, had his face shifting from mild boredom, to shocked incredulity, to surprised and glowing joy, as a smile split his face and he moved forward, arms extended for what was to be a great bear hug - male to male - if Alucio had not turned too shy to so greet a fellow soldier. "Alucio!" he said, as they came together and he demonstrated his sheer pleasure at being once more in the presence of his friend. What a coincidence!

He pulled back and looked with great fondness on the centurion's rugged, but still youthful, features. "Gods, it's been a donkey's age! What - at least...five years? And now here we are - possibly to be neighbors?!" His eyes focused the more on his old comrade's features and his voice steadied as he inquired, "Are you retired then?"

Alucio certainly wasn't too young for such. Yet neither was he too old to still be of great value is service to the Emperor. Titus wondered. Perhaps Alucio was turning his course to a political career, or trade, which wouldn't be all that unusual.

@Gorgon

Persephone let out a "Tch! of annoyance at the commotion caused by her drunken mistress. She watched with narrowed eyes as the two young men scrambled to come to Prima's aid. There was also a satisfied smirk at the sight of her young mistress's nethers all exposed.

Phaedo nodded his approval of Lexus' suggestion, and they between the two of them were able to get Prima all straightened out, her dress pulled down once more, but she was on the wrong side of the wall! "I don't think she'll be able to walk," he observed, rather needlessly. "We'll have to get her home." He looked up at the dark haired girl with the cat eyes. "Is it far? Can you lead the way?" He was still not completely sure if he was speaking to a slave or a citizen. But he felt in either case, she should be at least willing to be their guide.

Persephone practically snorted her disdain but nodded. "Yes, alright. Follow me." She was sorely disappointed that her evening of fun and frolic should be ending so soon. Then again...once they had reached the house and disposed of her mistress - in a suitable way, of course - perhaps she could 'show her gratitude' to the two young men. She wasn't averse to tackling such a challenge. In fact, the thought finally brought a smug little smile back to her lips.

Phaedo nodded at Lexus and asked, "Ready?" Between them, they were able to lift the girl, Phaedo at her legs and Lexus gripping under her arms. She was slender, but dead weight, and it was horribly awkward and difficult. Phaedo sighed. This was really no way to end what should have been the best night he'd had since being brought to the Venus. Hopefully, the home of these two young ladies would not be far. Hopefully....

@Atrice

Pheado had smiled shyly at what might have been taken as something of a compliment. Of course, Theodorus couldn't know if the slave had any intelligence or skill, or not. But Phaedo said nothing, for he was a slave and his place was to be available when wanted and nothing more. He walked behind the two older men, and wondered what it must be like to be one of the physicians that tended to the slaves of the ludii. Bloody and hectic, at times, he was sure. But interesting, nonetheless. More interesting than being shafted up the arse by a never ending string of strangers, in any case, and far more enjoyable. There were worse things a slave could be put to, surely, than prostitution. But as far as Phaedo was concerned, he felt no gratitude that his fate had not been worse, when he'd been sold. He felt little rancor either. It was what it was, and there was nothing he could do to change the fact that he was at the whim and mercy of the gods and free men.

He listened to Calvunus as they walked on, and he was quiet, as the thug suggested he and the medicus sit and eat. Phaedo knew the dangerous game the bouncer was playing, preparing to spend the domina's money, and his eyes widened a bit, at the cheek of the man. But of course, it wasn't his place to suggest Calvunus use more caution - and his brain! Phaedo just hoped that he'd be allowed to stay with them, and not be made to stand outside and wait, for he hoped the medicus might speak more about what he did, in so far as tending the fighters.

@Chevi

Calvunus chuckled. "Me? No. I brought him here to tend to some old fat fart who has a kink - likes to get his rocks off while he has the smell of blood in his nostrils or some such fucking nonsense." He shrugged casually. "Maybe he was a soldier once, back before he was as big around as a barrel."

Calvunus jerked a thumb back towards Phaedo. "I'm only playing nursemaid. Got to make sure no-one messes with the merchandise, unless they pay to." And it was no joke - the rivalry between the gangs that filled the Aventine extended to trying to do mischief to one anothers' properties, and that included human property as well.

"He's worth a bit, because he's so pretty, and very good manners." Calvunus snorted. Clearly he didn't place a high value on courtesy himself.

They had reached the open air entrance to the wine and food bar and Calvunus' thoughts immediately turned to filling his belly. Unfortunately, he was, in fact, broke. At least, his personal funds were tapped out. There was however the fee that had been paid over by the customer with the fetish. Technically it belonged to his boss and should have been remitted untouched into her grasping hand. On the other hand, there was likely to be a game of dice he could shoulder his way into, and surely, he could use the domina's money to recoup not only the price of a meal but also make a little profit beyond?

"Come. Let's sit. I see a few stools over there." He pointed. "This is on me. A token of my appreciation for our future partnership." He clapped Theodorus on the back with a big smile on his still handsome face. He was making a great assumption. But perhaps the medicus would feel it would be foolish to look a gift horse - or meal - in the mouth.

@Chevi

Titus grinned at the quote. Obviously the man seated next to him was educated. He looked prosperous enough. But you never could tell. Some of the nouveau riche in the city were appalling with their lack of even the most basic of true literacy. "He was always playing both sides of the field," Titus quipped, referring to said 'King" of the gods. "Must be why he was content to save Aeneas' hide yet set him down here." He snorted and shook his head.

He paid up when the wine arrived and lifted his cup, with the briefest of salutes to his neighbor on the bench. "No matter. It's wet." He observed and thirstily tossed half the beaker back in one go. He smacked his lips. "I think I've grown used to drinking whatever is at hand, even if it tastes like horse piss. That's not good. I'll have to make sure I lay on something of the best quality, once we begin to move. My wife and I, and our children. I'm buying a summer villa for her. To get them out of this heat."

He gave the man beside him a more scrutinizing gaze. "You aren't a wine merchant by any chance? Or perhaps you know one you would give a good reference to?

@Sharpie

Calvunus sank gratefully down onto the couch like bed, or bed like couch, and leaned back, his eyes finally closing. His face was shadowed but still. He wasn't going to let a little thing like being mauled by a fucking dog get to him. As they waited for the medicus to arrive, he said to Helios, "Thank you my friend, for not screaming or passing out at the sight of my manly blood." He gave the faintest of chuckles. "You have bigger balls than I'd have given you credit for, Helios."

He did wonder if Marcus was about. The head bouncer should be around, and on duty. But that didn't mean he was. Marcus could usually find a good excuse to be elsewhere, if the mood took him. Calvunus really hoped no-one would put a whisper in his friend's ear about what was going on. He didn't want to deal with Marcus at the moment. What he'd really like was to get shit-faced drunk and pass out, so he would have to feel the throbbing pain in his thigh. Perhaps the medicus would have some drug that would do something similar.

"Be a good man and fetch me some wine, hm?" he asked, eyes still closed. "And if you run into Marcus fucking Falco, don't mention this, OK? I don't need him chewing me out. I've been chewed on enough already this evening."

@Atrice

Titus chuckled. "I only remember you always seemed to have a runny nose. But perhaps that cleared up by the time you were off to your first posting." With seven years between them, he'd only been just entering the first phase of his own military training when Octavius had left Rome for the first time. Certainly, once they'd reunited to where they actually spent time together, in the army, his cousin had become a man in every sense of the word, and a skilled soldier.

"I'm sure you were though," he went on with a smirk, referring to whether Octavius had been a brat like his son was now. "Weren't we all?"

He then nodded in the direction of that part of the market where the slaves were auctioned off. "Well while we're here, might as well have a look at what's on offer in the way of slaves." With a hand to the back of Octavius' shoulder, he began to change course slightly and move in that direction.

@Gothic@Sarah@Sharpie

It was an effort not to come. Phaedo literally had not been in such a position, that he could enjoy and feel and build to a climax that was one of true, lustful desire, and not born of simple physical reaction to stimulation. Those who came to the Venus came to be pleasured, not to give it. Yet the body being what it is, there had certainly been times when, despite the circumstances, he had reached an orgasm too. Most of the men who he'd served would not have cared a fig that he had or hadn't. The renting of another man's body was an entirely self-centered act. It was normal. Phaedo expected nothing else.

In his prior home, things had been a bit different. At first, he had been objectified by his aging master as a source of pleasure only, for himself, and his wife too, who quickly joined in the escapades. But over time, they both had come to see Phaedo as more of a toy, to be quarreled and fought over. This had led to a mild competition of sorts, to see who could be the "favorite" of the comely slave - a sickening and tense battle of enduring their sexual exploits, each trying to be more seductive and alluring than the other. It was really no wonder the master's heir had quickly gotten rid of the handsome young slave. The whispers of all those shenanigans had been appalling to his sense of morality and good old Roman virtues.

But this...this was entirely a novel experience for Phaedo - so much so that he was, for once, actively trying, and finding it hard, to concentrate on the pleasure he could provide, versus the pleasure he felt. The rough skin of Alucio's hand on his cock was invigorating. The solid column of his cock as it found its way deeper and deeper inside his arse was almost unbearable, in the best way possible. Their bodies were the proverbial eight legged creature, all limbs and torsos intertwined and heaving, and when Alucio grunted that he was ready, Phaedo couldn't help it. He was ready too, so very ready, and he came with spurts of semen flowing over Alucio's fingers and his own stomach, slicking their skin as they still rocked together. His own fingertips were hard, biting into the taut muscles of biceps, but making little headway against their strength. His eyes remained open. If this was the only time the gods would allow him such bliss, he would not shut out the sight of this man as he came as well.

Almost undoubtedly imperceptible in the dim light of the oil lamp, tears formed at the corners of the slave's eyes. His lashes dampened and a faint sheen touched the green irises. But a smile was on those full lips. Phaedo was happy. For at least one moment, he hadn't yet contemplated the abject grief that might come on the far side of this heady summit.

@Gorgon

"Taking off your clothes will do for a start," Titus replied with a smirk playing about his generous lips. He eyed the slave as he did as he was bidden, enjoying the sight of the younger man's well made body. He wasn't the type of man to copulate wildly with no regard for who he was sticking his cock into, with the exception perhaps of the sometimes brutal celebrations of victory after a hard fought battle. Even then, he showed restraint, typically, and tried to be cognizant of the need to show self-control in front of his men. But in a situation such as this, where he was totally at his leisure to enjoy the act of sexual gratification, he saw no need to hurry nor to deny himself the visual pleasure, and the arousal stemming from it, of a comely form.

He had taken another long sip of the warm wine, and once again set the cup aside, so that, almost as soon as the slave was nude, he clasped his face with two strong hands, long fingers curved about well defined jawbone, pulling Rufus close. It was not a tender kiss. It was forceful enough to lay a claim to what had been lent to him temporarily. But it was passionate as well - the passion of the body, lust, which pulled at him, from the center of his core. He needed this, another distraction. Perhaps Eros would look favorably on their coupling and put in a good word for him with Somnus. Perhaps somehow, he could wear himself out physically with this slave, and spiritually find some peace of mind, long enough to sleep a few hours.

@Sharpie

Phaedo waited, expectantly, for it was a subject that was infinitely fascinating to him - love. It was an emotion he'd never yet experienced, and when Ario spoke of Decimus - no doubt the name of the one who had 'plucked Ario form the arena' he listened even more closely. He answered the question readily, his face animated as he replied, "I have no experience of love. It's why I find anything written about love - poetry, plays, literature - so interesting, I guess. There's many shades of the same color, it seems, and I wonder...what is it truly like? To look upon one...you love. To feel the fire they so often speak of...and then perhaps to feel the chill creep in, as the fire dwindles."

His gaze was on Ario's face again, gauging the man's reaction to what he was saying. Ario had experienced that push - pull of feelings, and something fading away into friendship. It might have been a bit discouraging for the younger man. But...he had youth still on his side - the hopeful spirit of youth, and an untested heart.

"I dream about it. I've dreamed about it for years." And the longing was plain in his voice as he said those words. "That I would meet someone who  I could love and who would love me in return. Something...passionate....yet enduring. I would not let that flame expire."

And there was another aspect of youth shining forth, so commonly expressed - the thought that somehow their own experience would be unique, different, a first - and that they would be the one to carve the correct path forward, as if any man or woman could ever hope to control even a tiny shred of their destiny.

And of course, his own dreams of rescue were only that - dreams. He'd never thought about what would happen beyond that magical day - whether freedom might come to him as well. And then, what? Could one really love - truly love - and be subordinate? Was equality a portion - perhaps the most important portion - of the equation that led to something which would in fact endure?

Phaedo probably would not have asked the next question, but he had lost a bit of his sense of how he was the paid for entertainer here, and Ario a respected patron. "And have you not sought love elsewhere? Since... since...well, I guess..."

He was thinking of course - of what Ario had said earlier, about being 'plucked' from the arena. The parallel between them had been something like a marked coincidence, but then Phaedo's mind had hurried on, all swept up in the idea of reading poetry to a client instead of simply fucking. Now it loomed again, large, and he was emboldened to end his question.

"... since you were...freed?"

@Kit

Apparently, it did not please him, to be hurried along into the clean, simple tunic. Titus had set the cup of heated wine down, in order to facilitate the removal of the first tunic. Now he picked it up again, his eyes still on the slave, watching the shifting expressions on the fair face. Once again, he reached out a hand to touch Rufus' hair, taking a strand between his fingers, his eyes shifting to look at it for a moment. "And where did you get this, hm? Your mother? Or your father?" He let it go, as he took a sip of the wine, then half turned away, and reached almost lazily to undo and unwind the cloth that covered his groin, letting it fall to the floor. He was apparently far less neat with his things than the slave was trying to be.

@Sharpie