Tempus Fugit Ch. 02

***

I was having a wonderful dream. It was the last trip Aurilaine and I had taken together, camping at the base of the Crystal Cliffs on Ellison's World. The rising temperature of the morning made the cliffs sing. Aurilaine was giving me the blowjob of my life, the rising suns creating a crown of white gold around her pale blonde hair, shimmering as her head bobbed up and down on my cock and bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I woke up as I came. I was not on Ellison's World at the Crystal Cliffs. I was in Rome, in a small suite at Augustus's palace. And it was raven-haired Helen, who I'd saved from certain rape and almost-certain murder on a road outside Rome, and not platinum blonde Aurilaine who smiled at me as she swallowed my load.

"Good morning, Helen. Is it Roman custom to wake up guests by sucking them off?"

"Perhaps," she said. "Besides, I thought I'd pleasure you." Helen looked at me with a mix of impishness and lust. My dick stirred, but would need more time to rise once again. It was really too bad; there was nothing sexier than a freshly-fucked woman and I could feel myself growing fond of Helen.

In between the bouts of sex and a few hours of sleep the night before, we talked and I learned something of Helen's story. It turned out that the lady I'd rescued and delivered to Augustus's household was none other than Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Marc Antony and Cleopatra. The Cleopatra. That was 20 years ago. Helen's mother Meriamun had been a slave in the palace at Alexandria and had given birth just a few weeks after Selene and her twin brother Alexander Helios were born. Cleopatra had taken a liking to Meriamun and Helen had grown up alongside her future mistress.

"It's not bad most of the time," Helen said. "But she can be quite the spoiled little bitch. Augustus is trying to marry her off to the King of Numidia. He's finalizing things now."

"Interesting," I said. If I was going to start navigating the shoals of Roman politics, I had to start somewhere. I mentioned something else that had been nagging at me, something confirmed as probable by Maggie. "You look a lot like Selene, you know. Like you could be related."

Helen walked toward a bowl of warm, scented water, her luscious ass swaying as she did. "It's entirely possible we are. Mother suspects I might be Antony's as well. She said he'd stick it in anything and he stuck it in her more than once."

There was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a stone-faced slave with a folded linen bundle.

"Master Tiberius requests you break his fast with him, sir."

"Let him know I will dress and join him momentarily."

The slave left, leaving another slave waiting by the door. The bundle was a particularly nice tunic. With some help from Helen, the scented water helped wash most of the smell of sex off my body.

"Perhaps when you return, we can try the leaping lion," she said.

"Leaping lion?"

The still-naked Helen got on all fours on the bed, raising her ass and swinging it seductively. I smiled.

"We use a canine metaphor where I come from," I said. Helen giggled.

***

The slave at the door took me to the peristyle, a courtyard surrounded by a roofed porch at the center of all Roman houses. Tiberius sat at a small table, a grape in his fingers, staring moodily at the garden in the courtyard. A slightly younger man sat with him. More slaves hovered around, waiting their masters' pleasure.

I sent a mental command to Maggie: "Run a facial recognition on the younger man, along with any available biographical info on him and Tiberius both."

"In a jiffy boss. Some of us got rest last night after all."

"Shut up."

The men rose as I approached. Tiberius and I clasped forearms in the Roman fashion.

"Tiberius, thank you for the invitation," I said. "It's a privilege to greet you properly."

"It is a privilege to thank you properly," he said, "though my stepfather will take care of that soon. Selene is an important member of the household, and it would have been terrible had harm come to her."

Maggie came online. The younger man was Tiberius's brother, Drusus. According to the information Maggie had available, Tiberius was 22, his brother 18. She added, helpfully, that based on the information Helen had given me that she herself was 20. "So she's not jailbait," Maggie said.

I told Tiberius and Drusus something about myself, repeating what I'd told Helen during our pillow talk. I was an exile from a distant land, hoping to make a new life for myself in Rome. All of that had the benefit of being true, minus some details. I figured Helen would be asked to report what I'd told her—it is what I would have done, and I wasn't about to proclaim I was from the future and be treated like some madman or radical prophet. I knew what they did to dangerous prophets here. There was one in Judaea who had an appointment with a cross in about 50 years.

Mostly, we made small talk. It was hard not to like the brothers. Tiberius was on the gloomy side but showed little of the paranoid and cruel man he'd reportedly become in later life. He spoke of preparations underway for an expedition to the east, to deal with Rome's rival Parthia; the burden weighed heavily upon him. Drusus was eager to start his career and squeeze the world by the balls. He reminded me a lot of myself at that age.

When we were finished eating, Tiberius said, "Augustus will receive you at mid-day. Helen knows the way to our baths, if you wish to use them."

"I will. I have formal military dress of my own land, but no proper Roman clothes yet, I'm afraid. I'd planned to purchase some."

"Wear your native dress. Augustus enjoys such things. As to Roman clothes, Drusus or myself can help you. There are any number of tailors hoping to ingratiate themselves."

I returned to my rooms to find Helen laying on the bed, still undressed. Without a word, she rolled onto her stomach and stuck her ass in the air.

"Have you had a chance to recover your energy?" she asked with a sly smile.

"You're about to find out."

I was hard instantly. I stripped off my tunic. I kissed her back, cupping her breasts and tweaking her sensitive nipples. I reached between her legs. She was already soaking. I wondered what she'd been doing while I was gone. I rubbed the tip of my penis along her wet folds and heard a muffled moan. I love foreplay but Helen was ready and so was I. I thrust into her and she reared back to meet me. I took hold of her hips and drove in and out, giving her pussy the pounding she so clearly wanted.

It didn't take her long to come, hard. I kept up a steady pace and she came twice more before I gave up my seed. She collapsed onto the bed and I on her, enjoying her soft feminine body beneath mine. I rolled to the side after a moment before my weight began to feel uncomfortable.

She stroked my cheek. "My lion," she said.

"Augustus wants to see me at mid-day. Tiberius mentioned something about the baths?"

"I can take you there," Helen said. "They're private baths for the princeps and his family, of course, but as their guest you will be welcome to use them. You should try the public baths sometime, though. They are quite enjoyable as well." Princeps being Augustus's official title.

The baths were enjoyable. A hot plunge followed by a cold one, and then Helen cleaned me in the Roman fashion—a bath in olive oil with a scraping from something called a strigil to remove the oil and the dirt with it. I felt thoroughly refreshed.

Back at my rooms, I dressed for my audience. Helen "helped," largely by teasing me. She was impressed, especially with all the gold braid and medals. I attached my katana in its scabbard to my belt and started to do the same with its companion short sword, called a wakizashi, when I had an idea. I told Helen and she approved.

***

Accompanied by Helen, I presented myself at Augustus's audience chamber. I handed a guard my katana and wakizashi and was ushered in. Augustus was a solidly-built man, though he looked somewhat frail. Information from Maggie, confirmed by Tiberius during our breakfast, said that Augustus had recovered from serious illness fairly recently. Serious enough that he almost gave up power. Next to him sat a dignified woman that could only have been his wife Livia, mother of Tiberius and Drusus. Her sons flanked her, and Selene, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else, stood with them.

I saluted smartly. "It is an honor to meet you, princeps. Your name is known far and wide."

"What brings you to Rome, Demmus Alfer?"

"Exile and the desire to find a new life."

"You were a soldier?"

"I was. Unfortunately I made political enemies. Rather than rebel I chose to leave."

"Admirable. Civil war is a terrible thing. It seems I am in your debt. Marcus Metellus and Helen have spoken highly of your bravery, and my physician Moussa says Gaius may yet live thanks to your quick action."

"I thank you, princeps. I did what I had to do, nothing more."

Augustus waved his hand dismissively. "I am in your debt, and you shall be rewarded. Helen is now yours. She is most hard-working and I believe you will appreciate her service."

I already did, and was sure Augustus knew that damn well. Selene, looking very resentful, presented me with a sealed papyrus sheet proclaiming that Helen was now my property.

"And I have a gift for you, princeps, if you will permit me. If your guard will allow it, I would like my short sword."

Augustus nodded and the guard handed me the wakizashi, a weapon roughly half the length of a Roman gladius. I in turn handed it to Augustus, hilt first. He admired the fine work on the hilt and scabbard.

"It was given to me as a gift by an old friend, and I would like you to have it, princeps. The blade is sharp as obsidian and will never dull or shatter."

"I thank you. I would like you to come to a dinner I am hosting celebrating the return of my son-in-law, Marcus Agrippa, if you are able."

"Of course," I said, trying not to be star struck. A chance to meet the victor of one of history's most famous battles? Only Helen or Aurilaine could get me harder.

"Excellent. I will have you sent for at the appointed time. And if I have need of your soldiering skills?"

"They are yours, princeps."

And with that, my audience was at an end.

***

Alexandria, Egypt 20 BCE

The tomb was silent as the hooded figure carrying the box stepped through the shimmering portal. The hooded figure opened the sarcophagus at the center of the tomb; subjectively it had been a few minutes since they'd seen his occupant, dying of malaria in a city far from his home. For the body in the sarcophagus it had been 300 years.

Alexander the Great still lay in the honey that had preserved his body for the journey back from Babylon. The hooded figure scanned it.

"Tissue degradation within acceptable parameters," the hooded figure said.

The box spoke.

"Excellent," it said. "Gather the necessary tissue samples. Then we will leave for our laboratory."

"As you wish," the hooded figure said.