The Trident

"Augusta, allow me to present Gaius Antonius Saturninus, the poet, son of Senator Lucius Antonius Saturninus, Governor of Judea and his stepmother Messalina Severa."

The Empress smile graciously. "Yes, I have read some of your poems; very impressive; your growing reputation is well deserved. You must come to our Alban Festival next March and give us a reading. And you, my dear," she said to Messalina, "are so beautiful that no one will pay any attention to me."

"No one could outshine you, my Empress."

Domitia turned to the woman next to her. "This young lady is my husband's niece, Julia Flavia."

She, then, took Messalina's hand. "Come, you must sit next to me or else no one will even know I'm here."

As Gaius turned to follow a hand touched his shoulder.

"We meet again," Julia said.

"Excuse me?"

A mock pout formed on her lips. "My, you don't even remember seeing me at the amphitheater?"

"Yes, of course; how could I not? But I am amazed, Augusta, that you would have noticed me."

"One of Rome's most famous young poets, how could I not? You are too humble."

"I'm flattered."

She gave a sultry smile. "I will send a litter for you tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting."

She took his arm. "And now we must hurry before the curtain descends. You will sit next to me and I'll be the envy of every woman in the theater.

Chapter VI

Too hot for a nightshirt, Gaius slept in the nude, the covers thrown to the side. He had drunk too much wine after the show, and now he dreamed that his stepmother had come into his bedroom and taken off her clothes. Naked she climbed on the bed, straddled him and grabbed his hard cock guiding it inside her. She was tight, almost painfully so. It was so real. He reached out and gripped naked hips and forced his cock in farther. He heard a faint whimper. Grabbing a handful of hair he pulled her head down and buried his tongue in her wet, open mouth with unrestrained passion.

The need to come was an overpowering ache. Rolling over on her he pounded her brutally, the slapping of their wet flesh audible. Then he came so forcefully that his head felt like it was going to explode.

Wet with sweat he rolled over onto his back and passed out.

Y

Gaius had just finished brushing his teeth, with the frayed end of an olive twig, after a light breakfast of bread, cheese and olives when Ajax informed him that an imperial litter had arrived for him.

Eight muscular slaves stood by as he drew back the curtain.

Julia Flavia reclined on silk cushions of various bright colors, naked, her dark hair fixed in a long thick braid down her back. She wore no jewelry or makeup.

When he got in she ordered him to take off his clothes and lie back.

"I'll rub against you, but don't enter me."

She lay on top, her breasts soft and cool against his chest. She smelled of wildflowers, her breath fragrant with mint.

She moved slowly, tantalizingly, her long fingernails dancing lightly over his flesh.

He thrust upward with his hips trying to enter her.

"No, you don't want me badly enough yet. But you will."

After a space of ten or fifteen minutes the litter stopped and was put down. Julia threw back the curtain revealing that they were on a paved grey granite interior court before the entrance of a large, private bath complex.

Naked, she ran toward the entrance. "Catch me and I'm yours."

Inside, Gaius was confronted by walls of yellow marble, green-veined marble and green and purple porphyry whose exotic origins ranged from all over the known world. Everywhere the floors were covered with a rich profusion of colorful geometric mosaics. Some were black and white showing maritime figures like fish and sea horses while others displayed erotic scenes of lesbian and homosexual acts.

Beyond the entrance was an open courtyard with a large swimming pool surrounded by a portico. Naked slaves of both sexes, chosen for their physical beauty, sat or reclined around the pool waiting to service the desires of the wealthy patrons.

Gaius walked within the portico and entered a central passageway between two changing rooms to a trepidarium. Slowly he eased himself in the pool of waist high lukewarm water. There were few patrons this early in the morning. An elderly couple lounged in the water while two prepubescent girls, probably their granddaughters, swam about giggling shyly to each other in the presence of the handsome youth.

For a moment Gaius observed the lithe bodies of the girls and fantasized fucking both of them at the same time. One of the girls wandered close to him with a sly, knowing look, then swam back to her playmate who looked at Gaius over her shoulder giggling.

Rising out of the water with a semi-erection, Gaius went to a side room where a naked slave gave him a rub down with fragrant oils, kneading his hard-muscled flesh with expert care. After the attendant had removed excess oil with a strigil, Gaius took another dip in the trepidarium; afterward a slave put a pair of sandals, with wooden soles, on his feet. Circulating through several large caldariums he came upon one guarded by two praetorians who motioned him in. Julia was lying on a towel covered stone bench next to a heated pool, her plump body red and sweaty from the heat of the hypocaust.

"Fuck me now, Gaius."

Dripping with sweat, Gaius pushed her legs up until her knees were against her slick breasts exposing her tight cunt lips. He positioned the head of his cock against the soft curve and slowly pressed inward feeling a nice tight resistance.

Moaning, she gripped his ass cheeks and pulled until he was fully inside. Locking her legs around him she rocked back and forth beneath him, humping, snorting and grinding.

Twisting her hair in his hands, he forced his tongue in her mouth, smothering her cries of anguish and lust.

"Hurt me! Hurt me!" she gasped, tearing her mouth away from his.

Gaius placed first one nipple then the other between his teeth biting hard. Rising up he backhanded her. When he stopped her eyes were glowing as she licked a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

Her cunt tighten around his cock as a long sigh came from deep in her throat.

Chapter VII

Gaius was eating breakfast in one of the townhouse's gardens near a rectangular pool with a natural rock fountain. A bust of Minerva was posed on a Grecian column alongside the stone path that led to the stoa that encircled the whole.

Porcia approached leading Justina.

Gaius chewed thoughtfully on a salty olive and studied the young girl as they approached.

Her hair was no longer a rat's nest but had been neatly trimmed and brushed to a glimmering gold. Beneath, blue eyes sparkled with health and intelligence in a tanned face. She wore a clean, brown tunic that hugged a lithe, shapely figure that promised to be more so in years to come. As with house slaves she was sandaled.

Gaius spit a pit onto the lawn.

"Well, she does look human -- but with her that could be deceptive. Leave us," Gaius said.

Uninvited, Justina pulled out a chair and sat down. Reaching over she took a small bowl of figs off his tray and began munching them.

"Hungry?"

"Yes, you don't feed your slaves for crap."

"I feed my slaves very well."

"Not as well as you feed yourself." She helped herself to a chunk of bread.

"Care for some wine?" he asked, handing her his glass.

"Thanks."

Gaius watched her eat while he chewed on olives.

"Could I have a drink?"

"Help yourself." She nodded.

He paused with the glass to his lips. "You don't have anything, do you?"

She nailed him with her eyes. After a moment, "Do you beat your slaves?"

"No, slaves are too valuable to mistreat them -- so you don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried. I'm not your slave."

"Then what in the hell are you?"

She shrugged and took the glass from his hand.

"You water your wine too much."

"Obviously. I'm not a drunk."

"Drink less, enjoy it more."

Gaius was shaking his head when he saw Ajax approaching.

"Master, the actor Paris is at the door asking to see you."

"Show him in, Ajax," Gaius said, with a bemused expression. Then turning to Justina said,"Go."

Soon the swarthy, well-shaped figure of Paris appeared coming with hurried steps through the stoa. His face was haggard.

"Gaius, thank you for seeing me this early, unannounced."

"Of course, but what is the problem? You look like shit."

"Is it safe to talk?" He glanced at Justina who was still munching on figs.

"Don't overly concern yourself with her. She's an idiot who doesn't even understand simple commands."

He nodded to a chair.

Paris hesitated then sat down, brushing beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was wearing a red tunic with gold trim.

"I'm in deep shit, Gaius. I've traveled all night from the Alban villa where I and my troupe of dancers have been staying for several months entertainng the empress, her entourage, staff, amici and guests. We were brought there by Attica, the wife of Veiento. She had a crush on me, but I'd been putting the old bitch off. However, I'm afraid the empress developed a similar crush on me also -- but nothing happened between us. Gods know I'm not big enough fool to pump the emperor's wife. But, out of jealousy, Attica began spreading rumors that the empress was having sex with me.

When Domitian returned to Tiberius' palace from the Danube after defeating the Chatti he was told of the rumors by Veiento and other informers like that blind bastard Messallinus. The empress came to me last evening to warn me that she was to be exiled and that my life was in danger. If I'm caught the emperor will have me killed. I---oh, this is awful; I didn't want to put you on the spot, Gaius; yet, I had no one else to turn to. But, now that my head has cleared a little, I realize how wrong it was of me to involve you in my problem. Forgive me. I had no right. I have acted cowardly."

Paris rose to leave.

"Hold on. You can stay here until we figure out an escape route for you. Runaway slaves always seek shelter in Subura until they can be shipped out of the country, but you, my friend, are too well known. The emperor has spies everywhere who will be looking for you and who will be well rewarded if they find you. You won't last an hour on the street. I'll have Fabius show you to one of our guest rooms for now. You are no doubt exhausted and will need sleep. Tonight we will work out a plan."

"I can't thank you enough, Gaius. I will forever be in your debt."

Gaius motioned for Fabius, who stood waiting at a discreet distance.

"Take this gentleman to one of our guest rooms, and if there's anything he needs see to it."

"Yes, Master."

"What are you going to do?" Justina asked, when they were gone.

"Haven't a clue."

"You know, of course, if you're caught helping him they'll make garum out of you."

"There's probably a reward for informers."

"A good reason for you to be nice to me."

Y

Flavia Julia still lived on in the family mansion of the Flavians on the Quirinal Hill even after her husband, Sabinus, had been sentenced and put to death by Domitian's Prefect of the City for sedition.

At the gate Gaius was stopped by two praetorian guards who demanded to know his business.

He held up a thin volume.

The augusta wanted a copy of my poems."

"And you are?"

"Gaius Antonius Saturninus."

The second praetorian snickered and, leaning over, whispered in the first praetorian's ear causing a lewd smile to spread across his face.

"Yes, I'm sure the augusta will want to see you."

He turned and called to a slave triming Gallica shrubs.

"Tell Flavia Julia that Gaius Antonius Saturninus wishes to see her."

Several minutes later the slave returned and nodded.

The guard motioned Gaius through, and he followed the bald-headed slave into a large vestibulum, through a lavish fauces to a decorative atrium with life-sized busts of Flavian ancestors sitting in niches. Beyond, he passed through a tablinum to a peristyle, then through a series of halls past sunrooms and out onto a honey-colored stone patio with a dozen marble steps that led down to a spacious manicured lawn. At the end of a long ornamental fish pool, in the shade of bay trees, he saw Julia seated at a silver table with two slaves in waiting.

"Gaius," she greeted, with a thin smile. "How nice to see you."

"I wanted to see you again."

"That's sweet, but now is not a good time."

"Then -- the rumor about exiling the empress?"

"It's not a rumor."

"What of Paris? I've heard nothing."

"Nor will you."

"What do you mean? I would have thought --"

"According to Attic's husband, Veiento, Domitian has decided to be lenient in this matter. The emperor wishes the public to see his reign as one based on morality and compassion -- not cruelty. Since no adultery took place -- only the thought of such on the part of the empress, according to her confession -- the emperor knows that punishing Paris would only be seen by the wags as an admission that such in fact did take place. However, the empress was guilty of adultery of the heart, so for the sake of propriety he has decided to exile her to one of the imperial estates for a suitable time, and let that be the end of it."

Julia glanced at the volume in Gaius' hand.

"What is that?"

"Some of my poems. I've dedicated them to you."

She took the volume and glanced through it.

Though zephyrs bring Olympian
fragrance of undying flowers,
your mortal breath to me sweeter still
than all the hallowed gardens of the gods.

"This is so nice, Gaius; you have made me immortal; I shall have to find a suitable way to thank you."

Y

"The age demands shit, Gaius." Paris took a sip of his Falernian. "The artist must kiss ass if he is ever to make it. Look at Statius and Martial, great poets forced to spin out their words like spider webs in order to capture the emperor's praise. It's disgusting."

"Yes, you're right," Gaius said. I've kissed my share of ass, too."

Paris held out his cup for a slave to refill it.

"I hear Domitian's going to pass a law forbidding profanity in poetry."

"Humph, that would have been the end of Catullus:

O Memmius, for a long time you made me supine, suck cock well and also slowly with that whole shaft. But, as far as I can tell, you all were in the same situation: for you were stuffed with a cock no less hard."

"I doubt Catullus would have taken first prize at the Alban Festival." Paris grinned.

"Or our Martial with this:

Ponticus, you only fuck your fist.
That complaisant left hand is your sole mistress.
No big deal, you say?
Believe me pal, it's a major crime --
More than you can imagine.
Horatius fucked just once, and sired three sons;
Mars did the same, and Ilia bore twins.
If either guy had jerked off in his hand,
Down the drain with natural increase!
Mother Nature is displeased. She chides you:
'The sticky stuff that's dripping from your fingers
Is a human being, Ponticus.'

At least that crap I dedicated to Julia gave me an excuse to see her and discover what Domitian had in store for you."

"And you have taken a great weight off my shoulders. I consulted a sorcerer once who told me I would die a violent death while still young. I thought his prophecy was coming true."

"Well, what do you intend to do now?"

"I think it best to get out of Rome for awhile. Take my troupe on a southern tour."

"I'll drink to that."

Y

It was raining strands of pearls. Domitian, in one of his recurring melancholy moods, stood in a portico of the palace that overlooked the Circus Maximus, a little to his left, and the Forum, more to his right. Silver mist veiled the farthest reaches of Rome.

He had just finished a heavy noon meal and was taking a solitary walk, as was his custom, through the myriad corridors and walkways of the palace constructed for Tiberius. Normally, he would have preferred to walk outside in one of the neighboring gardens left over from Nero's grand Golden House and to have savored spring with its fragrance of fresh blooming flowers. But, then, the sound of the rain he found pleasant and soothing, too, as it dripped from the eaves and gurgled down ruts through the vine-covered rocky cliff just beyond.

The Circus Maximus was empty. He could still see the tracks left by chariots from the previous day where his newly instituted purples and golds had raced winning several victories.

After a moment his thoughts turned to a letter Julia had recently written him asking him to let her move back into the palace. She could no longer tolerate living where her husand, Sabinus, had been forced to commit suicide at his orders. Domitian was fond of his niece, but worried how it would look with the empress still in exile. Already rumors abounded that he was having incestuous relations with her.

As he muddled over the dilemma his chamberlain, Parthenius, approached.

"Emperor, I have just received a disturbing dispatch from a reliable source that Antonius, camped near Moguntiacum, has seduced the legions of the fourteenth Gemina and the twentieth Rapax to support a rebellion against you along with an alliance of several Germanic tribes."

Lucius Antonius Saturninus, Domitian was thinking, formerly his Governor designate to Judea, lately transferred to Germania Superior to keep the Dacians from making forays below the Danubius.

"The man's a flaming queer, Emperor. Word has it that he deeply resented your Lex Scantinia banning high born men from taking it up the ass -- as I understand it, Antonius' favorite position. Of course, the man has always, I'm told, nurtured an ambition to be first citizen of Rome."

Instantly, Domitian's melancholy disappeared. Like his late brother Titus, he was only happy when faced with a crisis to challenge him.

Rubbing his hands briskly, he said, "Call a committee of my most trusted advisors and top generals to assemble as soon as possible. Word must be sent to General Bucius Lappius Maximus."

"As you command, my Lord."

Y

"Gaius, I'm so bored. Is there nothing we can do?"

"You know what I'd like to do."

"Too dangerous. Which reminds me, I am furious that you offered asylum to Paris. You could have gotten us all crucified if Domitian had found out."

Gaius moved up close to Messalina so that he could see the flecks of gold in her emerald eyes.

"Too dangerous? Which means you would if it wasn't?"

She ignored his question and took a step back coming against the wall of the sunroom. Gaius stepped closer and placed his hands on her breasts, thumbing her nipples through the thin, silk fabric.

"No," she gasped weakly. "If we're caught --"

Gaius kissed her, pulling her close. He rubbed the hardness of his cock against her belly.

"The servants --" She broke away from him and turned to stare out a window that overlooked the garden. Slowly, the tips of her fingers lightly touched her lips, then moved down over a breast.

"You said . . ." she hesitated. "There were places where we could see private matches?"

Gaius adjusted his cock.

"Yes."

"Where we could go to tonight?"

"Yes."

Y

A light rain fell. Bearers hurriedly carried the litter through the dusk-gathering streets past the paltry houses of the poor incongruously mixed among the ostentatious townhouses of the wealthy, then out into the country.

"Where are we going, Gaius?"

"To the villa of Oppius Petillius, a wealthy freedman, who made millions in shipping, ranching and a dozen other enterprises. He has his own theater where he puts on boxing matches. Castor and Pollux will be fighting. They're two pros with scores of fights between them."

Gaius pulled back the curtain slightly.

"We're almost there."

"Have you gone to many of these?"