The Cubicle

by Pita Patter

Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/pitapattr

Disclaimer: Wish they were mine, but they belong to Alliance, darn it!

Author's Notes:

Story Notes: I did a bit of reserach, but there might be some historical inaccuracies. I apologise in advance.


The sound of his sandals on the stone pavement echoed on the dark street. No torches were lit, but the moon was full, reflecting gently on the fresh snow. The man shivered a bit and pulled the woollen hood closer. He did not mind the cold. He had seen worse in the wars in the north. As a matter of fact, with the cold he could wear the woollen cloak and a hood to hide his true identity. It would not do for such an important man to walk alone in that portion of the city at night. He was not truly alone, for the stipator was following him, unseen. A good attendant and excellent friend, he though. Still, it was better not to be recognised.

Some could say it was guilt that made him hide his face. Others would point that it could also be fear of what he was, fear of facing his deepest secrets, the abhorrent reality. It did not matter. He was headed to that arena, to confront his innermost truth, and those judgements were not his concern, not at all. All that he knew is that he did not want to be recognised, and he admitted to himself that that he was way too careful. Still, he wouldn't do it any other way, so he kept on moving furtively in the dark streets of mighty Rome at night.

Not that all that secrecy was really needed. He was doing nothing illegal. Not strictly, anyway, but the Senate had passed new laws and was discussing other ones. Nowadays, such places were frowned upon, especially the type of activity he was seeking.

He reached his destination without any incidents. Oddly enough, the place looked a lot like any ordinary domus. He stopped at the front door, looked over his shoulders and located, amidst the shadows, the hiding guard that protected him. Only then did he ask for admittance.

"My lord!" As usual, the house-owner rushed as soon as he went inside. "I am so glad you could come. I wasn't sure of your presence in my house tonight."

"Good evening, Flavius. Can you get everything ready?"

The entrepreneur smiled at the powerful leader, whose name was not to be pronounced in the house. "Being uncertain of your coming doesn't mean I wasn't prepared for your arrival, Your Excellency. Everything I can do to tend to your every need is always at your disposal, ready and willing." Flavius was gesturing affectedly, but the powerful man was not impressed. "But I'd beg only a modicum of your time until your food is properly arranged to your satisfaction."

He smiled. "Of course, Flavius. I am a bit hungry."

"Your Excellency won't be sorry to wait! Now just relax, until everything is perfect for my most honoured customer." Flavius left hurriedly, shouting orders to his slaves and servants.

The nobleman did not stand alone for even a short heartbeat, for Gracchus, his loyal stipator, came in right at that moment. Gracchus was a freeman, bound to the patrician only by loyalty and friendship. He was expected in the distinguished whorehouse every time his master came by. Gracchus would wait for his master, and, unless told otherwise, would not dare touch even the most unworthy of the servants.

Flavius came back, all smiles and reverences. "Your Excellency, please follow me."

The cubiculum was the same he had reserved, the one farther away from the atrium. The scene was one that always made his heart race. There was a burning fire for the cold, and it made wavy shadows on the painted walls, giving the room a foreign atmosphere. On the small bed, the cubile, there was a short leather whip and a set of binding straps, also from leather.

The nobleman suppressed a shiver of excitement. His chosen one was kneeling beside the table that held trays of food, an amphora of oil, a bowl with water and precious cuts of cloth. Flavius grinned, "I trust that the arrangements pleases you and that everything meets your expectations, sir."

The patrician surveyed the bedroom, his eyes resting on the slave at his feet, "It is too soon to talk about pleasure, Flavius."

Hearty and debauched laughs rose, and the house-owner left the room. The patrician immediately locked the double door and bolted it, making the room practically sealed from the outside. It now contained another world, different from the outside one, isolated and magical.

The slave rose, his beautiful body covered only by a vaporous tunic. Since he wore no loincloth, there was very little to imagination. In slow, precise movements, the barbarian disrobed the patrician, who felt his heart racing at the ethereal contact. The burgundy toga fell at his feet, and so did his own tunic, then the undergarments. The beautiful slave also disrobed himself. Both were naked, and the slave slipped one arm around the other man's waist, the other hand rising to the back of his neck.

Gently, oh so gently, the nobleman's lips were pressed against the handsome man before him. The tender tongue asked for entry and the urge for something more intimate slowly built, as if reality gradually shimmered around them. The touch of bare skin against bare skin added to the body heat and the rush of blood in their veins.

Suddenly, the hair was pulled back, and he was jerked back by the force of the strong arms, his whole body arching at the surprise and the power that made pain travel from his head.

The order came in a husky, ominous voice, "I want you on your knees."

Darkened with arousal, the eyes that held him had no room for pleas as he slid down.

A chuckle. "Good boy."

Once on his knees, he found himself face to face with the exquisite penis. He knew what was required of him. He didn't even need to ask. And he was glad to do it. He looked up at his master, his eyes filled with love and submission matching ones emanating lust and strength.

Crinius Julius Vecchius began to suck off the beautiful sex slave that he maintained on Flavius brothel.

Vecchius knew what he was risking for the slave. He was endangering his title, his family, his career, his life. But Behni was worth it.

He had met Behni when serving in Caledonia as a praetor. The handsome young man had been given to the mighty leader as a gift from a local warlord rival to Behni's tribe. Vecchius had never thought of falling in love with a slave, but Behni was so different, with that exotic pale skin, his deep eyes that kept changing colours from grey to blue... Besides, the Caledonian cared for his Roman master. He had willingly gone to the Roman's bed, and he had warmed Vecchius's nights in that cold land forsaken by Vulcan.

In those days, lying with a slave was not the issue, especially if it was his own slave and not another man's. Not even sleeping with another man was an offence. The matter was the law. Augustus passed Lex Scatina. It sustained severe punishment for any Roman citizen who offended the glory of the Empire. Accepting to put an inferior's penis in his mouth, or being mounted by an inferior was considered a threat to Rome, because no matter what circumstances, a Roman were made to conquer and to rule - even in bed. Even a woman having sex on top of her husband was considered a serious offence.

Vecchius knew of the risks, but that was how he and Behni were. Inside their room, Vecchius was the slave and Behni, the master. If anyone ever found that out, Behni would suffer a horrible and slow death, and Vecchius might also be executed. Being a nobleman, though, his family would do anything to avoid the scandal, so he would probably end up in exile, divorced and disgraced.

Risk, times and mores, however, fled his mind when his tongue laved the hot flesh before him, silky and firm. He licked once along the big purple vein of the organ, revelling in the gasp above. Delighted by action and reaction, he licked it once more and obtained a moan. His lips closed on the throbbing column, and he felt it pulsing. He felt Behni's fingers running through his scalp, urging him on as the hips rocked steadily, bringing more of his flesh into his mouth. Vecchius had to take care not to choke or he would be in trouble. He also brought his tongue to the big fat purple cockhead, licking tasty drops from the slit.

Long, slender fingers slid to caress the pale beauty of the firm inner thighs as the tongue travelled to lap the delicate spheres. He quickened the pace, his mouth filled with the barbarian's wondershaft. The musky aroma of the Caledonian's arousal, the trembling of his legs and the muffled moans made the Roman's erection harden painfully.

Vecchius slid his lips along the hard rod, up and down, up and down, while alternating generous laps of his tongue over the leaky slit and suction on the hard member. The gasps increased in frequency, the moans, in volume. Behni was hurling towards completion, and so was Vecchius, enthralled in his present task, mouth full of prime Caledonian meat.

With a muffled cry, Behni poured his sweet seed in Vecchius's willing mouth. The Roman milked him thoroughly, suckling furiously until he obtained the last drop of the precious fluid. Then he took all contents from the bed and helped the handsome barbarian recline on it.

Behni lied for a while to recover his breath, while Vecchius used his tongue to clean him gently, mindful of the sensitive skin. He then caressed and fondled his panting lover, just waiting for him. He couldn't help but tremble in fear. When Behni discovered what he had done, he would be in trouble.

His relief was short-lived.

"Stand up."

Guiltily, he obeyed, eyes glued to his feet, his heart banging against his ribs. The Caledonian sat up in the bed, and then his expression changed. He was up in a flash, circling a very nervous patrician who dared not face him. The slave reached out to touch the other man's stomach gently.

Such a trickish gesture. "So, beloved, did you have a good time?"

"Master, p-please, I-"

"You know very well that this" - Behni suddenly grabbed Vecchius's penis in a very painful manner, and the Roman suppressed a yell - "is for my pleasure, not yours." The Caledonian hissed. "You know you are not supposed to squirt without permission."

"I-I couldn't control myself, my lord."

"Big Roman citizen you are, when you cannot even control your own self!"

"I beg your forgiveness." Vecchius risked looking at his dominus, green eyes sparkling with love, voice filled with emotion. "I lose my control when you are concerned, my master."

For a second, caught by surprise with the emotional confession, Behni almost lost his thread of thought. Then he resumed his stern expression. "It doesn't excuse your lack of control. You know what that means, don't you?"

Vecchius's legs quavered, and his voice was wobbly with fear. "I-I am sorry, master, I-"

The answer was as cold as the winds of Caledonia. "You know what to do. Now do it."

Tense, the Roman climbed in the bed, facing down, with his wrists to his back. Behni picked up the leather straps and tied his arms. Vecchius realised that despite the cold weather he was sweating, and he was experiencing a blend of fear and excitement.

He heard Behni cross the room. As much as he was curious about what the other would do, he could not move and risk more punishment.

The first strike hit him unexpectedly, and he gasped in surprise and pain. Vecchius could not make a sound, so he squeezed his eyes shut. Behni slapped him again with the whip, harder this time. The leather was soft, and the hard blows stung a little. Not much, just enough to make him realise of his place as a servus.

"I hope you are juicy, boy, because I am getting hungry." He hit Vecchius's ass even harder, and the man couldn't help to slip a muffled moan. Benhi sniggered.

The patrician endured the whipping across his back and buttocks. Pain, pain, sweet pain invaded his senses, tensing his muscles, heating his skin. Behni was very good with the whip. There was pain and suffering in the exact measure. He was really a master.

After a few minutes, the whipping stopped.

Strong hands slid across his heated skin, a moan of appreciation. "You haven't been a good boy. But I am feeling generous tonight." The hands disappeared and there was a noise by the table. A scent of lotus flower filled the room. When the hands came back, they were slippery and precise: straight to his round buttocks.

"Hmmmm", made the master, handling fondly the soft skin, oiling the cleft. "Soft and juicy like peaches. I am getting hungrier, boy." He squeezed them gently. "Very hungry for those peaches."

The hands moved off him again. Vecchius could feel his renewed erection painfully crushed under his weight in the cubile. Subtly he tried to bend his knees to stick up his ass to ease the pain. A slap by an oily and heavy hand stilled his movements.

"Don't move, slave." He was warned, and tried to contain his quivering.

Vecchius felt Behni climbing up the bed. "Spread them".

So he did, and Behni positioned himself between Vecchius's legs, the sensations too strong for him. Not only that, Behni sprawled his body above Vecchius's. The heat from the Caledonian was incredible, and Vecchius gasped to suppress a moan of desire.

"I am quite magnanimous today, slave," he whispered on his lover's ear, also licking on it. "I am going to let you make sounds, as long as they are not loud. You make such sexy sounds, and they turn me on. But you must keep still, you hear? If you move in any way, I will not let you release, and you will have to leave this place with your Roman flagpole in full attention. Do you understand?"

Vecchius nodded, trembling in fear and excitement to feel his lover's hardening penis against his buttocks. Behni started rocking against his ass, and voice got more severe. "I can't hear you. I asked if you understood what I said."

"Y-yes, master."

"Good boy."

Behni moved again, now spreading Vecchius's cheeks. The Roman braced himself for the invasion, which usually was rough, painful and exciting.

So he gasped in surprise when he felt a warm, wet and gentle touch in his opening, bringing him multiple sensations. Vecchius had to make such an effort not to squirm or scream, for the lapping, the nuzzling and the licking were driving him insane. He gulped, repressing louder moans, and tensed his muscles in order not to buck against the liquid caress. The tongue ventured deeper inside his body, and he clenched his teeth, sensing his erection starting to ache. Oh, no. If he exploded, his master would freak out.

Suddenly, the Caledonian hopped to his knees and spread his cheeks once more to slam his hard organ deep inside Vecchius, grunting as he stick in him to the hilt. "Such nice peaches", he hissed between gulps of air.

Behni felt even bigger than usual inside Vecchius, meaning he was really excited. As he got pounded in his ass, the Roman nobleman could not help to feel smug at the way he turned his partner on. He wanted to drive Behni wild, and let him command him completely. He was still amazed at how easily he surrendered to Behni's control.

Behni's mastery over him was the real danger for the both of them. If anyone found out, the penalties would be deadly. Roman culture dictated that noble Romans were destined to exercise power and control over lovers, family members, subjects and pretty much anyone inferior. To let an inferior subjugate him was a major crime.

Vecchius couldn't understand how could it be a crime, when Behni took good care of him. He proved this once more when he brought Vecchius's hips close to him, his shaft inside him in an increasing pace. It took the Roman a hard struggle not to move, and the strain made his eyes water.

The barbarian slipped an oily hand around Vecchius's waist and found one hard, throbbing cock, leaking pearly droplets. He grasped it gently, spreading the greasy substance all over the velvety and sensitive skin, provoking loud gasps and moans. With his thumb working over the head, Behni felt the body under his increase the shivering. He knew Vecchius was trying hard not to come, and he smiled, feeling his own orgasm building faster.

"You... can join me... when I spill... inside you... my pretty", the one on the top panted.

The heat spread around his cock, and he let out a small cry as he spurted inside Vecchius's body. At nearly the same time, Behni's fingers, still over the leaky slit, received a flow of warm, thick fluid jumping all over his hand, at least six times, the melodious cries sounding like honey in his ears.

Behni wrapped his arms around Vecchius and stayed on top of him, both panting as their bodies slowed down after such strenuous activities. When their senses came back, Behni kissed the back of Vecchius's neck. "Don't move." He raised from the bed and padded quietly around the floor.

Vecchius felt the loss of heat, and heard the quiet noises. Behni would always do that after they made love. So he was prepared when the wet cloth gently began to clean his ass, the movements felt like a different caress.

He was delicately turned over, and his soft genitals were also tenderly washed. Behni glowed, the bowl of clay beside him, the grey-blue eyes twinkling in the flickering light of the oil-burning lamp. He also cleaned himself, then retrieved the bowl of food.

Vecchius propped himself in one elbow. "Let me feed you, beautiful Behni."

The naked Caledonian blushed and looked at his feet. "Please, my lord. I want to serve you. I want to tend to you. You make me feel so wanted."

The Roman smiled, and made the other sit by his side. "I cannot deny you any wish, my fair Behni. Please stay with me."

With delicate gestures, Behni fed his Roman lord, putting morsels of fruit, meat and bread in his mouth. Then he washed the good food with a wine, especially chosen from the house owner's private stock.

Vecchius felt loved, desired and cared for by someone who wanted nothing but love from him. Behni had proven that over and over again. The Roman didn't want to think about laws, mores or society right now.

"I am going to talk to Flavius again," he announced. "He has got to sell you back to me."

Behni kissed the Roman's forehead. "You don't have to buy me. Flavius treats me well, and he doesn't disobey your instructions."

"He's better not. I pay him regally enough to keep you exclusively for me, almost 60 denarii a week." Vecchius sighed, trying to relax. "I don't think we need to worry, though. I trust Flavius, and he is an honoured man. But I fear that some rich patrician demand use of you, and he might not be able to refuse."

Behni blushed, then shook his head at the awful perspective. "I wouldn't obey him."

"He would have to punish you." Vecchius reached out and touched the beautiful face. "I don't want you to get hurt. Promise me that if he tries anything, you escape in any way you can and tell me immediately."

"I will." Behni turned his head to kiss the hand still on his face, then forlornly looked at the Roman dignitary. "I won't let anyone touch me but you."

Vecchius smiled. "Your Latin is improving quite nicely. I am proud of you."

"I am glad you liked, my lord. I would do anything for you." Behni kissed him again. "I know it's not right for me to have feelings for you, but I do."

Vecchius took his hands and kissed them. "I have them for you, too. You are everything to me. I wish I could have you by my side all time. But my wife... Maybe she wouldn't bitch so much if I had a concubine. If Drusilla weren't such a witch, I would give all my villas to have you in my domus. By Jupiter, I would. We have to be careful. You know that I intend to buy you, keep you in a villa and then we can be together."

Behni snuggled against his true master. "It would be nice, my lord."

"I am sorry we have to meet like this, Behni. I really am." His voice was loaded with sorrow.

A knock on the door started them both. It was the signal.

Vecchius sighed. "It's Gracchus. I have to go."

Behni's face fell, but he didn't say a word. He kissed Vecchius tenderly in the lips and sat up, so the Roman could get up and dress. When the nobleman was done, he turned to his beautiful Caledonian and admired the man, naked in his exquisite pale splendour.

He vowed, "I will return, beloved."

The endearment melted Behni's heart. "I will keep a light for you."

They kissed once more. Behni felt a lump in his throat when the Roman of his dreams went out the door. He dressed and began gathering the toys, the same ones he would caress at night, fantasizing about the next time they would use them.

And maybe, someday, they would be able to be together. Just like they dreamed.

Finis

Glossary:

Stipator: more than friend, protector
Domus: urban residence for the upper class Cubile: bed
Cubiculum: bedroom
Praetor: arbitrator of legal disputes. He can judge or arrange to have judged civil suits. It is worth of mention, though, that the Romans entrusted both civil and military responsibilities to the same men. In this case, praetors and consuls might be called on to command army legions in battle as well as attending civil matters Denarii: sing. denarius. One of the most popular coins throughout Roman history. A teacher's salary (one of the highest paid professions at the time) was 200 denarii a month, or 900 sesterces Dominus: master


End The Cubicle by Pita Patter: pitapattr@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.