– Caesar, at last! It's been a while since Euphorion announced your arrival. You were only supposed to do a little bit of washing, but I see you had to do the bath boy's too.
Emperor Verus had just entered the banquet hall, his arm around Philippos' waist, his thumb wandering deep in the furrow of his ass. Both men are naked, of course, and their sexes still swollen with pleasure.
– How can you resist that! replied the emperor, grabbing the generous flesh of the Scythian with full hand.
– You'll find him later. Come and settle in! Euphorion has planned an evening that should make up for the deprivations of your six months on campaign. I think you know everyone.
The banqueting hall is like a summary of the whole atmosphere of the baths, luxury of materials, sobriety of decor. In addition to the hypocaust heating, large bronze braziers warmly light the room. Six beds occupy one half of the room, around a porphyry basin filled with oil, leaving the other part free for the show. The walls, on the guest side, are painted in imitation of a garden, on the "stage" side they are simply covered with a white coating to highlight the actors. The magnificent multi-colored marble work with geometric patterns on the floor is largely covered with thick ecru wool carpets. Next to each bed, a small table is filled with fruit and sweets. Five men are already lying on the beds of the triclinium.
– I know everyone, Calvisius, but for some it's a surprise to meet them here. Thus, Postumus Fronto, I see that the death of your grandfather has taught you no more virtue than the reprimands of my brother, when he dismissed you from his service after finding you in my bed. And you, Ulpius Marcellus, by Hercules, if I expected. I know Euphorion's art for arranging surprises, but to find you here, on the very evening of the emperor's return, is very strong!
– The evil comes from further afield. Marcus decided to join us at the beginning of your expedition. He is a bit like the balance of the debts of your parasite Elgabalus.
– The term is not very flattering, I would rather be credited to his monoboles, as a bonus for their purchase.
– The colossi have made a fine acquisition there, but be careful, nothing to do with your Syrian wimp, you will be able to see it this very evening.
– My brother must have known. That better explains his fury when he surprised us at work, Postumus and me. It was in fact the second attack on his little areopagus of philosophers.
– The anger of a monarch who prides himself on wisdom is short of breath. Certainly we are no longer welcome at court, but under previous reigns the sanction would have been exile, at best, while here we are quietly boarding at Euphorion.
– Just like you, Drussus. End of military career!
– After your departure, I lacked support to keep the position of tribune. The vexations of the prefect Rufus Bassaeus had become daily. My fortune and my rank of knight restored by the services of the palace, I resigned a month ago. I now watch over other recruits, those from Euphorion.
The emperor continued to knead Philippos's buttocks with his hand and his penis began to stand up again.
– Caesar, your place awaits! Philippos will come back later!
– I had kept the memory of pleasant moments spent plowing these buttocks, but I had forgotten their velvety suppleness.
The scythe leaves the room and Verus lies down on the bed that remained free, in the place of honor among the other guests.
– Of all human faculties, the one I appreciate the most is certainly forgetfulness. It allows us to never be satiated, without having to infinitely widen the circle of one's desires, enjoying several times the freshness of discovery.
– Before summoning Socrates, Marcus, I would prefer Herodotus. Postumus could only tell us about the first stages of your journey through Germany, Caesar, and imperial reports have obviously always been favourable.
– But not wrong. Contrary to my forebodings, the campaign did indeed take place under the best auspices. We reached Aquileia without incident. The barbarians, after having devastated the city, had retreated into the mountains. The legions set off, meeting no resistance. The allied tribes withdrew as far as beyond the Ister. United for the pillage of defenseless cities, discord arose between them when it was necessary to fight the Roman army. The Quadi put their leaders to death and submitted to us. After these first easy successes and seeing the region pacified in a few weeks, I tried to convince my brother to return to Rome. Marcus did not agree and crossed the Ister. He voluntarily advanced the army in small stages, having understood the lack of unity of the Germans. Tribe after tribe, the barbarians submitted or were pushed back. The fighting was limited to vanguard skirmishes that were not very deadly for our troops, which could only please the humanist tastes of my philosopher brother, but made the military leaders champ at the bit. Thinking he would find easy glory there, the praetorian prefect Furius Victorinus pushed a legion forward. It was the only real battle of the campaign... and the prefect was killed. In the autumn, with the first snows, Marcus finally had to turn back. He left part of the army on the Ister, put the rest in winter quarters near Aquileia. His health, always failing, did not benefit much from these months in the open air. The return ceremonies were reduced to a minimum, even a triumph was spared. Leaving my brother in the care of his doctors, I came to join mine. But I found the building quite empty.
– If the open air has not been successful for our imperator, city life has not been healthier. This summer, the plague entered the City and quickly claimed a few hundred lives each day. Permanent pyres darkened the day with their smoke and lit the short nights with their flames. The richest citizens preferred to take refuge in their villas in the countryside, the others avoided public places, for fear of contagion. After gorging itself, the monster also took up its winter quarters in Suburre, still devouring a few dozen men per day, leaving the rest of the City in respite. Activity is beginning to resume, but after a long absence the discretion of the return of our emperors does not encourage exuberance. We are far from the splendor of your return from the East. But Euphorion has found, I believe, the most perfect way to celebrate your triumph. He has appointed me symposiarch of tonight's banquet. And this is the wine he offers us."
With their backs to the banqueters, six superb German males lined up facing the back wall, naked of course.
– Euphorion has carefully selected them from your consignments of captives, young, virile but not too wild. He has barely trimmed them, making them spectators of our orgies. Thus, even if they are still virgins, they know what awaits them, and should not rebel more than necessary to the show.
The six slaves form a beautiful row of asses, small, muscular and firm. In the meantime, the play of muscles outlines the top of the thighs and the curve of the fleshy part of their anatomy. Through the crotch one can see their balls swinging between the muscular thighs, and the best-hung even let the tip of a heads protrude below.
"But first we must unseal these amphorae." Calvisius claps his hands. “Wine steward!”
Answering the call, Procullus enters.
– But it’s my Cisalpine fool!
– You had misjudged him very badly. Young Sextus, now accessible without incurring your wrath, has become the mascot of the baths. Of course his ass is very popular, and rightly so, it is delicious, but he has also shown himself to be gifted for more active pleasures. All the more so since, if you had not noticed, he is magnificently endowed. His greatest fame, however, comes from another talent: he has no equal in the oral exploration of asses. He knows how to open your ring with just his tongue, dilate it to the point where he can then push three fingers in without effort. But more than one here has enjoyed just the voluptuousness of his tongue searching his entrails.
If it weren't for the same youthful face still marked by childhood and that smile still imbued with a disconcerting naivety despite all these months spent without leaving the baths, Verus would have had a hard time recognizing his former protégé in the young athlete who advances in the center of the room. The beginnings of rustic muscle-building have been harmoniously developed. The curve of the thighs and arms have rounded out, the outline of the torso and hips has deepened. Lucius can't help but applaud.
– Really, you amaze me! I would never have suspected so much treasure in this rough-hewn wood. Turn around a little, Sextus. Really, splendid, I can't find other words.
– All the honor goes to Loukianos!
– Hadrianus had gods made in the image of his lover, I can well fall in love with a boy who resembles a statue. I took the measurements myself, they correspond exactly to the canon of Polykleitos. The muscular exercises taught by Talos have perfected the resemblance. Surpassing Pygmalion, I directly sculpted a living statue.
– All you have to do is admire his performances too. Doryphoros, the field is all yours.
Sextus approaches the six naked bodies and kneels. He begins by blowing his hot breath on the buttocks. The fleshy masses first tighten, but soon between the thighs one can see the sexes harden, take on volume. The buttocks end up spreading, releasing the still virgin rosettes. The Germans are now frozen, impatient for what follows.
Procullus starts on the left with the hairiest one. He lets his saliva flow over the bushy fur. Then, when the bed of hair is soaked, he sticks his mouth against the slit, pushing his tongue towards the dark hole. The corolla opens and when he caresses the more sensitive flesh, the first grunts swell the chest of the German. Sextus leaves him unsatisfied and moves on to the neighbor, an impatient already converted. Casting an envious eye on the first served, he leans forward, resting his hands on the wall, his buttocks spread, open to the whims of Procullus. The latter excites him even more, scratches him lightly with a few strokes of his nails on the pink of the corolla, pushes a wet finger into it, works him until he brings him to the limits of enjoyment, then abandons him in this state.
The next one, in the center, is the most frightened. He keeps his ass tight, the eyelet hidden by firm and powerful gluteal muscles. Sextus attacks him lower. He blows between the thighs on the balls, caressing them as well and playing with the skin of the scrotum. He rolls the testicles gently between his fingers. But that is not enough, the German keeps all his reserve. Suddenly Procullus passes his hand between the legs and grabs his barely swollen member. Sextus massages the skin of the cock in a slow back and forth motion between thumb and index finger. He feels the tension rising in the German's body. But the latter grits his teeth and refuses the pleasure. He has a surprisingly long foreskin, hanging well below his head, Sextus plays with this skin, exciting each of the nerves in a clever game, until finally the dick begins to harden. The skin slides more easily. The German will soon lose all prevention and abandon himself to the caresses. Pulling his penis back between the German's legs, he teases the tip of the head with his tongue. Procullus feels on his tongue the first flows announcing the pleasure to come.
Another telltale sign of the rapture the German has reached, his legs begin to tremble. Sextus then swallows the sex further, passing his tongue around it, wetting and sucking until the German's grunts are cries of grace. He slides his lips along the cock over its entire length, and guides the head to the back of his throat, giving him pleasure by caressing this soft and moist wall. His tongue then makes skillful caresses to the balls. Finally, he caresses with the tip of his tongue the ring of an ass finally widely opened, tasting the reactions of this sensitive flesh to the stimulations of his fleshy organ. The muscles release, relax, opening a wide orifice. He licks it, kisses it, sucks it, penetrates it with his tongue even further. The German, legs spread, bust forward, now moans in his language, which can only be a plea to give him even more, always more.
But he is not the only one, the other Germans are stamping their feet impatiently. It is a magnificent spectacle that these offered asses, their balls still full, shaken at the same time as the rigid cocks, objects of intense masturbation. Sextus' fingers and tongue run more quickly over the fully open arched buttocks of the last slaves, impatient for what comes next. Procullus finishes by administering a few vigorous slaps on the fleshy buttocks. Procullus moves aside, in the center of the track, his own dick also very stiff.
"Bravo, Doryphoros. I think our Germans converted to male pleasure. All they have to do now is put into practice what they have seen these last evenings. After opening the amphorae, the wine steward will taste the wine."
Statianus points out two Germans, who immediately throw themselves on the Cisalpine. One greedily swallows the sexe, the other caresses and licks the torso, nibbles his breasts, then goes up to the shoulders, the neck, the earlobe. When, in this upward movement, his mouth approaches that of Sextus, the Cisalpine holds the nape of the neck with a firm hand and exchanges a deep kiss with this greedy partner. The German's lips loosen, finding the thing more pleasant than he would have thought. At a sign from Calvisius, a third thief places his head between Procullus' legs to in turn travel the buttocks of his tormentor and lick the corolla. Sextus spreads his thighs to make his work easier for him and to enjoy these caresses even more. The German who was sucking his cock, gets into position to offer him his ass to fuck. Sextus does not need to be asked twice and enters with pleasure this ring so generously opened but still virgin. The German who is behind takes advantage of the fact that Procullus has arched his back to fuck his compatriot and tries to introduce his finger into the ass of the Cisalpine. In this part of tangled body to body a beautiful and tempting dick suddenly passes in front of Procullus' nose. Whose? He can no longer recognize the Germans who surround him. He advances towards the cock of the greedy lips, and begins to suck, to lick this flesh of a stupefying softness. The ass in which it is fitted wiggles under him, increasing his excitement tenfold. And to top off his pleasure a powerful dick violently sinks from the other side, penetrating in a single thrust to the bottom of his ass. Caught in this whirlwind, his enjoyment is extraordinary. He collapses on the ground, covered by the mass of Germans.
The six spectators had followed fascinated the growing drunkenness of the cisalpine. All had a stiff member and some were already giving in to the ease of masturbation.
– You had not lied, Gaius. The novice has revealed himself to be a master and I could not have guessed in this countryboy such dispositions.
– I propose to you to admire all his talents this evening. He will be part of all the dishes of the feast. But first let us give him a little rest and pour the wine.
Statianus distributes the six Germans to the banqueters, the reluctant young man with the long foreskin to Marcellus, the hairy one to the smooth Loukianos. The stocky little one with the protruding buttocks naturally falls to Verus. Calvisius, Drussus and Fronto share the last.
"Here, each to his cup. Hold him in your hands, raise him to your lips, empty him of his wine as often as he can fill, but you will have to wait for my signal to break him. As for the feast, Euphorion offers you a multi-course menu in the form of variations on a single ingredient: our Doryphoros."
Calvisius claps his hands again, Euphorion's most gifted slaves enter in turn, the six former monoboles, Satyros, Philippos, Leagros but also Talos entrusted to him by Drussus. They line up against the white walls, all erect, forming a guard of honor around Procullus's inert body.
"If our friend deserves his title, he may well serve as a setting for all these spears."
