Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Solcar - 2. Rome 55 BCE
Tag – First Line
“Since when do I have to tell you everything?”
“Since when do I have to tell you everything?” asked the Centurion as he ran his fingers through the short, tightly curled hair on his slave’s chest. “All you need to know is how to continue pleasing me; anything else is unimportant.” He leaned his head and again nibbled on the young, muscular man’s left nipple while stroking the thick organ between Lucius’ legs. It had, scant minutes before, been inside the Centurion, providing immense pleasure. It had then lost rigidity and slowly slipped out after causing simultaneous eruptions by both of them. The older man felt somewhat empty once the slave’s appendage was removed from his body.
Slave traders acquired the imposing Nubian in Aegyptus and subsequently brought to Rome. A perfect male specimen, the Centurion purchased him to serve as a guard for his two young sons. His children, like those of other important Roman citizens, were subject to certain risks due to their father’s position. Lucius quickly proved he was worth the high price he commanded at auction.
The slave was more than a fearsome warrior who protected the family on more than one occasion. He was an intelligent and patient man who assisted in the education of his two young charges. In some ways, he replaced the mother lost years before.
Over the previous fifty-plus months, the Roman had fallen in love with his servant, and Lucius had correspondingly fallen in love with his master. They had become comfortable with each other. Most nights, and many mornings, found the military man on his back, his legs spread wide as the large African penetrated him and took possession of his body, bringing both great enjoyment and deep satisfaction.
“Why can’t I accompany you on this campaign as I have before, Centurion? I’ll be miserable, worried, lonely…”
“Hush, Lucius; enjoy this evening before I depart. In the morning, there will be a special present for you.”
The military man felt younger and more alive that he had in a long time. When his slave again entered him sometime later, he reached another orgasm as his insides were flooded with his lover’s essence one more time. Sated at last, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Before the sky alighted, the Centurion awoke but did not move. He looked at his young companion, lying next to him, knowing he would probably not see him again after this day. The premonition of death had first assailed the citizen of Rome several months before; it had grown stronger with time. He felt certain there would be no return to his villa outside the city following the upcoming campaign. He would not risk the life of the man who had stolen his heart and become his trusted partner by allowing his lover to accompany him into battle.
This was the last thing he imagined would happen when Lucius was taken from the slave pens after the auction. He was meant to be nothing more than his servant. He had never expected to fall in love again after his wife had died during childbirth, leaving him alone.
Silent tears streaked down his face as he spooned his lover, he was aware of Lucius also crying, but there was nothing he could do. They kept the pretense of sleep as sadness enveloped them, both certain the Centurion would not return alive.
He had already settled his affairs. His older brother had agreed to handle matters after his departure and ensure his last wishes were respected. Once he was gone, Lucius would learn he was no longer a slave. He would forever be a free man, a citizen of Rome, and wealthy beyond his dreams. The Centurion could do nothing about the sadness that would plague the former slave for the rest of his life.
•••
Colton used the brown napkin he had taken from the dispenser at Starbucks and wiped his eyes. Fucking tears, he hated them. Inside the human’s mind. Solcar silently agreed; he had never become accustomed to crying. He remembered that day in the Italian countryside so many years ago, and one thought kept running through his head; the freedom and wealth bestowed upon him carried too high a price. Losing his loved one.
The High Lords had known the suffering he would experience when they announced their sentence; death would have been easier to live with. Ha! That was the ultimate in moronic thoughts. He had lost track of time in his world, but the small leather-bound book in his hands was a sign his five thousand-year sentence would soon end.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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