Second Time Around - 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Opening Scene

 

It was 7pm and I was beginning to get nervous, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. For the umpteenth time I had glanced at my watch, looked out of living room window and sighed.

 

“Relax will you? You know that Michael will turn up as promised. Naomi said he is reliable and not one to waste anybody’s time” Elliott said with an amused tone in his voice.

 

That was easy for him to say; after all it hadn’t been his idea to invite a hypnotist to our home to practise his dark arts on me in the name of science. Okay I know that sounds a little melodramatic, but that’s how I was feeling right then. I glanced in his direction, smiled in acknowledgement of his calming logic, kissed him tenderly on his forehead and ruffled his blonde locks which he was currently growing retro-style with side curtains (very 1980’s). I had to admit that I was just a little jealous of his thick blonde locks and being in his 40’s it just wasn’t fair! Here I am in my early 30’s and reduced to close cropping my hair because of its increasingly rapid retreat. I had been so proud of my easy to style black hair that did whatever I wanted it to do, now it was a distant memory. Just deserts I guess, my mum had always said I was too vain and that I would ruin my hair with all the gel and styling cream I used on a daily basis. Hmm! What do mums know? I used to think.

 

Glancing over to the 1930’s mantelpiece I felt a warm glow in my heart as I looked at our Wedding photo enlarged to poster size and elegantly framed. I think it’s safe to say that it was the happiest day of my life, not only was I marrying the love of my life but I felt I was coming home again having been away for so long. The two of us stood centre stage, Elliott as blonde and fair as I was dark and swarthy, dressed immaculately in our silvery grey morning suits holding hands beaming broadly. To either side of us stood our respective families ranging in age from my elderly grandparents to my nephews and nieces barely out of nappies but intent on creating mischief wherever they went. My sisters were doing their best to keep their offspring in line for the camera and failing miserably! I barely remember the reception afterwards because of the quantities of alcohol consumed but the photographs which sit in our album fill in the missing gaps and are an endless source of amusement for visiting friends and family.

 

The ring on the doorbell startled me out of my reminiscing and with another quick glance at Elliott for reassurance I went to answer the front door. Opening the door, I was greeted by the smiling face of an elderly gentleman, I would guess in his early seventies and in his prime he would have been a very handsome man.

 

“Hi, I’m Michael. You must be Sean.” The elderly man said before offering his hand for me to shake.

 

“How did you know?” I asked in surprise.

 

“I’m not psychic for nothing you know!” He laughed in response. “No, seriously, Naomi gave me a photo of you and Elliott to see if I could pick up anything before I paid you a visit.”

 

“Oh right, you’d better come in then!” I replied with a smile and stepped backwards and held the door open for him.

 

“Thank you.” He replied with a warm smile and walked into the hallway looking with casual interest before turning left into the living room and greeting Elliott with the same cheerfulness he had with me.

 

Elliott invited him to sit down while fetched the freshly brewed coffee and biscuits Elliott had prepared just before Michael’s arrival.

 

“So, here we are then.” Michael broke the ice having taken a cup of coffee and an offered biscuit. “Before I explain what my role will be, perhaps you two would like to tell me a little about yourselves and what you would like to gain from this session(s).”

 

I looked down at the coffee cup in my hand for a moment before making a start on why I had requested his services.

 

“Ever since I came to Exeter fifteen years ago I have been having strange experiences, which I find hard to explain and as time goes by seem to me to be more than just coincidence. I guess this may sound a little screwy, but I felt like I had finally come home when I moved here, even though I had never been to Exeter in my life before. Whenever I walk anywhere out in the countryside with our dogs I instinctively know where I am going and often get a strange sense of déjà vu but it’s only when it’s a rural setting, never when in town. Elliott initially thought I might have seen tourist literature about Exeter in the past and that is why it seems familiar but that explanation doesn’t feel right because it’s not the town, it’s the surrounding countryside I remember. Also with some of the friends I have made here (including Elliott) I feel that I have known them all my life and that I know what makes them tick better than those friends I have known since being at school. To be honest I’m not sure what I am expecting from today, all I know is what our dear friend Naomi has told me about you and your experience in this type of matter.”

 

“Okay, that’s fair enough.” Michael nodded deep in thought before glancing over to Elliott with a smile. “How about you? Are you participating or is it just Sean I will be working with today?”

 

Elliott hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying “I think at this stage I would prefer to wait and see what develops from your session with Sean. Don’t get me wrong, I have the deepest respect for your field of expertise and I am genuinely interested in whatever results from today. I just think it would be inappropriate at this early stage to join in, I have a feeling it would cloud the issue especially as Sean and I are emotionally very close. Perhaps if Sean finds the answers he is seeking then I will change my mind, in the meantime I am happy to help in any way I can.”

 

“Yes I can see that” Michael replied. “Naomi was right when she said there was an overpowering sense of emotional connection between the two of you, it is almost tangible. I have to admit it is very rare these days to see such a bond and one that has such a history to it.”

 

“History?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

 

“Sorry, I am digressing; I will come to that later after our session. So tell me a little about your backgrounds, where did you two guys grow up and how did you meet?”

 

Again I went first. “Well my name is Sean Mariccoli; I am half English half Italian (on my father’s side). The first ten years of my life were spent living with my parents in their apartment in Naples before we relocated to London where I spent the next eight years getting a good British education (at my mother’s insistence). Having done well with my GCSE A-Levels I chose to study Psychology at Exeter University and after the summer holidays I bid farewell to my parents at Paddington Train Station and caught the express train to Exeter St. Davids with all my worldly possessions in two big suitcases. Having unloaded my suitcases off the train I waited for it to pull away before looking around to see where I needed to go next. I glanced across the tracks to the opposite platform where I saw the most handsome man that I had ever seen in my life. I just stood there staring for what seemed an eternity, I was transfixed. He was in his late twenties, spiked blonde hair, dressed very smartly in a designer suit carrying a black leather brief case casually looking around at other commuters. Finally he noticed me staring, smirking he nodded in my direction and then looked over at the platform cafe to my left. Before I could respond his train arrived, like a lovesick puppy I stood there waiting to see if I would get another chance to see the handsome stranger before it left the station. Try as I might I couldn’t see him anywhere, then the train departed and he had gone. Crestfallen I picked up my suitcases and turned in the direction of the main entrance. The next thing I know is that I felt a tap on my shoulder and a deep rich voice chuckling saying that I was rather slow on the uptake considering how obvious I had made my intentions. He then led the way to the cafe where we had a coffee and chatted for ages (with massive flirting going on) before arranging to meet later that week for the first of many dates. Within a couple of weeks we were an item and by the end of the first term I had moved in with Elliott. The rest as they say is history.”

 

“And you Elliott?” Michael asked.

 

“Oh, mine’s a simple story.” Elliott responded with his usual casual confidence. “I am Devon born and bred. I can trace my family history in Exeter and the surrounding area way back when. I grew up not far from here, went to Bramdean School where I got my A-Levels and then went to the University of Surrey in Guildford to study Business & Retail Management. I was there three years before returning to Exeter to join my father’s business consultancy firm where I have worked ever since. I first saw Sean while waiting to catch a train to Basingstoke where I was due to attend a meeting (I finally got to my destination some two hours late, but it was worth the delay on both counts). I was casually people watching when I spotted this teenager looking lost and oh so cute! I don’t normally go for guys younger than myself but there was something about him which instantly drew my attention and acting on impulse I met his gaze and gestured to meet me in the platform cafe. I made my way to his platform to find that he hadn’t moved an inch and was about to leave. We spent about an hour in the cafe chatting, I found myself becoming smitten with this dark, cute young man and it was only with great reluctance I tore myself away to catch the next train to Basingstoke and my meeting but not before I had arranged a date. I sat on that train with the biggest grin on my face which lasted for most of the journey. We had a whirlwind romance and before I knew it Sean was living with me and I am as happy as can be. I really feel that I have found my soul mate.”

 

Nodding and smiling gently Michael said “Well that has given me a good insight into your backgrounds and you both seem like well grounded guys with your heads firmly screwed on. I can see no reason why we can’t proceed with the regression hypnotism to see if we can’t get to the bottom of your sense of déjà vu and coincidences. This is of course assuming that you are still happy to go ahead with it”.

 

Feeling both nervous and excited, as if I was finally on the right course I confirmed that I wanted to go ahead with this and that I also wanted Elliott to remain in the room so he could record and witness whatever should transpire during the session.

 

Chapter 2: 1st Regression Therapy Session

 

Sitting comfortably in the arm chair I did my best to relax and take deep breaths as instructed by Michael’s quiet and soothing voice. Slowly the world around me slipped away, my eyes were closed; there was just me and the voice in the darkness.

 

“I want you to relax completely, let go of all conscious thoughts and as I take you back just go with the flow and accept whatever images come into your mind. I want you to think about the first time you ever came to Exeter and tell me what you remember. Don’t try to analyse what you see, just describe it as it is.”

 

Slowly a vision appeared before my eyes, like I was watching a film yet immersed within it at the same time. I must have physically reacted because I heard Michael ask “What can you see?”

 

“Soldiers, my comrades and friends, marching in front of me.”

 

“Soldiers? What do they look like? Where are you going?”

 

“Yes, we are soldiers. We are Emperor Hadrian’s soldiers. We are marching towards Isca Dumnoniorum, one of the new outposts where there has been local resistance which needs suppressing. In front of me are thirty men, all dressed in red knee length tunics, metal helmets, body armour, sandals. We are carrying our shields and javelins in our hands with our daggers and swords attached to what looks like a belt. I am in the last row of men and we are marching in unison at a brisk pace. We want to get there before sunset and still have a long way to go so we will not be resting; I am aching from the march we are on.

“How old are you?”

 

“Eighteen.”

 

“What can you see?”

 

“Ahead of us, a main path which we are following, to my left are flood meadows with grazing cattle and sheep rising up to low wooded hills. To my right is a fast flowing river which is quite wide. On the opposite bank it is more wooded and therefore more likely to offer unwelcome surprises for us. Looking over my shoulder I can see a shadowy figure following us at a discreet distance doing his best to remain hidden, but I have seen him.”

 

“Describe him.”

 

“He is a tall powerful looking man, muscular with blue tattoo designs over his naked chest shoulders and arms. He has blonde spiked hair in the style that many native Britons grow it. He is wearing what appears to be loose fitting leather trousers which are tied at the waist and some type of footwear. He is carrying a dagger casually in his hand. He realises that I have seen him and stares at me, I stop marching as if my feet have taken root and stare transfixed back at him.”

 

“Do you know who he is?”

 

“No. He looks like any other native; although by the clothing and his tattoos I guess he is not a commoner most likely a higher ranking warrior. Although, on second thoughts; there is something familiar about him.”

 

“Look closer, do you recognise him?”

 

“Wait. He has just given me a confident smile making his blue eyes twinkle; it sends shivers down my spine. Now I recognise him, he looks likes Elliott, I’d recognise that smile anywhere!”

 

“Really? What is happening now?”

 

“Nothing, we just stand there and stare at each other for ages not taking our eyes off one another. Then I hear a cry - Caius Artorius Vitalis! Move it! Do you want to get us all killed – we will be if you keep standing there like an idiot staring into space. Uh oh, it’s my commander; he is striding towards me looking very angry. I try to explain to him that we are being followed and that I had spotted one of the rebels but when I point in the direction of the figure the man has disappeared. For my troubles I get a stinging slap across the face and get pushed roughly in the direction of the others and told to keep up.”

 

The vision faded out abruptly and I opened my eyes reflexively, the contrast between my vision and reality before me was jarring and I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I really was awake before looking round the room.

 

Elliott was sitting on the edge of his seat, a mixture of concern and disbelief playing across his face as he watched me intently. A pang of guilt coursed through my body for having asked Elliott to stay and witness this session. Michael however seemed energised and extremely pleased with himself.

 

“Are you okay?” Michael asked. “You came round quickly and sooner than I had expected.”

 

I was sure that I detected a slight trace of disappointment in his tone, just like when you have recorded a programme to find out that the recording finishes two minutes before the end of the programme.

 

“I’m fine, honestly. I can’t believe just how vivid the images I was seeing were, it was like a cross between watching a movie and recalling a recent event from memory. I don’t understand how I can remember an event which clearly isn’t from my lifetime and I know I wasn’t dreaming it up from my imagination.”

 

“How can you be sure that it’s not just a flight of fancy, something you might have seen from a film or read in a book?” Elliott asked, now sitting back in his chair looking very thoughtful.

 

“I wasn’t in control of the images any more than you are when you’re watching a film, yet I knew every single person in my field of vision and all about them; their likes, dislikes and history. How would I know all this if I was simply making this up as I go?” I replied.

 

Michael agreed with me and thanked me for being so open with my experiences and sharing them with him and Elliott. He felt that my experiences were genuine and deserved to be explored further, if we were willing to do so, as he was sure that we had just scratched the surface today. I for one was intrigued by this and felt that I had made a positive first step to gaining a better understanding of my experiences.

 

I was beginning to feel mentally and emotionally drained as if I had just sat an exam, so I decided I needed a change of scenery (the kitchen) and a strong cup of coffee. As I waited for the kettle to boil I gazed out of the kitchen window and across the neatly manicured lawn (my pride and joy) my mind drifting on nothing in particular, so much so that I didn’t hear the others walk into the room continuing with the conversation that I had left behind. I jumped when I felt Elliott’s arms wrap round my waist and felt his breath on the nape of my neck before he gently kissed me.

 

“Sorry, I was miles away” I said with a smile and turned round in his arms. I kissed him briefly on the lips before resuming with the coffee making. Around the kitchen table the three of us sat, Elliott and I sipped our coffees as we listened intently to Michael recounting tales of other regression therapy cases he’d worked on and his theories on what it all meant. Having completed his second cup of coffee and checked again that I was okay, Michael announced that it was time for him make an exit as it was now getting late. Before he left we arranged to undertake a second regression next weekend and with that he quietly let himself out.

 

As Elliott loaded the dishwasher and tidied the kitchen I took the opportunity to have a quick shower. I let the hot water course over me washing away all the thoughts of the last couple of hours and allowing me to return fully to the here and now. Shower over, as I briskly towelled myself dry I could hear Elliott moving around downstairs so still naked I casually sauntered downstairs and using the door way to frame me I struck a seductive pose and asked him if there was anything I could do to help.

 

Looking up with a grin at the sight of my naked body he assured me that he had everything under control but if I cared to retire to our bedroom then he was certain I might be able to help him out. With an exaggerated wink and a Marilyn Monroe style pouting kiss I turned on my heel and ran up the stairs heading for the master bedroom and the very sturdy bed within. Wanting to create the right effect I carefully arranged myself so that when Elliott walked into the room he would be able to see my hidden gateway waiting patiently for his entry. What I hadn’t anticipated on was that I was more tired than I realised and fell asleep long before he’d finished his shower.

 

I woke with a slight start as my legs were gently pushed further apart and a hand reached underneath to retrieve my crown jewels. Gently cupping my balls he expertly rolled them while his warm wet tongue slowly and lovingly licked my rapidly expanding shaft. Moaning gently I savoured every sensation of my erect cock being swallowed up to the hilt while his hands massaged my buttocks. In response I clenched and unclenched them causing my cock to thrust in and out of his mouth, gradually the tempo increased until I was about to shoot my load. Sensing this Elliott pulled his mouth away with a chuckle before turning his attention to my puckered hole. For what seemed eternity his tongue explored every nook and cranny both inside and out, I was in heaven! My hole was gagging to be filled and in my lust I said as much.

 

“Right you are then, soldier boy! Brace yourself, here it comes......”

 

And so it did, with one experienced thrust his generously sized cock and bulbous head forced its way past the saliva laden ring and up my arse causing me to rear up in response.

 

“Aaaaaargh! That hurts!” I yowled.

 

Elliott made no response except to place a hand over my mouth effectively gagging me, pulled my head back and growled lustfully in my ear. All the time he was thrusting his cock in and pulling almost completely out but not quite before driving in again – just how I like it. Before long I had forgotten all about the momentary discomfort and was totally absorbed in the sensations emanating from my hole. On and on he thrust until with one almighty push he shot his load deep into my bowls and then collapsed on to me. God it felt good! So much so that my cock was twitching in response and I shot my load too, making a sticky mess between me and the sheet.

 

I lay there quietly, feeling the weight of Elliott’s body as it recovered from its exertions, while all the time his cock was still impaling my anus refusing to subside. He started to playfully nip my shoulders with his teeth, signalling to me that he was ready to start again. Being the slut I am I responded by raising my bum a little indicated my consent and without further encouragement he pushed his cock inside me as far as it would go and started humping me all over again but this time at a more leisurely pace.

 

Much later on and after several more loads of spunk had been deposited within me we finally fell asleep from exhaustion, which I would come to regret as the mess we had made was distinctly less appealing in the bright light of the morning sun.......

 

 

Chapter 3: 2nd Regression Therapy Session

 

It’s Saturday evening again and once more I am pacing around our living room like a caged animal, not quite as anxious as I was the first time but not far off. Elliott as ever is unflappable (but then he’s not the one in the hot seat) and continues to watch the Sky Sports channel seemingly fascinated by hot sweaty rugby players grunting and shoving around in mud with muscles straining to rip open their shorts. I would have been there by his side if I hadn’t been so keyed up waiting for Michael’s arrival.

 

Ten minutes later and there’s a ring on the bell, I open the door to see the cheerful smiling face of our guest and his customary stretched out hand ready to shake mine.

 

“Hi there Sean, how are you? Are you going to let me in or are we standing here on ceremony?” He quipped.

 

“Sorry, do come in. I’m just a little distracted at the moment!” I replied stepping back to let Michael come in.

 

By now Elliott had turned the television off and arranged the room in readiness for the next regression I would be undertaking, he was just fluffing up the last cushion as we walked into the living room.

 

“Please don’t stand on ceremony for me. I’m interested in you two guys not the tidiness of your home, although I must say it is a very warm and inviting home which I would have expected from two such gorgeous people. Before we start could I have a glass of water? My mouth is rather dry and I have a feeling this may be rather a long session.”

 

As Elliott went to fetch Michael a glass of water I made myself comfortable in my chair and tried to still my mind in preparation.

 

Having taken a few sips of his water Michael started the session by recapping on what would be involved in the regression, how it works and what we could expect from it. Then, as before, Michael led me through the relaxation technique before taking me back through my memories.

 

“I want you to go back to the time when you were Caius Artorius Vitalis but this time I want you to concentrate on the next memorable event and describe everything that you can see, hear and feel please. Take your time, try to recall everything.”

 

From the recesses of my mind, vivid images and sounds sprang to mind assaulting my senses with their violence. In reaction I must have cried out because I felt Michael’s hand rest on my arm and his concerned voice asking me if I was okay and if I wanted to continue.

 

“Yes, I want to continue, I was simply caught unawares that’s all.”

 

“Tell me what can you see?”

 

“Bodies. Bodies everywhere, some are dead and others close to it. Grown men are crying out for help but I can’t help them, I can’t move. I can see them confident in their victory stalking among the bodies looting them of their weapons and valuables. The smell of death and gore is overpowering, I am gagging and close to vomiting. They are systematically decapitating the bodies and keeping the heads for trophies, I am angry at the lack of respect shown to my dead comrades.”

 

“What has happened? Who are they?”

 

“The Celts. We were ambushed not far from our destination, Isca Dumnoniorum. From every angle hundreds of them attacked us, we had barely time to react, we didn’t stand a chance against the over whelming numbers. Before we had time to get into formation the first soldiers were being killed or mortally injured. Within what seemed a few minutes there was only me and four other soldiers alive, then something struck the back of my head and I lost consciousness. When I came round I was lying on the ground with my feet tied together and my hands bound behind my back. The other surviving soldiers have met the same fate and are laying in a row near me.”

 

“What is happening now?”

 

“I can hear screaming, now it’s a gurgle, no it’s a squelching noise. Oh my god! The bastards are killing my wounded comrades; they’re not even being given a chance to surrender! I close my eyes, I can’t bear to watch – I wish I someone would cover my ears to the noises. I struggle against my restraints as I’m terrified that I will be next to be executed. Eventually it’s all over and now they are standing around us, covered in blood splatters with manic looks in their eyes laughing and jeering at our obvious terror. Someone behind me yells ‘Enough!’ I try to look in the direction of the voice but am unable to due to the position I am laying in. ‘Get these Roman dogs back to camp so we can celebrate and make sacrifices to Belatucadros for our victory today.’ Our captors’ expressions change from manic to lustful and their energy levels seem renewed. Suddenly I feel several pairs hands make contact with my body, I am confused for a moment expecting to be dragged away to where their camp is and whatever fate awaits me. Instead the hands seem to be fumbling with my armour and clothing, they are systematically removing everything and within a few minutes I am laying there stark naked (as are my other comrades) but the hands don’t leave me alone. From the tones in their voice I guess they are assessing my body’s physique, then the hands explore my cock and bollocks handling them roughly bringing tears to my eyes before reaching between my cheeks and shoving a dry finger up my anus. Jeez! It’s agonising and I cry out in pain making the hand’s owner laugh sadistically.”

 

“Are you okay?” Michael asked, with concern evident in his voice.

 

“Yes.” I reply “I am seeing and feeling everything as if I was there again but I know that it is only memories and not the here and now”.

 

“Okay. Carry on when you feel you are ready.”

 

“My torment has ceased, I have been lifted up and slung over a large guy’s shoulder and receive a stinging slap to my cheeks to remind me who is in charge. From my vantage point I see that we are all being carried this way and as we leave the scene of carnage a few of the Celts remain digging a pit in which to bury the corpses left behind. We leave the main track and cut through the woods using less obvious paths, having no hands to support myself I keep slipping off my captor’s shoulder. He quickly gets irritated by this and chuckling to himself he remedies the situation by pushing the arm of the shoulder I lay on up between my legs, then sticking a finger in his mouth to wet it he sticks it up my arse. In one clever move he has ensured that I am held securely and my mind is focused on his finger rather than trying to be a nuisance load. At first I find it incredibly uncomfortable, being an anal virgin apart from that finger a few minutes ago, I have never had anything up there before. Even through the military training school I had never experienced ‘manly love’ as our tutors had called it, I was aware that it happened but had always been too focused on my training to be distracted by physical relationships. After a while the discomfort eases and in a funny sort of way begins to feel pleasurable, the finger seems to be rubbing against something inside me with the result that my cock starts to stiffen and rub against my captor’s shoulder. By the time we reached their destination my hole has become accustomed to the intrusion and I barely notice it until it is pulled out just before I am unceremoniously dumped on the ground along with the others.”

 

“Where are you now? What can you see?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s some sort of camp hidden in the scrubland on top of a hill. You couldn’t see it from the main track down by the river and our scouts weren’t aware of it. It’s not fortified in the proper sense but thorn bushes surround it except for a couple of gaps forming a natural barrier. There are a dozen thatched huts at one end of the camp with a large open space in front of them. In the middle of the camp there are three thick stakes arranged in a triangle with metal loops attached to the top and bottom of each one. To one side of it there is a large tree trunk laying on its side, the bark has been removed and appears smooth as if it’s been polished. Every three feet there is a shallow scoop taken out of it, looking very much like a saddle so you can sit astride it and curiously at the centre of each seat is a short pole about six inches in length. Looking down the trunk the poles seem to get thicker but not longer. As with the stakes there are metal hoops attached in front of each seat and either side of it near the ground. I do not understand the use for either the stakes or the tree trunk. One thing that does surprise me is that near the largest hut is what looks like a large metal bath like some of our communal baths boast. I don’t understand how it got to be in a camp like this nor how they get water in to it.”

 

“What’s happening now?”

 

“News of our arrival must have spread because women and children come running out of the smaller huts, excited by the news of their recent victory and curious about the captives laying on the ground in a heap. I am hopeful that our treatment will improve due to the presence of the women and children; my hope is short lived as the women appear as scornful as their men folk. They make it quite clear that we must be cowards to have been caught alive in battle; the children are dirty little urchins intent on mischief and take great delight in pulling faces at us before pinching and kicking us without reprimand from their parents. Things aren’t looking good for us! Once the novelty wears off the crowd resume their normal pursuits, the men who had carried us to the camp saunter over and without making any comments fasten metal collars round our necks which are then attached to short lengths of metal chain. Still in silence, our wrist and ankle restraints are removed and I spend a couple of minutes stretching my arms getting the circulation back. Then without warning our captors turn on their heels and drag us stumbling over to the stakes where we are tied up as if we are dogs. They then leave jogging over to the group of huts and disappear into the largest one. Once we are alone Marius, Castus, Felix and Rufus and me talk in hushed tones about the recent turn of events and try to plan an escape strategy. We quickly realise that there is little hope of escape and inevitably our thoughts turn to the reputation the Celts have for treating their captives. I am feeling increasing despondent and fearful for my safety. I don’t believe I will reach the safety of a Roman settlement ever again. One by one as exhaustion takes its toll we fall asleep, huddled together in a naked heap praying to the various gods for a miraculous salvation.”

 

“How long are you left tied up for?” Michael prompts me after I remain silent for several minutes.

 

“I don’t know, but it is nearly night time when I wake with a start as a foot kicks me in the ribs. Standing in front of us are our captors, they have already unchained us from the stakes and indicate that we are to follow them. Again we are half dragged in the direction of the large hut but before we reach it our destination changes and we head to the metal bath where a couple of women are waiting for us with what looks like primitive soap and rags serving as clothes. I can see the bath has been filled with water and I finally understand that we are going to get the chance to wash the gore and grime off our bodies that make us smell like pole cats. I’m in for a shock though; we’re picked up and dumped unceremoniously into the freezing cold water. Then before I can try to jump out again the women wash every single part of our body not caring one iota about our modesties. They only stop when they are satisfied we are clean all over and no longer smell. Our captors indicate that it’s time to get out (not a moment too soon) and are led to a small hut where I can smell food cooking; my mouth is salivating as I haven’t eaten since the day before. In one corner there is a plate piled with chunks of bread and a bowl of vegetable broth and we are allowed to sit down unfettered and fill our stomachs with the welcome food. Life seems a whole lot better when your stomach is full! We are left alone apart from two armed guards at the doorway, until they step aside and an elderly gentleman makes his entrance. He has a kindly face and smiles a greeting before speaking to us in heavily accented Roman”

 

“Was this a surprise for you?”

 

“Very much so. Since the battle I haven’t understood any of the language being spoken. I was supposed to have learnt the British Celtic language before we left camp, but I am not very good with learning languages, I have enough trouble with Roman!”

 

“What did he say to you?”

 

“After he makes a welcome speech, he introduces himself as Cos, the high priest of Belatucadros (the Celtic god of war) and has been informed by Belenos Corann (the tribe’s chief) that we are now his responsibility. He asks each of us our names and do we understand that we had been spared our lives when we could easily have been killed in battle as is the fate of every true warrior. Reluctantly we give him our names and agree that our lives had been spared, not being sure where this conversation is leading us. You have given me a dilemma young men, as Roman soldiers you should be classed as warriors and yet you are still alive. According to my god’s rules we cannot kill you in cold blood because that will make us cowards and demand our lives in compensation for the shame we will have brought on the tribe. But to spare your lives and set you free will jeopardise the safety of our people and this camp. Mmm what should be done he ponders as he walks stiffly round the room; we watch his every move trying to guess where he is going with this. Finally he stops pacing, turns to us and says with a heavy sigh the only solution he can see is for us to face a series of challenges. If we successfully pass all of them we will be granted full membership of the tribe and will have to swear allegiance to the tribe. If we fail just one of the tests we will only be granted slave status for the rest of our lives but if we fail two or more tests then we will be classed as cowards and can therefore be executed in line with our laws. That is my decision. I will return in the morning with my priests to assist me in preparing you for your challenges, get some rest because you will surely need it. You will stay in this hut until then. We are silent digesting the information he has just given us, all except Rufus who asks if we could be given some clothing and rugs to keep us warm. The old man stares at him hard for a moment before frowning and spitting out his reply. The rumours are true, you Romans are now soft and weak, in the old days, your ancestors thought nothing of being naked whether in battle or at any other time. Now you need to cover up to keep your feeble bodies hidden from your enemies. Our men would rather die than show this level of weakness. If I hear any more questions indicating this level of weakness then I will consider you having failed a test and it will count as a strike against you. Do you understand? We all nod without saying anything for fear of offending him further. He leaves us without saying anything else. The old man talks briefly to our guards before disappearing into the darkness, after his departure they turn round and peer inside and in pigeon Roman whisper ‘sweet dreams little boys’. By now we’re exhausted and cold, there’s no form of heating in the hut so by common consent we huddle together for warmth and try to get as much sleep as we can not knowing what lay ahead for us tomorrow.”

 

“What happens tomorrow?” Michael asks with an intense tone to his voice.

 

“We are woken at sunrise by the Cos and two young men introduced to us as Piran and Wingallock, his assistant priests. They offer us some fruit and dry bread for food and a beaker of water each to drink. Cos says we’re to obey them as if it was him speaking, any resistance or refusal will be taken as failing the challenge and so on. The tribe is looking for any excuse to kill you and I am all that stands between you and death, I am on your side but you must do as I say. Again we silently nod. Good he remarks, now you are going to be prepared for your first challenge. Follow me and keep up, do not try to escape, you have nowhere to run to in any case, and you will be hunted down likes the dogs that you are. He doesn’t wait for a reply from us. He and the priests leave the hut and march out of the camp. We hurry to keep up, doing our best to ignore the stares and sniggers from the men and women going about their daily chores. We are led out of the camp, through a thickly wooded area and suddenly come across another clearing. In the centre of the clearing stands a building which looks like a cross between a temple and bath house, I wonder who built it as it looks old but is obviously carefully maintained from the state of it.”

 

“Does it look Roman to you?” Elliot interrupts abruptly.

 

“Elliott, please don’t do that, I don’t want Sean to break his concentration.” Michael chides him quietly.

 

“Sorry.” Elliott replies.

 

“It sort of looks Roman but who would have built it I don’t know. We walk up to the entrance of the building but are not allowed inside as we are ‘unclean’ and heathen. They leave us standing there while they walk inside; they’re gone for several minutes before returning carrying some curious looking items. Cos is carrying a pot of what looks like animal fat and a large hollow cow’s horn with the tip having been cut off. Piran and Wingallock are carrying a large water urn between them as well as a smaller jug. Cos clearly remembers Rufus from the night before because he turns his attention to him first. Rufus come here, get down on your hands and knees, place your head on the ground at my feet with your bum high in the air. Rufus glances nervously at us but does as he’s instructed. That’s right, push your bum a little higher and spread your knees wider apart. Okay, you are now ready to be cleaned out, stay absolutely still and remain relaxed at all times. He then walks round behind Rufus and kneels down, we crowd round curious to see what will happen next peering over the old man’s shoulders. The two priests grin at us, clearly knowing what is about to happen, Rufus is aware of us but gauging by his red cheeks (on his face) he is very embarrassed. It is the first time that I have seen a man’s anus displayed in such a way and there is something very appealing about the way it quivers in response to the breeze blowing along the crevice between his cheeks. His bollocks and cock swung freely as he shifts his weight around. Cos picks up the pot of fat and scoops up some of the fat in his fingers and plays with it until it is soft and runny. He then leans forward and smears it around Rufus’s anus before pushing a large glob of it inside using his index finger. Rufus rears up momentarily, clearly this is not something he has experienced before, Piran pushes him firmly back down again. All the while Cos keeps his finger fully buried inside Rufus’s anus, smearing the fat all round inside allowing the man to adjust to the anal invasion. With a grunt of approval Cos indicates that he is ready for the next stage, while Piran holds Rufus’s head down on the ground, Wingallock hands Cos the cow horn who in one swift practised move inserts the narrow end into Rufus until a third of it has disappeared inside. This brings a muffled grunt from the Rufus but otherwise no visible reaction. I step forward a little closer to get a clearer view, this has the unfortunate effect of getting Cos’s attention who laughs and says easy Roman, your turn will be next! Without breaking his grip on the horn Cos takes the jug of water offered to him by Wingallock and slowly pours the water into the open mouth of the horn. From my view point I can see it slowly empty into Rufus’s bowels; jug after jug is poured into the horn and then into Rufus who is clearly becoming uncomfortable as his torso begins to distend. Cos reaches between Rufus’s outspread legs and palpates his stomach before pulling back and giving his bollocks a gentle tug. Standing up he gently pulls the cow horn out and tells Rufus to stand up and empty his bowels in the woods opposite us. Needing no encouragement he runs across the grass clutching his stomach before squatting down just out of sight, we then hear the tell tale sounds of the water and faeces exiting at great speed. Five minutes later he returns looking rather sheepish and trying not to make eye contact with us. As he rejoins us Cos tells me it is my turn to be cleaned out and that I am to assume the same position. Glancing quickly over at the others, Rufus grins before giving me an encouraging nod. I kneel down on the ground and place my head on my folded arms which has the effect of raising my arse in the air and I spread my legs wide. Feeling the air blowing across my hole and knowing it is on show to the others I find strangely erotic and before I know it I am sporting an erection which doesn’t go unnoticed by the others judging by the quiet wolf whistles behind me. I hear Cos crouching down behind me and I prepare myself for what is to follow. All too soon I feel his fingers greasing up my hole before pushing a lump of the fat inside followed by his large index finger. After the ordeal of having a dry finger shoved up there, having a greased one feels really good and turns me on even more. Unconsciously I start to back onto the finger much to the delight of Cos and Piran who are clearly discussing my reaction in their native tongue. I feel a hand reach under me and give my cock a slow massage; glancing sideways I see the hand belongs to Wingallock who looks at me coolly before withdrawing his hand and nodding at Cos. Then the finger withdraws to be replaced by the harder cows horn, it’s not uncomfortable just different and then the cold water starts to flow into me. I can understand Rufus’s discomfort, there seems to be no end in the water flowing in but eventually my stomach starts to bloat uncomfortably and Cos palpates it, assessing its fullness. Satisfied he pulls the horn out and tells me to run to the woods to empty out. I race as fast as I can clenching my cheeks all the while, as I squat down I never think it’s going to stop pouring out! Finally it does and as I walk back to the group I can see Marius is being cleaned out followed by Castus and Felix. While we watch Rufus gives me a hug and comments on how well I took the treatment, not like him who made a fuss over it. Nonsense I say in response, you are braver than me, you went first and didn’t know what was coming whereas I did so was better prepared. Besides, you should be proud, your hole looked very appealing winking at me in the sunshine! Rufus laughs in reaction and play punches me on the arm. Finally we have all been cleaned out to Cos’s satisfaction and are led back to the camp only to be chained up again to stakes without comment by the priests.”

 

I pause for a moment to take a long drink from my glass of water; I smile at Elliott before going back into my trance again.

 

“Okay, what happens next after you’ve been left at the stakes?” Michael asks.

 

“We are left alone for a while before being brought water and bread by a couple of women who openly stare at our bodies before running back to the huts. We are famished so eat the bread and drink the water quickly before we are interrupted. We spend most of the afternoon dozing in the afternoon sun shine; we are pretty much ignored by the tribe which is a relief to me. Then as the sun starts to set events take a sinister turn. We spot Cos, Piran and Wingallock leave their hut dressed in their druid clothing carrying three jugs of fat, two lengths chain and manacles, walking in our general direction but stop at the ‘tree trunk’ where the jugs and chains are put down on the ground. They are shortly joined by ten warriors in full battle regalia i.e. stark naked with body tattoos all over and gold torque necklaces and hair spiked carrying spears and daggers. Piran strides over to us carrying the manacles followed by the warriors who stare haughtily down at us. Silently Piran attaches the manacles to our wrist and ankles then with a nod to the warriors, they detach our neck chains from the stakes and lead us over to the tree trunk. As we stand there Cos and Wingallock are busy applying generous amounts of the fatty grease to each of the poles, it is beginning to dawn on me what these poles will be used for! When they finish that task they turn their attention to us, with a nod from Cos each of us are grabbed by two warriors who bend us over; one holding our head down and the other holding us round the waist preventing us from moving. Me, being nearest to Cos gets the treatment first; he walks up behind me and liberally greases up my anus. First one finger is inserted and for a while it is pushed in and out and twirled around to loosen up my hole, it is joined by a second finger briefly before they are withdrawn and Cos moves onto Felix next to me. This process is repeated until all five of us have been greased up. The warrior who is holding me by my waist releases his grip and walks round behind me before holding me by the waist again. He pushes my bum down until it is in the right position for him and without warning he thrusts his erect cock deep into me until his balls are pressing against my cheeks. I cry out in pain at the sudden intrusion and as my mouth opens to yell out I feel the other warrior position himself and then his cock pushes into my mouth and straight down my throat causing me to gag. I am being brutally fucked at both ends, no mercy is shown by either warrior but I am determined to show my courage by not protesting or resisting in any way. Slowly both orifices become accustomed to their cocks and it becomes a pleasure rather than a torment. On and on they thrust in and out until with final push and a guttural growl they shoot their loads into my rectum and down my throat, then abruptly pull out leaving a trail of jism oozing out of the cocks. Finally I am allowed to stand up straight and catch my breath, in doing so I see my fellow comrades being fucked in the same way. To my amusement all seem to be getting into the swing of it, even Rufus! Marcus is the last to be released and as he stretches his back he winces as he tenderly touches his backside making the warriors laugh loudly. I hear a noise to my left and am surprised to see another forty warriors marching towards us with great purpose. They are holding flaming torches as the sun has set and it is getting dark. They are as naked as the other ten warriors, with the same tattoos, gold necklaces and hairstyles, they look incredibly intimidating and if I am honest rather erotic with their macho swaggers and expressions made all the more fierce being lit by the torches. Behind them follows a familiar figure, it is the man I saw earlier on down by the river who had been trailing us, seeing my expression he laughs and nods in my direction. He is wearing the same leather trousers but this time is wearing a tunic over his upper body but his hair looks as wild as ever. Cos informs us that he is Belenos Corann, the tribe leader, and as far as we are concerned he is god. He has absolute power over your lives, one word from him and you can be killed or your life will be spared. By now Belenos has reached the group and is taking his time greeting each and every warrior before walking over to Cos and talks to him in fluent Roman, for our benefit I presume. He asks about our progress, seemingly satisfied with the response and he sits down cross legged on the ground quickly joined by a couple of warriors. They watch the ensuing action carefully and with some amusement. The remaining warriors crowd round us without saying anything they steer us towards the tree trunk where Cos instructs us to climb up and sit down on the first five seats making sure that the poles are fully inserted inside us. Feeling a little self-conscious I do as I am told, the pole itself is cock-sized and following my recent anal assault it slips in easily and I find myself sitting firmly down on the seat in no time at all. As I make myself comfortable the warriors attach my manacles to the metal loops by my wrists and feet ensuring that I am unable to move out of my seat. Looking over my shoulder I see the others are in the same position, turning back to face the front I realise that we are no longer the focus of attention for the tribe’s women have joined the warriors and there is a great deal of merriment and dancing and singing. For the next half an hour they dance around the tree trunk with their behaviour getting more and more lewd. Finally with a loud double clap from Belenos the women throw themselves to the ground swiftly followed by the warriors who waste no time in ravaging them with great gusto. Once the warriors are spent the women straighten their dresses and walk back to the huts giggling and waving to Belenos, who waves back in response. The warriors make their way over to us, unfasten our manacles and indicate for us to climb down from our seats. As I climb down I am grabbed by the waist and bent over again, bracing myself against the tree trunk I feel first one finger slip easily inside and then a second one joins it reasonably easy but when a third attempts to enter but it is met with resistance. When the fingers are withdrawn I am allowed to stand up but am pushed towards the next set of seats and told to climb up and sit down on the poles again. Looking at these poles I see that they are thicker and more tapered than the previous poles, I guess it must be half as wide again. Straddling the pole it takes a lot more effort to accommodate the poles and from the sounds behind me the others are having the same problem. Seeing our struggles five warriors climb up onto the tree trunk and placing their hands on our shoulders push down as hard as they can. Our anal rings resistance give way and with a collective groan we slide down into our seats, I am feeling rather sore but have little time to worry about it as our manacles are fastened once more into place. Belenos stands up and strolls over to us and congratulates us for having passed all of the courage tests so far but warns us that more tests are to follow which he will be monitoring closely with great interest. I feel a sense of pride developing despite my very unusual circumstances and smile in response. I pluck up the courage and ask if I may speak, he says that I may so I ask what is to be our next test? And what is the purpose of the seats that we are sitting on? All in good time, you will shortly find out. He says smiling in response. He returns to where he was sitting and then claps his hands again loudly. On the signal the warriors make loud whooping noises and start dancing and running round the tree trunk, each time they ran past the priests they scoop up wads of the fat and grease up their ever hardening cocks. When every warrior is greased up Belenos claps his hands again and it becomes a game of tag crossed with rugby tackling. It seems the object of the game is to catch another warrior, wrestle him to the ground and then fuck him senseless until the captor shoots his virile jism deep into the recipient’s rectum. The captor once spent retires from the chase and joins the applauding spectators. This game lasts for an hour until just one warrior is left lying on the ground totally exhausted and judging by the state of his anus very stretched and full of jism. Belenos calls out to the warrior who nods ruefully and staggers over to collapse at Belenos’s feet. We watch with interest to see what will happen next. Once he recovers his breath he is told to stand up, turn round with his back to Belenos, bend over and put his hands behind his knees and spread his legs wide. Belenos then rises to his feet and casually starts to finger the warrior’s anus. I am so surprised by what follows that my mouth falls open in astonishment, I have never seen anything like it and I didn’t know it was physically possible. With little reaction from the poor guy Belenos first inserts one finger, then two, then three, before a fourth disappears with great ease. I can just make out the thumb being tucked in behind the fingers before with a slight push and virtually no resistance the whole hand disappears inside. A low moan issues from his lips and I spot his hands frantically wanking his cock while Belenos slowly pulls his fist out of his anus and then reinserting it a little more forcefully than before. The moaning gets louder and louder and then with a cry the warrior shoots a long jet of jism which shines in the torchlight before it hits the ground. He collapses onto all fours, the impaling fist leaves his sloppy hole with a loud wet squelch much to the amusement of his watching comrades. I can’t believe what I have just witnessed, yet judging by the reactions of the Celts this is nothing unusual and within a minute events carry on as if it never happened. Belenos indicates to Cos that they’re ready for the next stage. Nodding Cos calls Piran and Wingallock over and the three of them walk over to us, release our manacles, instruct us to climb down and once more to bend over holding onto the tree trunk. Having done this once already we need no further guidance and assume the position required. Looking over my shoulder, I watch Cos explore my crack with his fingers before starting to insert his fingers. Having had the pole up my hole for over an hour it seems incapable of closing properly and like the poor warrior just now Cos inserts three fingers easily but he was unable to insert a fourth. He doesn’t seem too concerned about this as he says well done to me before moving onto my comrades. By the time Cos is finished with us the warriors have crowded round again and we are moved onto the final set of seats. Close up I can see their poles are even thicker than the poles we have just left behind, I would think they are about triple the size of the original poles and I am concerned about whether I will be able to accommodate such a thick pole. However we aren’t going to be given the option to refuse and as we climb up and place our anuses over the poles Cos advise us to relax as much as possible and to even welcome the intrusion as it will make it easier and less painful. Belenos has walked over unnoticed and agrees with Cos, he says they will be providing a distraction to help us relax and swallow the poles completely. He remains there standing watching our efforts as the first couple of inches of the poles slide into our rectums before stopping as resistance is met. Once again our manacles are attached to the metal hoops preventing us from escaping the impalement, try as I might I simply cannot relax and my sinking down the pole stops. However Belenos is good as his word and returning to his spot he claps his hands as Cos and the priests retrieve the pots of fat. The warriors whoop their war cry once more and start their dancing and running round the tree trunk. This time as they grab a handful of fat from the priests pots they grease up their hands rather than their cocks. Again when every warrior has greased his hands Belenos double claps his hands and the chase game starts once more. This time when a catch is made the captive bends over at the waist, spreads his cheeks with his hands, presenting his anus to his captor who wastes no time in pushing his fist deep inside the waiting hole. The two warriors remain joined that way while slowly walking round the tree trunk until another warrior catches up with them and inserts his fist into the warrior at the rear. I am so taken with the spectacle taking place I completely forget about the pole impaling me and before I know it I am sitting firmly down on the seat with the pole fully inserted! I look down in surprise at this and also at my cock which is erect and throbbing for release, however I have no hands to bring it relief so I remain frustrated. Eventually the warriors form one unending chain of impaled holes, at which point they stop walking and start to fist fuck the hole in front. The sight is incredible and the squelching sounds totally overpowering, so much so that my cock explodes untouched sending jets of jism along the trunk in front of me. One by one the warriors orgasm and shoot their jism to the ground before slowly disengaging from each other and wiping their hands on the grass. Then with a great deal of laughing and jostling they give each other group hugs before crowding round us. Belenos joins them and praises them for their courage and teamwork, they cheer in response, even more so when they’re informed that we’re to be released and the next test is to commence. I think I know what is coming! Piran and Wingallock release our manacles which are also removed from our wrists and ankles then indicate we are to climb down and join the warriors. Rather stiff I climb off slowly, the pole exits my hole with a wet fart which is heard by the others making them laugh. As I wait for the others to climb down I study the warriors more closely. To a man they are extremely fit, muscular and have a deep tan all over their bodies indicating to me that being naked is the normal state for them. They all have intricate woad tattoos covering most of their bodies and have a natural grace about them. I also notice how affectionate they are with each other despite their very evident machismo, I guess the games I have just witnessed prevents pride and barriers developing and causing problems within the group. It is hard to act better than someone else when you have had their hand up your backside. I am brought out of my reverie by two pairs of hands grabbing me and turning me to face the tree trunk, I don’t offer any resistance when I am bent over and feel the cheeks of my arse being pulled apart. I can tell my hole is loose from the way the cool night air flows in through my ring. I hear approving noises behind me so I guess this is the effect they are seeking and then the subtle noise of a fist being greased up. I can feel fingers exploring my ring pulling its lips further apart before they are carefully inserted. Concentrating I think I can feel four being pushed inside but then as I begin to doubt my counting I feel my ring, with some resistance, stretch further. There is a little bit of discomfort but then it is over and I feel incredibly full. Confused by this sensation I look over my shoulder to be greeted by the vision of a hand buried up to the wrist in my arse. The hand belongs to Belenos, of all people and he has a triumphant look on his face. He looks up at me briefly before returning his attention to his fist which he is slowly pulling out before moving onto Felix’s hole waiting next to me. I think it’s all over but I am mistaken for my hole is quickly filled again with the fist of a waiting warrior, who pumps my hole a couple of times before moving on only to be replaced by the next warrior waiting patiently behind him. After about ten fists being inserted I begin to lose count and become absorbed in the pleasure that the warriors fists are providing. Looking up I see Cos standing the other side of the tree trunk watching the five of us and the long queue of warriors waiting to plunge their fists into our increasingly sloppy holes. Catching his gaze I ask him what is the purpose of this latest activity, smiling he says that we are being honoured and accepted by the men for we have passed every test put before us. Tomorrow we will face the final round of tests before full acceptance into the tribe. This gives me something to think about! Finally the last fist has made its way deep inside me, I can barely feel it entering or exiting, my ring has given up the ghost for the time being. The priests lead us staggering back to the hut where we slept last night; again there is a large pot of stew and a pile of bread chunks. To our joy we find a pile of blankets and furs, at least we will be able to keep warm and rest our aching butts.”

 

The vision fades before my eyes and reality floods back in. My mouth is dry and I feel mentally exhausted from recounting my memories. Michael gently hands me a glass of water giving me a smile filled with concern, I smile in response and assure him that although I am tired I am okay, so there is no need for him to worry about me. Glancing over to Elliott I see that he is more animated and his trousers are sporting a tent pole, clearly he has been enjoying my tale.

 

Abruptly he stands up; with a thoughtful look on his face and a discreet rearrangement of his trousers he paces the room before turning to me.

 

“I don’t want to sound like I’m doubting you, but what you have said is true isn’t it?

 

Not totally surprised I reply

 

“As far as I am concerned everything I have said is an accurate recount of what I have seen and experienced. As I have said before it is like watching a movie in which you have no control of its course of action, yet it feels like you have been an actor within the film so you know it from the inside as well as being a spectator.”

 

“Okay love. I know I know. It’s just being an observer it’s a lot to take in and I’m trying not to get swept up in the story telling, I would like to remain objective as much as possible.”

 

I accept what he is trying to say so I suggest that we retire to the kitchen for a change of scenery and hopefully subject. Michael and Elliott sit down at the kitchen table quietly chatting, unfortunately I am unable to make out what they’re saying as I’m over the other side of the room and the kettle is rumbling in my ear. By the time I join them at the table they are clearly in agreement and smile in unison at me.

 

“Okay guys, what have you two cooked up?”

 

“I was simply suggesting to Elliott that between tomorrow and our next session he might like to do undertake some independent research using the information you have provided so far from tonight and last week. That way he can satisfy his need to remain analytical and that he is making a contribution to this journey you two are on.”

 

“You’ve hit the nail on the head Michael” Elliott added nodding his head slowly “I want to take an active but supporting role here and if I can find some concrete evidence to back up what you have been saying then that can only be a good thing for all of us.”

 

In the face of their calm logic I had no choice but to agree and if I was being honest it would be real boost to have corroborative evidence to know that my visions were real memories and not a result of an overactive imagination.

 

Then while I sit sipping my coffee a revelation hits me like a bolt of lightning! “I knew it!” I exclaim, breaking the other two’s trains of thought. “I have just realised who Cos reminds me of, it’s you Michael. Okay you’re not identical because you’re different ages and different colouring but your expressions and personalities are the same. It’s the same feeling as when I look at Elliott and then remember Belenos.”

 

Michael smiles slowly and after a short pause simply says “I have been told by a reliable medium that I was a high ranking priest in a former life but this not something I have explored in any depth. I think we should wait and see what Elliott uncovers before I say anything else on the subject.”

 

Taking the hint we change the subject and it is not too long before Michael arranges for next week’s session before taking his leave and bidding us good night with a vigorous hand shake. As we tidy up the kitchen and living room all I can think about is my head hitting the pillow, Elliott must have seen the tiredness etched on my face because he tells me to go on up, have a shower and go to bed. I need no second telling, I never do hear him coming to bed and crawling in beside me.

 

I wake up the following morning to the smell of coffee and warm croissants wafting up the stairs. Mmm my favourite way to wake up on a Sunday! I am still smiling to myself when the figure of Elliott enters the room carefully carrying a tray of croissants and two large mugs of steaming coffee. He was a sight for sore eyes, wearing just a pair of white boxers and with his hair still sleep tousled all the reasons why I love him so much come flooding back.

 

“Morning sleepyhead.” he greets me with a heart warming smile.

 

“Mmm... come back to bed, I’ve got a little something for you, I think you might like it.” I murmur in the most seductive tone I can manage.

 

“Ugh Ugh! I’m not falling for that one! I’ve got plans for us today which I will tell you about over breakfast, if I let you have your wicked way we won’t have time to fit it all in which will then put me behind.” He retorted in tone he reserved for when he had a goal and didn’t want to be diverted from it.

 

Deciding the game was over I sat up in bed, smoothed the duvet straight and took the tray offered to me while Elliott climbed in beside me. While I sipped my coffee and ate my croissants (trying hard not to spill any crumbs) I took in the itinerary for the day, Elliott had decided that there was no time like the present to start his researching and as today was Sunday this was going to be the only day we would be together all day before the next session. He had been busy preparing a packed lunch and had got our walking gear out along with a large scale map of Exeter and the surrounding areas. Having cleared away the breakfast things he unfurled the map and asked me to study it paying particular attention to the river and the smaller villages rather than Exeter itself.

 

“Why?” I asked.

 

“Well Exeter as it is today wouldn’t have existed; at most it would only have been a village no bigger than the others in the area. From what I can remember from your first regression you said that you were heading for Exeter so obviously you hadn’t got there yet. I was hoping that by looking at the river, assuming its course hasn’t changed too much over the years that you may recognise a place name or area and we start to narrow down the site where the battle happened and perhaps even your fort.” Elliott sounded ever the optimist.

 

“Sounds logical to me I guess except that you have to remember I was only eighteen years old at the time and sightseeing wouldn’t have been the highest of my priorities.”

 

“Well give it a go, we’ve got nothing to lose except a couple of hours walking exercise and who knows we might actually find something.”

 

Having studied the map for about twenty minutes the only suggestion I could make was that we find somewhere to park just outside of Exeter and walk upstream away from it and hope that the scenery jogs a memory or two. Without further ado we got dressed, shaved, put on our walking gear picked up our packed lunch and jumped into our car. For some reason I felt a sense of excitement, perhaps it was the possibility that I might just be taking the first steps to obtaining evidence of my previous life.

 

We decided to park at Exeter University as the campus car park is huge and nobody would recognise our little car parked there for a few hours. Walking down through the University and over the main road I can see the River Exe in front of me and my excitement levels rise considerably like a child seeing the seaside for the first time. Elliott does his best to rein me in and keeps the conversation flowing to distract me and also to discreetly quiz me over my memories of the area.

 

After half a mile or so the river splits into two, the river Exe off to the right and the river Yeo to the left.

 

“Which way do you want to go?” Elliott asks.

 

“I don’t know.” I reply frowning “I don’t recognise this stretch at all but my gut feeling is to follow the right hand branch which according to the map is the river Exe.”

 

“Right, it is then.”

 

We follow the twisting turning river banks, taking in the scenery and holding hands like boys out on a big adventure for the first time. The river splits again, this time instead of staying with the river Exe I again choose the right hand branch which is the river Culm. On and on we walk but still nothing triggers any memories. I can feel my optimism beginning to wane, or is that just my hunger grumbling within? I express my feelings to Elliott who in an attempt to keep my spirits up points out that Stoke Canon is within half a mile and he’s heard that there is a decent pub there; perhaps we might like to stop for a pint and have a sandwich? The mention of a pint does the trick and miraculously my pace picks up and sure enough, the town bridge looms in sight and we climb up the steps leaving the river behind for the time being. Sitting in the beer garden of the nearest pub we take our time to study the map again, just to see if anything jogs my memory but nope, dead as a dodo, nothing springs to mind. Finishing the last mouthful of sandwich and downing my beer I return our plates and glasses to the bar before rejoining Elliott at the front of the pub where he is talking to an elderly couple also dressed up for walking. As I approach they look over and the lady smiles and wishes me good luck in my quest. I thank her politely and then once they have walked on turn to ask Elliott what had been discussed in my absence.

 

“Oh, nothing much really, I had simply asked if they knew the local area and if there were any sites of historical interest near here. I am pleased to say that there are, both Roman and Celtic ruins have been found and they gave me a quick resume on what they knew. It all looks very promising, I must say. Please don’t ask me for further information, I would like to keep that to myself because I don’t want to colour your perceptions of the area and we want to have your genuine reactions if or when you come across anything which triggers a memory.”

 

This sounded reasonable to me, so I simply nodded in agreement and followed him back to the river and we continued on our journey upstream. For what seems an eternity we walk on and I am beginning to think this is going to be a complete waste of time, when turning a bend in the river I see something which stops me in my tracks. To my right is the gentle sloping flanks of a hill, I am filled with both a sense of dread and of elation all mixed up into one jumbled mess. It takes Elliott a moment to realise that I am not walking beside him; he stops, looks over his shoulder at me.

 

“Have we seen something of interest?” He asks with a twinkle lighting up his eyes.

 

“Perhaps” I answer vaguely. “The hill to our right seems familiar and I know that I haven’t been here before or seen pictures of it, perhaps if we walk on a bit further I will see if there is anything more I can pick up on.”

 

We carry on walking, all the time I am getting a clearer picture of the landmark in front of me, it has a distinct peak which keeps drawing my attention and urging me to climb towards it. At the same time the sense of dread is growing stronger becoming more like fear with every step. Finally I can bear it no longer and announce to Elliott that I have to get off this path immediately and that I want to climb up to the peak of the hill where we will be safe.

 

“Safe from what?” Elliott asks with concern showing clearly on his face.

 

“Them.” Is all I say and march off heading directly across the grassy meadow to the wooded slopes above.

 

Elliott runs to catch up with me but with the pace I am setting and the uneven ground beneath our feet he is unable to question me further. My sense of fear and dread slowly fade as I make my way up the slopes towards the peak; the wooded area was deceptive, from a distance it appeared thick but close up it was far more open and in fact looked more like a managed estate than wildwood. When I had reached the summit I could see why, for in the distance I could see a large mansion surrounded by ornate gardens and beyond that the open woodlands which extended nearly to the hill top. Only the very top was left open and windswept. At last I stopped marching and with a satisfied grin on my face I slowly turned 360 degrees absorbing the panorama before me. Elliott stood beside me silently taking in the view too before asking

 

“How do you feel now?”

 

“Contented. At home. Nostalgic. Sad. Happy. All these emotions wrapped up together. It’s hard to describe really.”

 

“How about hungry? I’m starving and we’ve got a full packed lunch to eat yet!” Elliott announced as he shucked his backpack and sat down on the grass.

 

“Now that you mention it, I could eat a horse. All that walking burns sure builds up an appetite.” I agree and sit down next to him.

 

For the next half an hour we sit and eat the food we had brought with us in relaxed silence, both lost in thought but at the same time enjoying each other’s company.

 

“Do you know what?” I said, giving him a thoughtful look. “There is nowhere in the world that I want to be except by your side, always.”

 

Looking me straight in the eye, with a serious expression for once Elliott replied

 

“I believe you. I feel the same way too. I have a gut feeling that this isn’t the first time we have felt this way before either.”

 

“Really? Does that mean you are beginning to believe what I have been saying during my regression sessions?”

 

“Well let’s just say that I am less doubtful and more confident that I will find concrete evidence to support your claims. When we get back I will be starting my research in earnest, I just wanted to know what today would bring before I began. Now before we head home there is just one more experiment I need to carry out. So if you don’t mind please lay down on the grass, on your back with your hands behind your head and close your eyes – don’t open them until I say so.”

 

Curious, I do as I’m told. Laying back with eyes closed makes me more conscious of the sounds around me; the gentle whispering of the grass as the wind blows over it, the cries of birds in the undergrowth and nearby tree and the distant rumbling from the M5 a few miles away. I hear the rustle of clothing nearby, then a very familiar sound of a zip being opened, mine! Followed by my belt buckle being undone and my trouser button unfastened. Raising my hips slightly to assist, my trousers were pulled down to my knees exposing my boxer shorts. Then deft fingers reached inside through the front flap and released my rapidly expanding cock. The cool air aroused it further, by the time I felt his breath on my cockhead it was already fully hard and raring to go. Then light as a feather’s touch his tongue starts to lick my shaft from it base all the way up, until the head is reached and his lips joins the tongue enveloping it in a warm wet embrace. I groan in response and buck my hips in an attempt to drive my cock in deeper, but am thwarted by a pair of strong hands holding me down. As he starts to bob up and down on my pole my hands move from under my head and gently place themselves on his head, fingers entwined through his blonde locks. Slowly but surely his blowjob gains in momentum and before long I am unable to hold back my orgasm and with a stifled groan I shoot my jism down his throat. Elliott continues sucking me until no more jism leaks out and my cock has deflated to its normal size again. Sitting up he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and announces.

 

“The final experiment has been successfully completed and I am pleased to announce that your spunk tastes just as delicious out here in the open as it does back home in bed. Thank you for your co-operation.”

 

“Why thank you kind sir!” I reply, winking “I am glad to have been of assistance.”

 

“Time’s getting on young man, we’ve got one hell of a walk home or shall we be extravagant and walk down to the main road over there by that mansion and get a taxi back to the University?”

 

“I think a taxi sounds a fantastic idea. I don’t think my legs will carry me all the way back along the river; we must have walked literally miles to get here. Have we got enough cash on us for the fare?” I asked, recalling that I only had a tenner in my wallet.

 

“Sure have, I brought plenty with me as I knew we wouldn’t be near any cash points”.

 

Decision made, we packed up our picnic and made our way down the other side of the hill in the direction of the mansion. Half an hour later we were climbing into the back of the taxi and heading back to Exeter and our car still waiting for us in the University car park. Nothing else about my experiences and reactions were discussed for the rest of the weekend and following week and life carried on as before. Okay I know Elliott was busy on the internet and in the town hall and museum but not once did he reveal any findings and in the spirit of the agreement I didn’t ask him any questions.

 

 

Chapter 4: 3rd Regression Therapy Session

 

It’s Saturday evening again; this time unlike the previous two occasions I am no longer nervous, instead I am keen to get on with it and see what will be revealed tonight. I greet Michael warmly giving him a big hug, which he returns with a grin and raised eyebrows.

 

“What have I done to deserve such a reception?”

 

“Oh, nothing really, it just feels now that you’re a friend of ours and from my perspective it has a lot of depth and history to it beyond the here and now, if you get my drift.” I replied sincerely releasing him from my grip.

 

“I’m really pleased because the feeling is mutual I can assure you. When this is all over there is so much I would like to share with you two but not until then as I don’t want to lead you in any way.”

 

With that the subject was closed and Michael walked into the living room to greet Elliott with a vigorous hand shake.

 

Twenty minutes later I am once more sitting in my arm chair with Michael regressing me back to my distant memories.

 

“Sean, I want you to go back again the time when you were Caius Artorius Vitalis; this time I want you to go to the happiest event you can remember and describe what you are experiencing.”

 

“Do not call me by that name; it is no longer my name. I not a Roman, I am now an honorary Celt and a warrior too.”

 

“A Celtic warrior? What is your name now?”

 

“My name is Agro Cethin. I have been granted the full status of warrior by my lord and husband Belenos Corann.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“I am 25”

 

“What is happening?”

 

“It is the day of our wedding. Today Belenos and I are getting married in the presence of his favourite wife, Moina, and the leaders of our allied tribes.”

 

“Are you still at the camp?”

 

“No. That camp only used for training the warriors and their families. Most people live in the town called Caerwysc some five miles away, or as the Romans insist calling it, Isca Dumnoniorum. We are there preparing for the ceremony and greeting our allies. There is a lot of excitement, commotion and high expectations.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because this is the first time there has been two joint tribal chiefs with one being an ex-Roman. They are hoping this will be the turning point in our resistance to the occupying forces of the Roman armies and they will be driven out of our lands. The druids say the gods are on our side now and victory will be ours.”

 

“What does Belenos’ wife think about this marriage?”

 

“Moina is happy, why wouldn’t she be? She now has two handsome men to fuck her and give her children, then when she is not in the mood for sex there is another person who can take it instead. Also her position is better assured because should either of us be killed in battle then she will still have another husband to support her unlike other women in her position.”

 

“Are you happy?”

 

“Extremely. I have everything in life that I can possibly want. I could never have risen to this position of power if I had remained a Roman, I would still be a centurion.”

 

“Have you been accepted by the other tribe members.”

 

“I am now. Initially they didn’t trust me because I was a Roman but as I trained to become a warrior and took my final vow of allegiance they finally accepted me. Then when Belenos decided to have me as his then my position was assured, I haven’t looked back since.”

 

“Take me to the ceremony, what is happening?”

 

“Belenos, Moina and I are standing as a triangle holding hands surrounded by a circle of twelve tribal elders and one senior druid. They are walking round us slowly chanting religious extracts of the druid faith. They stop walking and the druid stands next to us. Each of us swear vows of love and allegiance to each other and to the tribe which is greeted with cheers by the onlookers. I am given a golden spiral bracelet made especially for me from the last successful raid on the Roman merchants last month. I hold my arm in the air proudly showing off the bracelet. By now the elders have returned to their seats and the three of us sit at one end of the room with Belenos sitting in the middle with his arms draped over our shoulders appearing very pleased with himself. He announces that the celebrations can now start in earnest.”

 

“What are the celebrations?”

 

“Very much like they are today. Lots of food and drink is consumed, everyone is dancing and having great time. Some younger couples are getting amorous and having sex at the edges of the room or outside where it is cooler, much to the consternation of some of the elders. However most of us find it either amusing or turn a blind eye to it, after all it is the most natural thing in the world and this occasion is for everyone to enjoy.”

 

“What happens afterwards?”

 

“It is nearly dawn before we leave, by now the elders have long since retired and the revellers are very drunk with many sleeping where they lay or sit. We make our way back to our house, it seems strange to be married to them both, before I was Belenos’s bit on the side so to speak, so Moina was compelled to officially ignore the arrangement but now we can openly be the best of friends loving the same man and maybe one day love each other as well. Belenos suggests all three of us consummate our marriage but Moina and I groan in unison as we’re both too drunk and exhausted to oblige. However we catch each other’s eyes making us giggle, then laughing madly we throw ourselves at him covering him with drunken kisses. I don’t know what happens next, it’s a blank. I wake up in the morning with a rip roaring hangover, holding my head as if it’s about to explode I look across the bed at the other two who are still sleeping. It is only then I realise that we’re still in our clothes from last night so I guess nothing did actually happen.”

 

“You mentioned that you trained as a warrior, what did this involve?”

 

“The morning after the night we were tested by the druids and warriors started slowly, we were allowed to sleep in until nearly mid-day but then the work on training us started in earnest. For the next six months we are trained in the art of guerrilla warfare for which the Celts are famous and hand to hand combat. Everyday follows the same routine; we rise at dawn, go for a two mile run, on our return we have a light breakfast before spending the rest of the day training with groups of warriors. Sometimes it is about fighting, other times it is about border patrols, tracking and spying. Then at sunset we gather down by the river to wash away the sweat and dust of the day before eating the main meal of the day. Every fourth day after the main meal we go to the temple where Cos and the two priests work and we are cleaned out thoroughly. From there we go to the hill camp and open ourselves up on the tree trunk and wait for the warriors to arrive.”

 

“All of them? Like when you were tested?”

 

“No, not all of them, only the ones that feel the need to release their load or simply feel like it.”

 

“What happens?”

 

“We service them in any way they want. Sometimes it is just a blow job or a quick fuck. Other times they will fist us or they want to be fisted, because they have a duty to remain open too. Occasionally, particularly when Belenos attends it turns into an orgy because every warrior there will want to demonstrate their prowess hoping to impress him and thereby increase their standing.”

 

“Do the women participate?”

 

“No. Only when it’s a full moon because they believe they will fall pregnant easier then they’re allowed to join in but can’t have sex with us trainees as we’re not classed as tribe members yet.”

 

“What about clothing, what do you wear?”

 

“Nothing. Since our capture we’ve not been allowed to wear anything, all trainee warriors remain naked until they complete their training. It is felt that this way it toughens up the men and encourages the public image of being fierce warriors. The only comfort we have is a blanket at night to keep warm but that is only when it is cold. After a while it feels completely normal and to have anything on your skins feels unnatural, you should see my tan, I am brown all over! The only shame is that the tattoos don’t stand out on us like they do with the natives, but we do look exotic all the same which attracts the attention of many locals and visitors.”

 

“How do you come to the attention of Belenos?”

 

“From the start there has been a mutual attraction which has had an influence, but he is too much of a leader and warrior to let this be the deciding factor. I think it was the fact that I demonstrated the greatest willingness to learn all things Celtic and become one of the lads, as it were that swung it for me. Plus I was always happy to take all that he wanted to give me including on one memorable occasion both his fists at once. Okay I did have trouble walking the next day but I was damned proud of my achievement!”

 

“What happened after the six months training period?”

 

“By the end of the six months our training is over, I have had the full tribal tattoos etched into my skin and joined Belenos’ personal bodyguard squad which is a huge responsibility but a golden opportunity to be close to Belenos on a daily basis. There was a ‘passing out’ ceremony of sorts, we were presented to Belenos in front of all the other warriors and given our golden torque necklaces which we would wear at all times as a sign of our status and matter of pride.”

 

“And then?”

 

“My life slips into a routine and the next six years pass by so quickly as I concentrate on my ‘career’ and establishing myself within my new found community. During that time Belenos slowly becomes aware of my presence, seeing the real me rather than just another warrior in the ranks. Then within the last six months it’s like a switch has been flicked and we have become good friends. I am fiercely loyal to him and will defend him to the death without a thought.”

 

As the last sentence leaves my lips an overwhelming sadness hits me and I start to cry, breaking the connection to my memories. Opening my eyes I am disorientated and it takes a couple of minutes to stabilise my thoughts. I feel the comforting arms of Elliott wrap around my shoulders and he kisses me tenderly on the top of my head, gently rocking me as my sobs slowly subside.

 

We take a convenience break, after which I suggest we continue as I want to discover the reason for the sadness. Both Michael and Elliott express concern over this but I assure them I am okay and want to do this. Deferring to my instance Michael regresses me once more, this time I don’t instantly see any images, the canvas remains blank.

and

“I would like you to tell me what happened to make you so sad.”

 

Still no images appear so I say so.

 

“Okay. I want you to go forward in time by a couple of days, tell me what is happening.”

 

“I am hurting all over, badly injured and feeling humiliated. I am full of murderous thoughts, all I can think of is exacting revenge on the occupying Romans and how lonely I feel. I am under house arrest pending the Emperor’s decision on my fate.”

 

“Why? What has happened? I know it is painful but you must tell me.”

 

“Two days ago the Romans arrived again, they promised that they came in peace seeking a treaty so that the fighting would be over once and for all. But they lied, as we sat round the negotiating table further legions over ran our defences and massacred our men. The alarm was raised but it was too late, Belenos, the true warrior that he was went to join the fight but his move was anticipated. He was quickly captured, as I was too, but he defied them to the end and before my very eyes he was executed in cold blood. I went berserk seeking to join him in death but they wanted me alive so disarmed me, leaving me tied up in the town square next to his bloodied body, to serve as a reminder to the local population of the consequences of resisting them.”

 

“Why have they spared your life?”

 

“It is their way. They have removed the real power on the throne so the resistance has been stopped in its tracks. With me alive and showing that I obey the Roman rules the populace are likely to behave, but if I am killed too then there will be a power vacuum which will only cause more unrest.”

 

“What has happened to Moina?”

 

“I don’t know. She was visiting her mother across town at the time of the attack, I have never seen her again and that breaks my heart too. The Romans will not or cannot tell me what has happened to her.”

 

“How long are you kept under house arrest?”

 

“It is a lifelong sentence, I am to be a puppet ruler.”

 

“I want to bring you forward in time, to the point of your own death. How old are you and how do you die?”

 

I feel myself aging as he speaks and my voice developes a quiver as I speak.

 

“I feel ancient, by my reckoning between 68 and 70. It is hard to say for sure as I don’t have birth certificate! It is early morning and the sun is just beginning to rise. Something catches my eye; someone has just entered my bedroom. Impossible! No one is allowed inside my house at this time of the day. I can’t believe my eyes, it’s Belenos standing there, looking just as young and handsome as on the day he died. He smiles at me and says ‘It’s time my love, come with me to the other side, I’ve been waiting and watching over you for such a very long time.’ As he walks up to me I hold my hands out to him and it is then that my heart skips a beat, then two beats, then three. In fact my heart has stopped altogether and my body collapses to the floor still with a smile on its face, however I’m not there I’ve already moved on.”

 

Blackness envelopes my mind and I wake with jolt back to the 21st Century and the tear filled eyes of Elliott and Michael. As I gather my senses I rise and walk out into the kitchen before making my way into the garden to get some fresh air. Returning to the kitchen, I put the kettle on and turn to face the two of them having followed me out of the living room.

 

“Well, I didn’t see that one coming! Did you guys?!” I said with just a trace of false humour to my voice, trying to make light of the situation.

 

“Heavens! No I didn’t” Elliott said shaking his head. “I guessed it was probably bad news by the way you broke down in tears, but I wasn’t expecting it to be quite such bad news. It kind of makes sense from what I have managed to find out historically but there are such large gaps in the history records that many different scenarios were possible and history would have been none the wiser.”

 

“Oh, that reminds me.” I say to Elliott. “What exactly did you find out in your researching? Did any of it tie up?”

 

“Well, you already know that Celtic and Roman artefacts have been found at Exeter and Killerton Hill. I have found accounts of a tribe in the area which did for a couple of decades put up resistance to the Roman invasion before succumbing like all the other tribes in the country. There is anecdotal mention made of a Belenos Corann possibly being the last leader of this tribe but it is very sketchy and there is no mention made of any successors or associates. How you describe the warriors and their battle dress code does closely match the history record but obviously nothing is said of their ‘recreational’ activities.”

 

Michael looked from me to Elliott and back again before quietly announcing

 

“I had a pretty good idea of the outcome although I wasn’t absolutely sure. As I mentioned following your second regression I have been told by a medium that in a former life I was a high ranking priest and I said that I hadn’t explored this idea very much. Well this isn’t strictly true, I have done a bit of regression myself and it ties in very much with what you have said, obviously it is from a different view point but nevertheless it ties in quite nicely. After the Roman invasion of Exeter our paths never crossed again, I fled the area after helping Moina escape too in disguise. I believe Moina managed to find sanctuary in Ireland and lead a reasonable life for her remaining years. I too tried to head for Ireland, however the boat I sailed across the Irish Sea in vanished without a trace during a storm resulting in me drowning.”

 

“Oh.” Was all I could reply with.

 

“At least now I understand why I feel so at home in Exeter and the surrounding areas and why Elliott is so dear to me. We’ve found love and each other a second time around. One thing though which I don’t understand about all this is that if the three of us have met up again in this life, where’s Moina?” I asked.

 

“Don’t you recognise Naomi then?” Michael asked with an amused tone to his voice.