Faustina and the Barbarians Read Free Page A

games begin,” I mocked.
    A slave stripped off my bonds and the shreds of my dress. I faced them, hands on hips, breasts like shield-bosses, and beckoned them with a crooked finger.
    They circled me, eyeing my exposed treasures, becoming hard. Suddenly, one had me from behind and was inserting a thick cock into my cunnus. I fell to working it immediately. There are certain moves, a kind of pyrrhic pelvic-vaginal dance, which I had studied and which can get the cum out of a man’s cock very rapidly. Coupled with a stream of verbal instigations, I’ve reduced hundreds of men to a state of non-plussed premature ejaculation. None of my warriors were quite ready for this. Crooning Ovid, and some of our lesser erotic poets, while simultaneously enveloping that first punctum in increasingly tight loops of raking rhythm, I brought it to spasm. He shot and fell back, with a bemused look on his face. The next one thrust precipitately into my anus, while another got me to my knees and pushed a great vein-engorged bulla into my mouth. This enabled me to get a balance of work rhythms that complemented each other. I sucked and blew hard and fast, in tandem with the masticating contractions of my sphincter. This was hard work, but as with all work, the secret is to enjoy it. Fortunately, I bore my warriors no ill-will; to disobey the Chief meant instant death. And thankfully, they were beautiful specimens. These thoughts spurred me to new efforts, and within seconds my arse and mouth were sticky with cum. Immediately, another began to blunder his punctum into my vacated mouth. I grabbed it, turned him around, and wanking the bemused warrior, and squeezing his balls hard, I pulled him toward the Chief, who was sitting jacking himself off, and fired its contents into his lap. The spent cocks had recharged themselves, but at the end of the hour I was proudly standing, as the bodyguards lay panting, one or two beatifically, soaked in sweat.
    Suddenly, the back of the tent was rent asunder and in flew Roderic and Ricimer! They grabbed the Chief and, throwing a cloak over me, hustled us out to their waiting horses.
    The Chief sobbed for mercy as we paused in the woods close to Flaccus’ headquarters.  
    “Stifle your sobs, Christian. I am merciful to my slaves, whose grateful ranks you have now joined.”
    The boys became decorated army auxiliaries, and I saw them often, secretly, before we finally lost touch.

    My darling, the Gods be praised. Flaccus is dead! His brains dashed out after falling off a cliff in pursuit of the goat herder’s son. I’m free. I am leaving this accursed rock.
    I shall be with you in Rome.

Chapter Two

    To: Flavia Maxima, Constantinople
    From: Faustina Maxima, Aldenburgensis, September 411

    My darling Flavia, wing-footed Mercury speed this letter to you full of a mother-in-law’s most ardent blessings. I’d been back in Rome almost five months and I still couldn’t get used to the fact that you were not there. I read and reread the letter you left me, along with the keys to your house. Thank you so much for those, my dear. I really didn’t relish the idea of house hunting in the summer months in Rome.
    You are right in your suspicions—they confirm me in my feeling that you are shaking off that pernicious naivety of yours and, belatedly, growing up—my son had you removed to Constantinople less out of concern to keep you safe from the lustful Goths than to protect you from what he calls my ‘pagan immorality’. But I have no doubt that you will soon be free of him. Yes! You must accept that private dinner invitation from Symmachus. I knew his father, a beautiful man who spawned a beautiful son. And I have no doubt that Symmachus is as discrete and gentlemanly as his father was. He will make a perfect lover. And, though I see your pretty features pout, I will repeat again, make the most of your youth for it flies quickly. But to business… I have much to tell you before my departure for Britain. That