The Prefect's Purse (II): The Sewer

We were well into the eleventh hour of the day. Outside evening was drawing closer, while inside Herod’s baths ws awash with men taking in the last few hours of free sex before closing. 
And here am I, a right madman, screwing the shitting Hades out of a virtual stranger. Alcibiades, the guy taking the brunt of my pole, was a virgin fuck, or the nearest thing to it in the backwater known as Caesaria Martima.

As Alcibiades bent to receive me, I marvelled at his smooth round buns. They formed a sweet, full mound flexing and contracting with each stroke, gripping then relaxing between gasps.
I pulled back just to spit more lube on my shaft. His hole opened then clammed tight as an oyster when I pulled all the way out. I reached for my abandoned phial of olive oil, it had a light fragrance of thymus and coriandrum. A few drops shimmered across the palm of my hand in the dim light, and it smoothed out amply along the full rigid intensity of my cock.

‘Nice,’ Alcibiades whispered in a half-turn to see what I was doing. Turning fully he cupped his hands around my knob and breathed in deeply. ‘Sick it back in me.’
I pushed his shoulder around so that I could started to ride him again. Yet long before I had penetrated him to the hilt his cries had become bearly suppressed shouts. He reached out trying to get hold of anything to grip on and bite, the bars of the shelves, the bails of towels, his own arm.

‘Give me a break!’ Alcibiades called after the fifth full length. He moved to change position by standing along the narrow opening, lifting one leg on to a rung of the shelves. 
That’s when I noticed we’d attracted an audience. Men peered in, watching eagerly for the next scene. They jostled to get the best view, ready to off load their wads with the show. ‘Now,’ Alcibiades gave me one of his winks, ‘screw me hard, make me really feel it.’

I’d never done it as a show piece before, not even in one of the temples dedicated to the goddess of desire and fertility. I wasn’t sure about the whole thing anyway, but Alcibiades waggled his arse and invited me in. I poked more spit and oil up his gap, enjoying the feeling as his hole caressed my fingers. Then I steady up to that willing crack and rammed right in. He screamed aloud. He cried. I thought his heart would burst, but the more it hurt the more he shouted for more.

I pulled his head back by the hair and straightened him up so I could get at his dick. Grabbing hold of his chest I held him close, fucked him and pulled on his rapidly engorging pole. His hefty rod felt dry under my hand so I used more spit to wank him, this sent him into spasms. I pounded his hole, harder, and yanked sloppily in a twisting motion across his fat knob end. 
He pulled my hand away and held it tight. And he wailed aloud as vast amounts of jizz shot out and into the audience while I concentrated on filling his hole with my seed.

The crowd drifted away from the pool of cum as the two of us sagged to the floor in a heap of sweaty exhaustion. We breathed together in a cuddle, more genuinely intimate after the screw than at anytime during it. And we laughed when an old slave came passed and slipped on the spew, he nearly brought the shelving down on top of us all. I got up and helped the old fellow to regain is composure, even amid the stream of foul sounding local curses raging at me.

‘Last one to the Tepidarium’s a sissy,’ Acibiades whooped as he smacked my bum and ran off through a bunch of guys trying to take our place in between the shelves.
‘Oi!’ I called, and made after him, leaving the slave upright but outraged.

Alcibiades reached the entrance back out to the foyer before me, he made a nifty zig-zag through a late influx of sexed-up bathers, but I weaved passed them. I even had time to wave at Rudio as I pulled right in front of Alcibiades. I felt him grip my arm tight, as if to hold me back. But his grip was too tight. It was more than play.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked as some youths push away from us.

Alcibiades gave no answer, his eyes were wild in panic. 
I raised my hand to hail Rudio, then took Alcibiades in both hands. “What is the matter?’
A spurt of frothy blood streamed from his mouth.

Rudio was beside me in seconds. ‘There!’ he pointed at the youths trapped in a gaggle heading toward the baths, ‘one has blood on him.’
I tore after the group, pushing men over and elbowing aside others in my way. The youths split, but I had the one showing blood in my sights. A small crowd was pressing into the baths, it seemed to sense the mood and was dodging from my path. They only caused more panic, blocking me off from the youth even more.

‘Stop him!’ I yelled, pointing out the bloodstained youth. Most merely looked, then looked back at me. A fully clothed young man stepped forward to grab the lad. A scuffle started, and a cry was let loose nearby, ‘He has a knife!’ This time bodies dissolved, so I was able to get to the scene of the struggle. But too late.

‘Sorry, sir. He was too quick, I tried to stop him but he was determined.’ Vindex, one of my young staff, had a firm grip on the lad. He let the boy’s body sag to the floor, a knife rammed neatly to the heart. ‘He knew what he was doing, sir.’

I patted the corporal to show acceptance. However I’d already started to look for the others in the band of youths.
‘The Tesserarius has organized the lads to follow the others, sir.’ Vindex read my mind.
‘Livius?’ I asked, incredulous that they had stayed behind after being dismissed.
‘Yes sir, we didn’t like the look of them Jews, and Rudio asked us to hang back.’
‘Good,’ I said, not really paying attention. I had looked back at my boy, he cradled a limp body in his arms, a light stream of blood streaking across its modesty towel.

Already it was growing dark though the air was still warm in the open access areas either side of the main foyer. I knelt beside Rudio, asking with an unspoken look. He shook his head, ‘Not long.’
Alcibiades coughed weak splutters of blood. Unable to breathe well he agonized for air. Just below his left armpit I heard the telltale sound of bubbling come from a small wound. 

A murderous weapon clearly was used, a long, thin blade, designed to rip a hole to Hades. I bent in closer to Alcibiades. He opened his eyes, and seeing me he tried to smile. With a jerk he reached across to grip hold of me, trying to speak through the ooze of blood. 

I shook my head.
‘He says it was his slave, sir.’ Rudio interpreted for me. He wiped blood from Alcibiades’ mouth and squeezed some fresh water on his parched lips.
‘A surgeon?’ I asked in desperation.
‘One is on his way.’ Rudio leaned back so that Alcibiades could not see him indicate it was no use. He leant forward in response to Alcibiades’ touch. ‘He wants you to tell Stephanus he is sorry, sir.’ Rudio snapped his fingers and slaves appeared from the alcoves in the deserted foyer. ‘A pillow, and clean water.’ He commanded them, and they obeyed in harmony. ‘Oh! boiled water,’ he called, ‘and blankets’. To me he mouthed, ‘The medic.’
‘You’ll be fine now, Alcibiades,’ I lied, ‘see, the surgical medic is here.’

The eyes looking back at me had already started to glaze as they stared into death’s shade; it took every ounce of my strength to stay. I had seen men die, of course I had, even men I had loved. But this was different somehow. I hardly knew Alcibiades. He as a semi-anonymous shag, neither of us intended anything more to develop. Yet it had.

Though the agony of being moved ripped through Alcibiades, his face alone showed it. With a tremendous effort he tried to speak to me. I leaned in further to hear, so close that blood splattered my ear as he spoke. ‘Don’t forget your promise to help,’ he whispered.

‘My promise stands firm,’ I assured him. He drifted into unconsciousness under the care of the medic and his fellow slaves. Rudio stood and laid his hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to move back. There was nothing more that I could do. ‘He is a Jew.’ I said to the medic, who pursed his lips acknowledging the customary rites that would have to be observed.
‘Your tunic, sir,’ Rudio said. He wiped of some on the blood from my face and arms, before he helped me on with the gown and my sword. ‘Here is Tesserarius Livius to report, sir.’
‘Well?’ I asked, glad to have something to do.
‘The sewer, sir’ Livius saluted as he made his report. ‘There were two entrances beneath a service shaft. The lads are down there now, I think we have a couple cornered.’
‘I hope they don’t spook them,’ I said, showing him the lad who’d killed himself rather than be taken alive by us. ‘Come, show me.’

The stench from the sewer was worse than any I’d ever come across, even Livius’ stomach churned and he heaved trying to show me the way. With only small lamps for light my sergeant revealed part of the reason for the clawing miasma. In a series of alcoves our lamps showed up the decomposing bodies of infants and untimely births. I turned at the sound of violent vomiting behind me, it was Rudio. He’d come after us.

‘Go back, Rudio,’ I ran the back of my hand across his forehead and cheek.
‘No!’ Is all he said, and even down there I felt the full intensity of his icy stare.
‘Round here, sir,’ Livius lowered his voice as we turned a corner. ‘In the middle distance.’

We left our lamps with a sentry and inched forward feeling our way by the slimy walls. Behind the barely distinguishable shadows of two slight figures a thin shaft of light seeped down into the gloom. I pointed at the weak light, and Livius leaned across to whisper in my ear. ‘A couple of the lads are on their way to get the grill open.’ His hot breath, stained lightly with wine, seemed to hover close by my face.

I thumbed behind me, and said softly to Livius as he pressed against me, ‘The others?’

Livius turned slightly, easing in even closer to me, ‘That way,’ he indicated what seemed like a forked passage in the dankness. ‘But they seem to have gone,’ he said, almost kissing me.
As he huddled into me I could feel his package through his loincloth. Two massive mounds were tight against me and his meat strained excitedly. His rough hairy legs pinned around me, one into the small of my back the other lay heavy on my thigh. Between my own legs too life had stirred into action. Whether from the proximity of the horny Tesserarius or from the elation of the pursuit, the erotic feelings offered a welcome distraction from the surrounding reek.

‘See!’ Rudio’s voice cracked low.

A crashing, grating sound eked out an echoing scream, as more light broke in along the sewer. Two little figures headed toward the light, then stopped. The voices calling down the shaft were our lads. The figures took fright and fled back along the inlet, right into the arms of our Vindex.

PART III: THE SYNAGOGUE...