One With the Darkness (25 page)

“Livia Quintus Lucellus.”

She froze. She took a breath and turned. “How may I serve Your Imperial Majesty?”

“You’re imagining your slave with my sisters.” Caligula licked his lips. “They’ll have him hard and needing now, satisfying their hungry cunts.” He examined her face and found something amusing there. “He needs a more submissive attitude. Did you have him reamed by your freedmen? That is an excellent way to subdue a prideful male body slave.”

Livia bowed her head, willing herself not to show her shock. She did not correct Caligula’s characterization of Jergan as her slave. That would only draw the emperor’s ire and could serve no one. “No, my emperor. That did not occur to me.”

“Regular reaming, mark my words, Livia Quintus. That’s what a barbarian slave needs.” He sipped his wine. “Once they know they can be raped a dozen times a day at
a word from you, they become most submissive. That one would have benefited from hard and regular use.”

“I’m sure you are right, Caesar,” she murmured.

Caligula rubbed his own genitals absently as he sipped his wine. No one around him dared speak. Beside her, Titus had turned to stone. Livia noted with alarm that Caesar’s own rod, small as it was, was quite erect. He glanced around. The banquet was in full swing, at least for half the crowd. The offended senators sat talking quietly among themselves. But Caesar’s contingent was half-naked, kissing, fondling, openly thrusting. Underneath the music of flute and harp, groans and heavy breathing sounded.

“Livia Quintus,” Caesar said, his roving glance returning to her. “You are an attractive woman. Why have we not married you to one of our inner circle?” His eyes fell on her breasts and did not stray. “Then you could play with us any time we chose.”

She suppressed a shudder. He wanted fear. So she would not show it. “That would be an honor too great to bear.”

“Nonsense, Livia Quintus. You would enjoy it. You could sample many lovers.” What he left unspoken was that they could sample her.

“As Caesar says,” she acquiesced. But she had to nip this idea in the bud. And, as with Jergan, it had to be Caesar’s idea. She couldn’t tell him she had syphilis. What else was there? The only ploy she could think of was dangerous. Anxiety for Jergan pushed her to the edge. She threw caution to the winds. “I … I admit I would truly enjoy comparing the organs available to me in the palace with that of my freedman, Jergan.” She smiled brightly. “My experience has been narrow. Though I must say his size and stamina would be difficult to replicate.”

Caesar frowned. Several people in the near vicinity drew back visibly in fear. Everyone knew Caesar was sensitive about the size of his penis. Had she gone too far? Caesar looked as though he would explode. He was actually speechless. To give in to his rage would be to admit her remark hit home, and thus to confirm that he had something to be insecure about. Did he have enough sense to know that?

Caligula rose without warning, his member just visible beneath his toga. “I would retire.”

All around him stood and bowed, including Livia and Titus. Livia breathed again. He did have that much sense.

“See that everyone remains,” he ordered Asiaticus. Then Caligula manufactured a smile and shone it around the room. “I want Incitatus to have a good time.” He didn’t want to spoil the evening for his horse? Was that insane? No, Caligula played this game with his horse to shove his absolute power down the senators’ throats. And just when everyone thought he would order her death—he didn’t. That kept them off balance, prolonged the game. She didn’t care. However it had happened, she had dodged the javelin.

Caligula stalked from the room, followed by Chaerea and a dozen of the Guard. Asiaticus looked after them with a sour expression.

Titus gave a sigh of relief and sent a speaking glance at Livia. He thought they had won through.

Livia was not so certain. She might have escaped, but what about Jergan? And where exactly was Caligula going?

J
ERGAN LAY GASPING
on the tangled coverlet as Julia shrieked her orgasm. The sisters let the cream soak in until he was rock-hard, then rinsed his organ of the residue so it would not irritate their tender flesh. They tied him,
spread-eagled, to the bedposts with silken cords and took turns riding him to their release. The friction was exquisite torture. The cream that caused him to swell allowed him no release. He was left in a state of painful arousal.

As Julia moved off him, he saw that behind her, Agrippina held one of the metal rods, its tip glowing red. He held his breath, praying to Belatucadros for strength.

“Are we ready for some punishment?” she asked rhetorically.

“Oh yes,” Julia sighed. “It’s more than time.”

With no preamble, no questions, Julia pressed the hot iron into his left hip, just in from the bone. He grunted and tried to twist away, biting his lip to keep from screaming.

The poker was withdrawn. He gasped for breath.

“Again,” Julia crowed, clapping her hands. “His chest this time.”

Agrippina handed her the iron. “You pick the place.”

Julia held the rod aloft, its glow fading a little as she pondered. Then she placed it just above the right nipple. He arched and twisted and this time a bark of pain escaped his lips before the rod was withdrawn. The scent of singed hair hung in the air.

“It makes me wet when he writhes like that,” Agrippina murmured.

“And see how he sweats? Lovely.” Julia turned to the brazier and thrust the rod back into the coals. “Was there too much cream left on his organ for you, Sister?”

“Only enough to madden me a little,” Agrippina answered.

Julia withdrew a fresh rod. “Then, Sister, do you ride him, and I will wield the poker.”

“Generous of you, Julia Lavilla,” Agrippina whispered. She touched the burn at Jergan’s hip with one finger that then strayed across his swollen cock. She opened
her robe and straddled his hips. Then she pulled up his cock and lowered herself upon it. How different from when Livia made love to him in the same position. He throbbed inside Agrippina, burning. As she raised and lowered herself, her palms pressed against his chest, the right one covering the burn her sister had just made, he felt the sear of the hot poker across his inner thigh.

Belatucadros, help a warrior who has fought in your name
, he prayed. But what did he pray for? There was no escape. They probably didn’t intend to kill him, so it wasn’t for his life. Was it his pride he mourned? He had been a slave until yesterday. What pride could a slave have? Still he wanted to end this night without begging them for mercy.

L
IVIA WIPED THE
perspiration from her forehead with a handkerchief. The Guard prevented anyone from leaving. She couldn’t just translocate from the middle of the room. It had been twenty minutes since Caligula left. She grew certain he was on his way to join his sisters. All that talk about how he would have made Jergan submit to him … Whatever Julia and Agrippina had done to Jergan, Caligula was capable of worse.

Titus had given up trying to comfort Livia. He was getting quietly drunk. That was dangerous. One needed all one’s wits about one at an imperial gathering.

Asiaticus drifted up behind her. She whirled on him. “Do not look so fierce, Livia Quintus,” he said, raising his hand, palm up, in mock surrender.

“You are responsible for me being here tonight. My freedman is arrested and no doubt being tortured, and Caesar is threatening to marry me off to one of his inner circle. Should I be glad to see you?”

He gave a half chuckle. “I have the strangest feeling
you are not what you seem, Livia Quintus, and I would most like to know how I can turn that to my advantage.”

Livia took a breath. Predictable. And one could use predictability. This man was Chaerea’s enemy. They competed for Caesar’s favor. That could be used as well. Turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it? Asiaticus wanted to use her. She wanted to reciprocate. “And what do you think I am, Decimus Valerius Asiaticus?”

“That I do not know,” he mused. “You were blistered yesterday, yet tonight you are unmarked. Is there an explanation for that?”

“Everyone in my household knows I am sensitive to the sun. I kept to my bed all yesterday while the reaction passed.” True, in a technical sense.

“Hmmmm, yes. I see that. Still … I sense a secrecy about you. The question is how can those secrets be of use to me?”

“And why would I want to be of use to you?” she snapped.

“One never knows when one will require a friend close to the emperor, Livia Quintus. You may have escaped his attention with that slight of his physical endowments, but I can assure you he has not forgotten you. I will ensure that he has not.”

The emperor could not hold her. And she would never submit to his foul attentions or those of anyone in his court. The problem was what he could do to Jergan.

T
HE MANACLES CLICKED
shut. He got his feet under him and stood at the post, his hands fastened just above his head. Two of the guards had dragged him from the bed. He was burned in four or five places, and still his cock hung heavy between his legs, red and swollen.

“Pick out a whip, Julia,” Agrippina suggested. “Not the
one with the metal tips, though. That would make him useless too soon.”

He heard rummaging.

“How about a quirt?” Julia asked. “Just heavy enough to leave stripes.” There was a rushing sound, no doubt as she cut the air with her find.

“Would my ladies like assistance in whipping the barbarian?” the guard who had been excited all evening asked.

“We want the pleasure first,” Julia tittered.

“Perhaps we’d enjoy seeing you whip him later,” Agrippina mused, “if you stripped to your loincloth to do it.”

“Your wish is my command.”

A rush of air was followed so quickly by the sear of pain, Jergan didn’t have time to prepare. It wasn’t a heavy whip. Not like the ones used on him on the long march from Gaul. He braced himself for the second blow.

Instead noisy footsteps sounded in the corridor. The door opened without knocking and Caligula entered the room. “Stay outside,” he ordered his guard.

Julia and Agrippina hurried over to their brother. He took one in each arm and traded open-mouthed kisses with them. Jergan wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the sisters were distracted or dismayed at this new arrival.

Caligula’s glance took in the braided quirt that Agrippina still held, and strayed to Jergan. “Has he confessed yet, or implicated others?”

“Silly brother,” Julia chided. “There is plenty of time for more severe questioning. Why make him unusable too quickly?”

Caligula let them go and strolled forward, examining Jergan more closely. “We see the attraction. Barbarians are so uncivilized, one has the immediate urge to dominate them.”

Jergan bit his lips and kept silent. He hoped his hatred of this brand of “civilization” and these twisted souls who embraced it did not glow in his eyes.

“You know, Sisters, chaining him to only one pole allows the pole to protect his chest and his most impressive organ.” Caligula looked around. “Guards, unfasten him and chain him between these two.” Caesar gestured to poles about four or five feet apart.

Two guards hurried over to unlock one of Jergan’s shackles. They stretched him out and locked his wrist to the other pole’s shackle. The wound at his shoulder tightened.

“Now his ankles. You’ll need to pull his legs wider.”

Jergan felt as he had in the slave market, totally vulnerable.

Caligula stalked slowly around him, tapping one finger to his lips. “We see you started with the irons.” The light touch, when it came to Jergan’s back, made him feel like an insect was crawling over him. The finger traced his newest welt. And then the hand moved down over his buttocks and slid between his cheeks. Jergan’s breath came in gasps as he tried not to give the creature the satisfaction of trying to squirm away. A finger rubbed Jergan’s anus gently.

“Have you reamed him yet?” Caligula asked. What did he mean?

“No, Brother.” Agrippina grinned at Julia. “We hadn’t yet gotten enough of his organ.”

“Has he been cleansed?”

The sisters shook their heads. “We have a basin and a bladder for the purpose, though.”

Jergan ground his teeth.
You will stand whatever they do
, he told himself. His eyes strayed to the brazier of coals and hot irons. Did they mean to…? He realized fear was creeping into his heart. He steadied his breathing.

Caligula turned to the guards. “Would one of you like to dominate this barbarian for us?”

The one who had been excited all evening cracked a smile while the other three tried to remain so impassive they were invisible. “At your command, Caesar.”

“Excellent,” Caligula remarked, turning back to Jergan. “That will be entertaining.” He stalked up to stand in front of Jergan, whose erection almost touched Caligula. How Jergan would like to spit in that cruel face. But he must maintain control. He had to think of Livia. “We’ve heard that barbarians sometimes stimulate their partners’ genitals with their mouths.” Caligula gave a mock shudder. “How horrible. Still … we feel it’s an emperor’s duty to experience all the sensations craved by our subjects. It’s why we fight in the arena on occasion.”

He meant Jergan to suck his cock? Not in this life or the next!

Livia.
If he didn’t, what would happen to Livia? He swallowed. “I am not your subject. Britannia is not part of your empire.” He had little hope that would make a difference in the choices he was given here.

“No, not a subject,” Caligula actually giggled. “We declare you slave again.”

Jergan blinked. He could do that? Of course he could. He could do anything. And now Jergan would not be a slave to an honorable and generous woman, but to this viper.

“Oh, Brother,” Agrippina said. “Excellent. Can he be our slave?”

Julia came and stroked the emperor’s other arm. “Yes, Brother. Give him to us. Then we’ll have all the time in the world to play with him.”

Caligula laughed again. “Only if we may enjoy him, too.”