Date: Sat, 9 May 2015 02:41:53 +0000 (UTC)
From: Mikhail Conrad <mikhailconrad@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tribune Vengence pt1

TRIBUNE VENGENCE

This is a story about sex between adult males. If that offends you (How you
got to this page if you're that kind of person puzzles me) then you know
how to leave or you should; the back button, closing the window or your
browser, even turning off your device will all work for that purpose. You
must be 18+ (21+ in certain locales) to read this legally, if you're not of
appropriate age go back now even if it doesn't offend you (my escalating
mind powers will enforce this restriction, right?). In certain places
having this story and in some really backwards places even reading it is
illegal. Be aware of the laws regarding that where you are and act
accordingly. This story is my intellectual property and may not be posted
in any way or used for anything other than personal reading without my
express permission.

Archive;'Tribune Vengence #1'{Mikhail Conrad}( MM slow )[1!3]

This is a story set in the days of Imperial Rome. I've tried to be
accurate, but if you do find any historical mistakes other than literary
liscense with the language forgive me and mark it up to fiction. Comments
are always welcome: mikhailconrad@yahoo.com


TRIBUNE VENGENCE

Chapter 1

    Garrit raised his bound hands to his lips and wiped at the congealing
blood on them. He flexed his body and felt the soreness all over from the
beating he had received at the hands of the Decanus and his eight legion
soldiers. How was he supposed to have known that the seductive bitch was
the wife of a Tribune?  The troops had burst into his cottage just at the
moment he reached his orgasm and began to spew his seed in her tight needy
quim. Everything after that was a blur. The legionaries had beaten, drug,
and kicked his naked body the whole three miles back to their outpost on
the Rhine. He was thrown into a cell in a ten foot deep trench covered by
barely hewn logs that let the light of the dying day leak through between
the chinks. It stank of urine and excrement. The smell wasn't nearly the
problem that being in the hands of the XXII Primigenia, known as Fortune's
Twenty-Second Legion was.

    The Legion was known for their cruel and demeaning actions all across
Germanica. They were in disgrace for having supported Vitellius in the
recent power struggle for the Imperium. When Vespasian came out on top, it
left the Twenty-Second out of favor and they were made to suffer for it. In
turn they passed it on, taking their hostilities out on whomever happened
to be available and at the moment that was Garrit.

    He didn't have long to wonder about his fate. Before the blood had
dried on his face, the trap door was opened above him and a pole ladder
came through it. He was ordered to climb out and he managed it despite his
injuries and bound hands mostly due to his finely honed body that he had
developed throughout his twenty-four years culminating in his appointment
as a forester. He had probably been responsible for the timbers that made
his prison as well as the pole and spokes that made the ladder. As he came
up through the opening, he looked around to see the same Decanus with just
four of his men awaiting him.

    "Get your plebe ass over here!" the Decanus ordered him brandishing his
gladius.

    Sweat broke out across his naked bruised body as Garrit stepped off the
ladder to stand before the minor officer. The man swung his short sword and
Garrit let out a sigh and closed his eyes, determined not to flinch in
front of these men. He might not have been a member of the Legions, but he
was a free Roman citizen and he was resolute in his determination to show
that no free Roman was a coward.

    "Open your fucking eyes plebe!" the Decanus ordered as he swung the
blade precisely through the rope that bound Garrit's hands, "It's not up to
me to take your pathetic life. Tribune Marius has commanded your
presence. You're probably going to wish I had cut your head off before he
finishes with you. Put this on."

    The officer grabbed a garment that one of his troops was holding and
shoved it at Garrit. It was a standard issue slave tunic of rough spun
wool. Garrit raised his aching arms and slid it over his head grateful to
at least be able to cover his nakedness. Not that he had any embarrassment
about his body, but because he felt a bit less defenselessly exposed with
the covering.

    "If I took you in front of the Tribune with your phallus swinging
between your legs, he might just slice the object of his shame off in a fit
of anger without thinking," the Decanus told him with a tone of cruelty,
"This way I'm giving him the chance to make you suffer for thinking you
were good enough for a Patrician's wife. Maybe he'll give you to the
Quaestionarius for torture and me and the boys can have a show."

    At the mention of the Legion's interrogator, Garrit shuddered. Brachus
Caltoris was well known for his abilities to carry a man to the edge of his
pain endurance and keep him alive for more of the same for many days. His
first thought was to rush these soldiers and force them to kill him, but
his second thought was inspired by his curiosity; he wanted to see this
Tribune in person. What kind of man was this Marius Albus that his
beautiful buxom wife would seek the embrace of a lowly forester over his?
Garrit decided he could always seek death at the hands of the soldiers
later after he satisfied his curiosity.

    He was escorted over to the largest building in the fortified complex
and through the open double doors past the guards and in through the arch
into the large central main hall. The Tribune sat on a backless chair on a
dais at the far end with one of his Centurions standing by his side. A
dozen legionaries stood guard around the platform.

    As he approached the stand, the Decanus gave him a shove and sent him
sprawling on his face on the hard limestone floor before the richly
carpeted wooden dais. He moved to get back to his feet and a booted foot
came down on his back pinning him to the floor. Garrit turned his head and
watched the Tribune stand and walk over to the edge of the platform and
loom over him.

    At five-eight Marius was tall for a Roman. Garrit's Germanic heritage
had given him a much larger frame than most Romans, but the Tribune was
just an inch shy of the forester's size. By comparison, the Centurion that
joined him only stood a mere five-four, but that was a respectable height
for a Roman officer. The Tribune had all the features of a noble Roman
birth, aquiline nose, dark wavy close cut hair, muscular arms and calves
that showed out of his elaborately embroidered tunic. All in all Marius
Albus was an almost perfect specimen of the Empire. Garrit couldn't see any
physical reason that his wife would choose a blonde barbarian looking plebe
over him. It had to be something else. Maybe he was cruel to her, or
perhaps his male member was inadequate.

    "Is this the forester we talked about?" the Centurion asked the
Tribune.

    "Yes," Marius answered, "Name of Garrit. He has quite the reputation
for spreading his semen all across the local area. Word has it that he's
fucked every available female he can get his hands on and a good many of
the boys as well."

    "That long blonde hair belongs on a prostitute," The Centurion stated,
"But at least he keeps himself clean shaven like a proper Roman citizen."

    Garrit took the opportunity of the two men conversing to inspect the
Century officer. The shorter man was built like a block. From what Garrit
could see revealed in the garish military uniform, the man's muscles had
muscles. His neck was as thick as a bull's and his thighs caused the bronze
plates on the skirt of his tunic to bulge outward at his sides. He had a
Patrician nose and it had been broken sometime in the past and bent
slightly to the left. His grey eyes looked intently at Garrit as the two
men talked about him.

    "Bind him," the Tribune ordered the Decanus who had his foot wedged
into the forester's middle back, "Just his hands in front of him. And then
leave us, all of you except for you Varrus. Draw the curtains behind you."

    Garrit was hauled to his feet and his hands were once again tied
securely at the wrists.  The soldiers all filed out the archway and the
Decanus let the ties go on the drapes to either side of them as he
exited. Garrit was left standing facing the dais with only the Tribune and
the Centurion looking down on him.

    "You're a slave now Garrit," Tribune Marius informed him with a smirk
and waved his hand vaguely at a scroll rack by his stool, "The papers have
already been signed."

    "But I didn't know..." the forester tried to explain.

    "You didn't know!" Marius interrupted him with a scornful voice, "That
she was my wife? I know you didn't know that. But surely you knew she was a
noble. Her attire alone would have told you that. I made sure she was
dressed accordingly. Or perhaps you didn't know that she seduced you on my
orders. You think you're here for fucking my wife? No, you're offense to me
is a whole lot more than pumping that nympho's slit. I let her get her
fucking fill of any prong she wants as long as she doesn't conceive and I
knew she wouldn't with you. She's missed her menses for the last two
moons. She's already with child and I know it's mine. I always keep her
dripping full of my seed when she's fertile."

    Garrit looked at the Legion commander with shock and confusion. He
didn't know what to say. There was more going on here that he didn't
know. The Centurion continued to stare at him like he was already on the
auction block at the slave market in Mogontiacum.

    "You're a god's cursed fuck fool Garrit," the Tribune said laughing,
"You want to know why you were set up like this with plenty of witnesses?
I'll tell you, you ignorant fuck. That was my son you buggered at the
stream last week you shit. You shoved your rod up MY SON's backside and
sent him home with your scum leaking out his plebe fucked hole. You could
have fucked any of his slave boys, but instead you chose to rut up his
hole. I'LL NOT LET ANYONE TURN MY SON INTO AN EFFETE BUTT BOY! That's why
you're where you are now, a slave, a piece of property for me to do with as
I will. That's one ejaculation I'm going to make sure you live to regret."

    Garrit remembered the boy. He came across him with his three slave boys
bathing at the stream near his cottage. Well it was apparent they were
there to bathe, but what Garrit saw when he walked into the waterside
clearing wasn't bathing. The good looking Roman boy had one of the slaves
draped over a large rock outcropping and was plowing into the moaning boy's
buttocks with abandon. The other two slaves were stroking their rods beside
them. One of the slaves caught site of Garrit and after a few seconds
realized his interest. He motioned him over. The two of them had Garrit
stripped bare in no time and began to worship his large cock with their
mouths, paying particular attention to his huge mushroom head. The Roman
boy continued to pound his slave's hole and smiled at Garrit over his
shoulder. The boy was just too pretty. In fact now that Garrit thought
about it, he favored his mother considerably.

    In a moment of lust, the forester stepped up behind the boy fucking his
slave and began to run his hands over the young man's humping ass. He
hocked up a wad of spit into his hand and smeared it between the boy's
cheeks making sure that most of it slicked up the hole between them. The
boy didn't slow down his thrusts into his slave at all, but took longer
strokes making his puckering sphincter rub erotically over Garrit's
fingers. On one outward fuck stroke, Garrit pushed his long middle finger
into the quivering hole. The boy moaned his pleasure and Garrit jerked his
finger out of the warm chute and drove his hard nine inch tool viciously
into the opening his finger had just vacated. The Boy screamed in pain and
lechery as his warm anal cavity spasmed around Garrit's manhood.

    The forester plunged the remaining length of his fuck rod into the boy
forcing him to plant his own buggering pole deeper into his slave's
rectum. The boy yelled out in ecstasy as he unloaded his creamy seed into
his slave's well fucked hole. The clutching grasp of the boy's orgasm
driven anal ring sent Garrit over the edge and he shot a series of salvoes
of his own thick sperm deep in the boy's bowels.

    Just as Garrit recovered enough to draw his long member from the boy's
well filled anus, the young Patrician looked up at the sun. He appeared to
be late for something and in a short time was dressed in his finery along
with his slaves and left quickly headed toward the river fort. Garrit was
left bare assed, phallus slowly shrinking dripping the last drops of his
copious load on the ground between his feet. He got dressed and continued
on his way, stopping to tie a cut marker on appropriate trees as he
went. The boy had been a decent fuck, but Garrit never realized it would
end up like this.

    "I can tell by the look on your face that you remember the incident,"
Marius stated, "When my boy got home, he joined me for our weekly
luncheon. When he lay down to recline on his dining couch, his anus let
loose with a loud wet flatulence. It was apparent to me and all of the
domicile slaves attending us that it was semen that was oozing down his
thighs from his nether hole. It didn't take me more than three questions to
his slave boys to get the whole tale and your description and part in
it. So now it's my turn for some satisfaction."

    Garrit looked up at the man and saw his anger. It wasn't like the
Tribune's son had protested the buggering and turned him in, the boy had
actually worked his sphincter to milk his prong of it's erupting juice. The
boy had taken his big piece so well that Garrit knew he wasn't a virgin to
being man fucked. He had just been the one to get caught and was bearing
the scorn for the boy's submissive actions. Patrician class Romans placed
great emphasis on their masculinity and that of their sons. To them it was
all well and good to be the fucker, but never would they let it be known
that they took it in the backdoor for fun and enjoyment. It was just too
passive a behavior for the ruling elite.

    "I'm turning you over Centurion Varrus here for penury actions," the
Tribune informed him, "I think you'll find your time with him educational
and quite unpleasant. He has the most submissive pleasure slaves I've ever
encountered. Would you like to show me a bit of what you have planned for
the forester, no I mean slave now Varrus?"

    The blocky Centurion stepped down to Garrit and gave him a malicious
grin. He delivered a brutal fist to the new slave's sternum causing Garrit
to double over as his breath was bludgeoned out of his lungs. The Legion
officer tripped him and shoved him back down on the stone floor. The
forester found himself wheezing on his hands and knees as his tunic was
jerked up around his neck and twisted to choke him around the neck making
it almost impossible to fill his lungs with the air he desperately
needed. His legs were roughly kicked apart at the knees and he felt the
body of the officer shove his way between them. Bare rough fingers rammed
their way into his butt crack and dug rapaciously into his exposed
anus. Garrit let out a scream as Varrus forced his four dry thick fingers
into his chute. The burning knife cutting pain didn't end there. The
Centurion pushed forward with his hand driving Garrit flat onto the cold
stone surface and forced the first part of his hand into his rectum. He
felt the assailant's thumbnail gouging at the tender skin of his perineum.

   "OH GODS, PLEASE STOP," Garrit wailed in agony and followed it with
another scream.

    Varrus released his grip on the choking fabric of the tunic and punched
him in the kidney. Garrit screamed in pain again. He could hear Tribune
Marius snickering in delight above him.

    "Beg me to fuck you slave!" the Centurion ordered the violated man.

    Garrit groaned around the agony in his asshole and back and didn't
respond. Varrus pulled his thumb back and wormed it into the shuddering
man's anal hole beside his other fingers. He then drove his arm forward and
breached the wracked opening with his knuckles eliciting another scream
from Garrit.

    "Beg for my hard phallus up your chute or I'll shove my arm up in your
worthless hole to the elbow and then yank your innards out," the Centurion
told him maliciously.

    "Please fuck me..." Garrit whimpered as he started to cry from the
agonizing torture that Varrus was subjecting his dry tormented rectal
muscle to. He heard Marius laughing over him.

    "Please fuck me what?" Varrus demanded pressing his fist harder against
Garrit's sphincter.

    "Please fuck me master," Garrit gasped out as his vision started to dim
from the pain.

    "Give me a week," the Centurion said to the Tribune as he callously
jerked his hand out of Garrit's flaming shit hole.

    "Take him away then," Marius ordered, "And Varrus?"

    "Yes Tribune?" the Centurion answered.

    "Next time I see him I want to see him leaking sperm from his fucking
hole," the Tribune demanded, "Lots of it."

    "As you command Tribune," Varrus answered as he grabbed Garrit by his
long flowing golden hair and dragged him from the hall.

TO BE CONTINUED

ONCE UPON A TIME,
    There was this person who had a few very good, most assuredly magical,
skills with a computer and the internet. Now this person also liked to have
some personal fun with an erotic story every now and then. But alas, the
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difficult to access because of the evil dark powers of the wicked Council
of Censorbitches. The person knew that there were many erotic writers out
in the mystical realm of the World Wide Web, but they had problems posting
their feel good stories because the Censorbitches would descend on their
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It was free from the loathsome pernicious deeds of the Censorbitches and at
last writers of alluring erotica could set their creations in a place of
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magical programing were required to keep the enchanted place Nifty secure
and accessible. Many more hours were spent in the exchange of the small
marvelous packages of electric information called bits that made up the
enchanted place. The person withered and languished spending all their mana
maintaining the enchanted place Nifty until one day a minor wizard made a
donation and enhanced the magic of the person. Stories flashed into
existance that had never been seen before! And so I send forth this missive
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