Page 83 of Enslaved
When Marcus arrived at the Procurator’s residence, he learned that Julius Classicianus had arranged to take a half-dozen senators to the games that afternoon. Also invited was a military administrator who could provide Marcus with official permission to marry.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring my brother, Petrius, with me, Julius. The young devil disappeared into the bowels of Rome the moment we arrived. Once he’s indulged all the vices of youth, I’m sure he’ll show up.”
“He already showed up, my friend. I took him to court last night and introduced him to the emperor. He and Nero took to each other immediately. I expect it was your brother’s beauty that attracted Nero. But I believe Petrius has a certain amount of cunning he’ll use to our benefit. We are fortunate to have him in our arena.”
Marcus devoutly hoped so. Petrius would use his cunning to benefit himself, but if he was willing to exploit Nero’s vices, it could save them all time and trouble.
When they arrived at the Claudian Amphitheatre, Marcus was amazed to see Petrius sitting with the emperor and his friends. They were laughing together with such intimate ease, one would have thought Petrius a longtime member of the inner circle.
Julius took Marcus forward to meet the emperor and he hailed him with a military salute, rather than exchanging the kiss of greeting that was gaining favor throughout the city.
“Another Magnus brother, though not of the same mold. Welcome back to Rome. Tomorrow there is to bevenatione,in my name at the Circus Flavian. You and Julius must honor me with your presence. I guarantee you have never seen anything like it. As well as lions and leopards, there are to be bears. They have been busy for a week designing mountains and caves and they have even put in a small forest.”
“That should be quite a spectacle, Emperor,” Julius said with the necessary enthusiasm.
Petrius hailed his brother with an insolent wave of his hand. The look he gave Marcus clearly implied that he could influence Nero to do his bidding. And indeed, Petrius was thoroughly enjoying his new position of prestige.
The gladiator bouts were many and varied, with several at a time taking place to entertain the thousands who were gathered in the amphitheatre. The masses loved the games, which were free to all. They cheered the valiant, booed unsportsmanlike behavior, and made wagers as to the outcome. The most interesting combats were between theretiarus,who fought with nets and tridents, and thesecutors,who fought with the traditional helmet, sword, and shield.
Marcus surreptitiously watched his brother and the plump Nero continuously whisper to each other. He wondered what they spoke of so earnestly, but if he had been able to hear them, he would have been sickened.
“Are you enjoying the games?” Nero asked, twirling the rings on his pudgy fingers.
“I like more bloodletting,” Petrius replied with a gleam. “When a defeated gladiator begs for mercy, the crowd always obliges.”
Nero smirked. “I, too, like to see men die, but I have to be satisfied with the wounding; I cannot go against the masses.”
“You do not realize your full power, Emperor. I wager that if you turn thumbs down on the next man defeated, it won’t be long before you sway the thousands gathered here.”
The two gladiators before the emperor’s eagle-decorated box fought on and on. They were well matched, but finally the larger man disarmed his opponent and placed a victorious foot on his neck. The crowd went wild, cheering and collecting their wagers. When the fallen man lifted his arm for mercy, Nero suddenly turned thumbs down on him. The collective voice of the crowd protested, and Nero’s hand wavered.
“Courage!” Petrius urged and stretched out his own hand with the thumb turned down.
The victorious gladiator plunged his short sword into the fallen man’s heart. The crowd gasped. When the victor withdrew his weapon and held it on high so that the blood dripped down his arm, the crowd began to cheer.
Nero grinned at Petrius with delight. When the next gladiator fell, the masses turned thumbs down on him and cheered with bloodlust when the victor slashed the defeated man’s throat wide open, so that his lifeblood spurted into the sand.
“It feels good to kill,” Nero whispered, sexually aroused.
“It feels even better when your hand wields the sword.”
“You are a centurion. It is easy for you; difficult for me,” Nero said, placing his pudgy hand on Petrius’ solid thigh.
“Difficult, but not impossible, Emperor.” Petrius’ eyes lingered on Nero’s rouged mouth. “Why don’t we retire to a more private place where I can suggest many things that will appeal to your appetite.”
Nero’s hand squeezed his new favorite’s knee. “Just one more bout?” he whispered avidly.
Marcus Magnus felt a great sadness come over him. He wanted to get his young brother away from the deviate Nero. But it was too late. Petrius was the one doing the corrupting, and if he could teach depravity to one as evil as Nero, he was beyond redemption. With Petrius it wasn’t about sex, it was about power. Marcus knew he was in his glory manipulating the Emperor of Rome. To see them walk off together after the bouts put a great sadness in his heart.
In Nero’s opulent chamber the air was heavy with perfume sprayed from jets in the high ceiling. At twenty-five, Nero was no longer aroused by women. He had turned to men, but the limp-wristed slaves available by the score did not have much appeal. They abased themselves too easily and could not bear much pain or cruelty, either to themselves or to others.
The young emperor preferred more muscular partners, who were not squeamish when he wished to flagellate them and were also strong enough to hold a victim powerless while he inflicted more inventive tortures. They were ugly devils, both unemotional and insensitive, with bovine intelligence, but their large physical attributes brought him release.
Petrius Magnus was different. Nero hadn’t been this excited about a lover in years. The young man had the beauty of a woman and the hard body of a centurion. He also understood the narcotic of bloodlust. He was that rare being: a beautiful brute.
Nero sprawled upon his purple silk couch while Petrius undressed him. They indulged in arousing talk to keep the emperor erect. “A few weeks ago I decided to experiment with one of those deranged Christians. I had his prick tied with a leather thong, then I made him drink and keep on drinking. I was curious to see what would happen when he became overfilled, but couldn’t relieve himself by pissing.”
“Was it arousing?” asked Petrius, slowly removing his own tunic.
