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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file dosen't contain sexually
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Archive name: Matron.txt
Authors name: Caesar (caesar69@my-dejanews.com)
Story Title : Roman Matron
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1990-96, ed.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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Caesar's favorite short story, the wife of a powerful Roman
senator seduces her son to kill him. Probably the only non-
erotic story he has.
Flavius Maximitus, the only free-born son to Flavus Maximitus
and his wife Lucina, stood naked against the cold granite wall.
His body shone with sweat and oil that reflected the moonlight
shining through the open-roofed peristyle, a pleasant little
garden in the middle of his family's house. In his hand gleamed
a drusus, a fine crafted short sword. It quivered in the dull
light, as did the toned small body. The boy was not cold, even
in the chilly evening, but scared, and nervous.
Next to him, a dark doorway with a large finely-crafted wooden
door - his parents' cubicula, their bedroom. He stood leaning
against the smooth wall for several long minutes, waiting. His
bronze-coloured body rippled whenever he shook with fear, his
short black hair flattened against his head with grease. His
mind wandered over what was to be done this evening, and the
promised reward at the end. He worried about the slaves and
servants in the house, and even though they had been taken care
of, nothing must be left to chance.
The silent movement of the large door startled him, and gave his
heart a rush. It was time!
The door opened only a few inches then stopped, just as planned.
An adrenaline rush flowed through his body, giving him deter-
mination and strength to finish his task. He moved upon silent
bare feet, grabbing the door in his free hand.
As he slowly opened the door, the inner room was bathed in yellow
light from a small candle next to the large lavish bed. Flavius
paused only for a second as he looked upon his father's sleeping
body. The thin embroidered blanket could not hide the obesity of
his father - it sickened him. Without closing the door, he walked
slowly and carefully towards the slumbering form, not taking his
eyes off the face of his father. In seconds he stood over the
large bloated form, staring into the face that gave him life. He
ignored a movement over his shoulder.
The ex-senator lay in troubled sleep, sometimes kicking out with
his feet, other times his hands. He was trying to stop the demons
of his sleep taking away everything his family had worked the
last two hundred years for. But suddenly in his dream, he was
attacked from behind, from the people whom he expected to be
loyal...
Flavius jumped as he saw his father's eyes open suddenly, "What...
what are you doing, boy..." The deep voice boomed out threateningly
the voice of a man who is used to being obeyed.
The fat man started to rise. Suddenly, Flavius saw all the years
of his life; the beatings, the shouting, being treated like a dog
by his own father. So he moved faster than he ever moved before,
the adrenaline flowing through his veins giving him new found
strength.
The drusus came around in an arc; it landed straight down upon
his father's lower face. The blade struck the fat man's jaw,
breaking the jawbone and causing the loss of several teeth while
cleaving through the meaty chin. Dazed by the shock, Flavus fell
back onto the bed, unable to do anything except raise an arm in
defiance.
Very little sound was heard in the dimly-lit cubicula. But a
gurgle escaped from the ruptured mouth of Flavus. The next swing
followed soon after the first and came down upon the out-
stretched hand, cleaving off three fingers and most of the palm.
The bloody and mangled stump pumped blood into the very eyes of
the unarmed man, his eyes wide with horror.
An uncontrollable bloodlust took over the boy as he drew his
blade up again. For a brief second he saw into his father's pain-
filled eyes, saw the blood splattered upon the fat cheeks, and
the pool of redness over the man's chest. The helplessness of the
older man enraged Flavius; this man was not worthy enough to call
himself his father. The boy reached out with his free hand to
grab and push away the outstretched, maimed hand. With the other,
he swung down with the sharp blade, biting into the exposed neck.
The shiny blade bit deep into the fat, exposing most of the muscle
and veins of the butchered neck. The severed carotid artery
drenched both males in a fountain of blood.
The fat of the old man had kept him alive this long, but the boy
swung again and again, cleaving the head from the now-still body,
always aiming for the face and neck. Only when the boy ran out of
strength did he stop swinging.
Flavius dropped the drusus upon the bed and fell to his knees.
Blood was everywhere, upon the bed, on the boy's body, and even
upon the walls and floor. He stared at the fat butchered body
laying on the bed, trying to picture that hunk of meat as his
father, but he couldn't.
A fine small hand lay gently upon his slippery shoulder.
Lucina squeezed her son's upper arm trying to calm him, since
he was breathing fast and deeply while his body was quivering
rapidly. She finally drew him off the floor and over to a couch,
where he lay upon his back.
The boy stared at his mother, not recognizing her at first, as
she wiped his face clean with a sponge. As recognition returned,
he stared at her untimely beauty, seeing the blood- soiled white
toga haphazardly thrown over her shoulder, allowing a breast to
be exposed. Her long black hair cascaded over her face and down
her back. The whiteness of her skin tantalized him, called out
to him. He brought a blood-soaked hand up to her exposed breast,
cupping the round flesh in his young strong hand. Flavius loved
her more than ever before!
At the first touch of his hand she stopped cleaning him and
smiled into his eyes. "You are the new Lord of this family, my
son. What would be your first act?" She held her breath and
waited for him.
As an answer, he lifted himself onto his elbow, pressing his
lips against her round soft blood-smeared nipple, sucking.
Like the lions of the Arena, after a kill he felt a driving
passion deep inside his loins. Also this was the prize that
his mother had promised, a prize that he would do anything
for, even kill his own father.
Lucina's hand gently pressed her son's head to her bosom,
revelling in the feel of his young warm lips upon her sen-
sitive breast. Her free hand pushed the toga off her shoulder,
exposing herself from the waist up.
"Come then, my Lord, we have until dawn to love each other!"
In the large elaborate cubicula, upon the couch in the corner,
two naked bodies gleamed and moved in the faint light, one a
youth of thirteen, the other a woman of thirty. Soft sounds
of passion echoed throughout the marble room, voices begged,
skin slapped. The sweet smell of blood and sweat was in the
air, yet neither noticed or cared. Nor did either notice the
dried blood or thick oil caked to the youth's body. Both were
lost in the other.
Only when the youth was spent, his chest heaving for breath,
did he fully realize what had transpired. His mother lay over
him, her knees straddling his hips, her sex still engulfing
his. He looked in horror at the still bed, then into his
mother's open eyes. Full comprehension came upon him. Lucina
narrowed her eyes slightly and she sat up over his body.
Her hand quickly descended towards him. Flavius only saw a
gleam of metal before the bone handled stiletto hit. The
blade bit deep into the forehead, shattering the young man's
skull, forcing the thin metal to enter into his brain.
Flavius's death was instantaneous.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 5