by Ari Shan
Six years after I, Encolpius, donned my first toga, at the 20th year of my life, my father sent me to Syracuse where I was to be trained in the ways of the Senate by a friend of his. I had begged him to send me elsewhere to Herculaneum, oh the great city of a boy’s wildest dreams! Rumors had it amongst us young men of my training that there were the finest, most ennobling of men to fulfill that which we desired between our thighs. Whether to take the upper or lower position was no matter for we were to engage in great pleasure of the many there and its openness to submission. After a great much of begging to my father, he reluctantly sent me to do my training at Herculaneum to a senator there. He had made sure that this senator was of an old, unusable age in which his manhood could not function but had failed to take into account that the senator had sons of his own.
I was happy to stay in Herculaneum, not only because my lodgings were elegant, but also because one of my host's sons, Pedetus, was truly beautiful. A young man only two years minor to my lifespan and of the 4th year of his toga, he yielded hair golden as the Divine Apollo’s sunrays and short as a man’s hair should be. Though younger than I, his height almost rivaled mine and his physique was of a smooth, Herculean balance. Not of too many muscles nor of a lack of it but rather the perfect balance throughout the body. Oh what glorious feet he had, showing them off unabashedly and brazenly at the dinner table. Rather than hide his feet, he aroused lust towards his succulent, meaty feet that I could tell made the serving boys flush with cheeks red as peaches. How much I wanted to see more of him up his toga only hindered by his loincloth.
So I hatched a plan to ensure that I would never be viewed with suspicion by the paterfamilias: whenever the conversation at dinner even hinted at the sexual attractions of beautiful boys, I would blush like a virgin and object in the severest tones that my ears were offended by such obscene talk. The mother came to regard me as a great philosopher! So I started taking the boy to the gym and organized his studies. Training under his boring father, I, in turn, tutored his son and warned him not to let any sexual predator into the house, for many were the decadent men of Rome that had followed a mix of Greek passions and the yearning for the other sex. I had even heard rumors of a man having subdued his wife as he was being subdued the same time from behind by another man in Pompeii!
Once we were lying around the dining room on a holiday when the long hours of play had made us too lazy to retire, my plan commenced. Around midnight I noticed that the boy was still awake and so, in the softest whisper, I said a prayer: “Venus, Voluptuous Mother of Rome, if I can sniff the feet of this boy without his noticing, tomorrow I shall give him a pair of doves.”
When he heard the price of pleasure, the boy started to snore. So I went over to the little faker and stole some sniffs. What an aroma his feet had, for how much I wished my tongue could run through his flesh moistened with the sweat of exercise. I sniffed between the toes and down the heels with puffs of air. Happy with this beginning I got up early the next morning and, as he expected, brought him a choice pair of doves, and so fulfilled my promise.
When the same opportunity arose the next night, I changed my prayer and said, “Lady Venus who drives mad even the King of the Gods, if I can caress this boy’s feet with my naughty hands and tongue without his feeling it, I will give him two ferocious fighting cocks for his patience.”
At this promise, the boy came over to me on his own and, I think, he was even afraid that I had nodded off! I reassured him on this point by awakening and at the moment’s notice, gorged myself on his entire feet. At last, I tasted the divine nectar that was his sweat and savored it. Massaging each foot, I wanted to make merry and tickle those things. Barely holding myself, I pulled out my hardening rod and rubbed it between the fine feet. So smooth and tender were they that I could not hold it any longer. At the summit of my pleasure, an explosive mess had spilled upon his feet. Fortunately, he had not awoken and so I licked up the mix between my seed and his sweat, being sure to suck his toes once more with a little wanking on my own part.
The next morning I gave him what I'd promised and he was elated. When my moment came the third night, I whispered … in his ear as he pretended to sleep: “Lady Venus, if I could enjoy in full the complete satisfaction of my desires while the boy sleeps, in return for this bliss, tomorrow I will give him a choice Macedonian dog, so long as he has felt nothing!”
Never has a young man slept more soundly! So, first, I entered my fingers into his toga and played about with his nipples. As the handsome faker appeared to sleep, his nipples hardened at my gentle tips. Feeling his muscles, I licked circles about his nipples before engaging in the true delight. I filled my hands with his milky breasts, then I inhaled kisses, and, finally, all my desires converged into one. His cock so hard, his ass so firm, my nose between his toes, I had almost hoped for him to yelp out in pleasure. In the morning he sat in his room waiting for my usual visit. Well, you know very well how much easier it is to buy doves and cocks than a thoroughbred dog. Besides, I was afraid that so extravagant a gift would make my kind attentions look suspicious. So after wandering around a few hours I returned home and gave the boy nothing but a kiss. He hugged me round the neck as he looked about and said, “Please, sir, where is my thoroughbred?” Because of my broken promise the door I had opened was slammed shut, so I resorted again to wheedling. A few days later a similar occasion put us in the same lucky situation. Since I could hear his father snoring I started asking him to be friends again, to let me make it up to him, and all the other things a swollen libido inspires one to say. But he was obviously angry with me and only said, “Go to sleep or I'll tell my father.”
There's no obstacle a lack of scruples can't overcome. While he kept threatening “to wake up father,” I wormed my way around him, gagged his mouth, and began tickling him. Tearing out his toga, I could no longer hold myself and my fingers wiggled at every portion of his body. He laughed a muffled scream as I moved to his feet. So muscular, yet so ticklish was this man and so much adoration. I took my pleasure by force in spite of his half-hearted resistance. He was not entirely displeased by my ambush, and after he'd complained for some time that he'd been deceived, and then was laughed at and reviled by his fellow students (to whom he had boasted of my wealth!), he said, “But look, I'm not going to be like you, if you want to, do it again.”
So with my offense laid aside, I was back in favor with the boy and having enjoyed his favors, I fell asleep. But the boy was ripe for pleasure and at the age that is eager to be submissive, so he was not content with a mere repetition. He woke me up saying, “Well, don't you want something?” And clearly, this task was not exactly burdensome. Such being so, somehow I panted, sweated and banged away until he had got what he wanted, then I fell asleep again, exhausted with pleasure as he finished with his mouth around my feet, sucking at my toes. Less than an hour had passed when he started jostling me with his hand and said, “Why don't we do it?”
Then I was furious at being woken so many times, so I retorted: “By Hypnos, go to sleep or I shall tell thy father!”
