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RomanMatron

Title: Roman Matron

Keywords: mF, teen, inc, mom, son

Author: Caesar

"A queen of old Egypt, named Cleo

Conducted her loving 'con brio.'

She felt quite at home in

The arms of one Roman

But preferred to be part of a trio."

-author unknown

Description:

Caesar's favourite short story, the wife of a powerful Roman senator

seduces her son to kill him. Probably the only non-erotic story he

has.

Disclaimer:

#include "std_disclaimer.h"

All characters are fictional and a figment <g> of my over-active

imagination. Constructive e-mail is welcome.

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Roman Matron

by Caesar, copyright (c) 1990-2002

$Revision: 1.6 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:27 $

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 determination 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 blood-lust 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 sensitive 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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