Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Theodora believed. Her faith ran deeply. It was not worn as some gesture of heretical mockery. That cross, like her body, were symbols of her devotion to God. She made love, shared herself with others as an act of worship. Her every moan, a prayer; her every cry, an exultation to her creator. The font between her legs, the sweetest sort of holy water.
It was no sin to revel in what God had given her.
[[MORE]]"Ah, my soldier," she panted, collapsing onto her hands. "You are a worthy distraction."
The Empress finished her bath not long after; taking a few minutes to scrub vigorously at her skin, her expression curled into one of satisfied contentment. We traveled with her back to her inner chambers, standing outside while an army of maids moved in to help her get dressed.
I stood numbly at Helena's side, my guts twisting around as if I'd taken a knife. I hated myself; both for what I'd done and what I hadn't let myself do. She was my Empress, yet I couldn't get the sight of her naked body out of head. Or, how I'd watched her impale herself again and again on that golden phallus; rivulets of her own moisture trickling down the shaft of it.
"You surprised me again, you know," Helena said into the silence.
Her voice drew me back into the real world, letting me blink my thoughts clear. I tilting my head to find her eyes considering me.
"In the baths," she clarified. "Your restraint."
Right. She'd been there. She'd seen me, my nakedness, My cheeks suddenly, burned scarlet and I couldn't meet her gaze.
She laughed, a deep sound rich with textures, which somehow made me feel even more uncomfortable.
"Don't worry," she said. "I've seen many others, and been a lot closer to a fair bit of them. Although, yours was particularly nice,”
She trailed off, her voice still on the edge of laughter.
"Restraint?" I managed to croak out, looking for a way out of this. "What restraint?"
"You know what I mean," Helena said. "The Empress practically begged you for more. Most men, and many women I've met wouldn't have hesitated to jump in. But you didn't, and I can't really figure out why."
I let out a long breath, breathing back in through my nose. I caught the whiff of oiled-steel, and was talking before I really knew it.
"Honestly? I don't even know. She's the Empress for God's sake, not some camp follower. And besides, she's married. I know the world is way different here but, I don't know. It just felt wrong, I guess."
"I told you that neither she nor the Emperor care about that," Helena said.
"I know. But a good woman isn't supposed to be like that."
"And just how is a good woman supposed to be?"
It was a sign about how lost I was in my own confusion that I missed the flint in her voice and the sudden stiffness of her frame. I just kept talking, my eyes down onto my out-stretched hands.
"I don't know that anymore either. My mother always said that good, happy women were,” I let out another long breath and shook my head. "Not like this. Not so, I don't know. But it doesn't matter."
I back towards her with a shaky grin. "I guess all I do know is I shouldn't be the one deciding any of this anyway."
Silence fell between us for a time. I listened to the commotion of the Empress' preparations, keeping an eye on the empty hallway. It was Helena that eventually spoke again.
"And what about me? Am I a good, proper woman?"
"No," I said, meeting the challenge in her gaze. I let my lip quirk into a wry smile. "But Helena, you might just be the sanest person here."
Her lips parted in a wide smile, and the deep green of her eyes brightened just a little. She laughed, and I felt an all-together different sort of warmth rise through me.
Training with Helena.
My little lion.
Your letter has been an answer from God. I feared for you when I heard about the army's defeat at the hands of those barbaric Persians. But God is good, and I knew that He would not let you fall to those heathens. I do not know when, or where this letter will find you, but just know that I love you and that your dedication to your career fills me with pride.
I know too, that your father would say the same. What man wouldn't? To see their son follow so closely in his own footsteps.
I let out a breath, leaning back, away from my little desk. This was the last letter I'd received from my mother; the message waiting for me when I'd arrived in Constantinople back at the end of May. It was nearly September now.
I'd put this off enough, I told myself. I had blank parchment, quill and inkpot. I had to write to her. I had to tell her that I was still alright; that I was in the capital. That I was working in the Imperial Palace.
That I'd left the Legion.
My head fell into my hands. I closed my eyes, and tried to will them open an instant later. I needed to do this. I needed to tell her. I was a soldier for God's sake, I could write a letter to my own fucking mother.
A minute passed, and then two. And then, luckily, there was a knock at my door before I could really start hating myself.
I just about leapt from my desk, opening the door to find Helena standing there.
"Morning!" She said with a wide smile. "You ready?"
"Helena," I said. "Ready? What, uh. I, for, ?"
I trailed off unable to figure out what I'd actually wanted to say. Helena stood in my doorway without her armor, without much of anything really.
Her neck and shoulders were bare; her warm bronze skin flowing down to the swell of her chest. The shape of it was hidden, however, lashed tight by a winding strip of cloth. Her stomach was naked, the muscles flexing with every breath she took.
My eyes traveled down the tightness of her navel, to the loincloth wrapped snuggly around the curve of her hips. It was short, doing nothing more than swaddle the place where her legs flowed into each other. I followed the endless, sculpted smoothness of her legs down, tracing every swell and divot. I lingered for a time of the strip of cloth looped around one thigh, wondering at its arcane purpose before I arrived at her sandaled feet.
"Like what you see?" I could hear the smirk in her voice, and I looked up to find her eyes alight beneath the free-falling curls of her copper hair.
"Yes" I instantly replied, the words springing out of me without bothering to stop by my brain.
She snorted, a faint flush of color creeping up her naked skin. "Come on, get out of that. We're going for a run."
"A run, ?" My eyes flicked back down to the shape of her thighs. My mind finally seemed to judder back into motion, and heat seared up my body as I realized what I was doing.
"A run!" I said, tearing my eyes away from her. "Yes. Sorry. Yes. I'll be ready."
I still hadn't moved, my eyes flailing about wildly for a place to rest. Helena laughed, and I took that as permission to settle back on her grinning face.
"Sorry," I said. "You, uh, took me by surprise."
"I can see that," she said. "Now, take that off. We need to go before it gets too hot."
"Ah, right," I said. "Give me a moment."
"Sure," she said. "I'll meet you down in the Hippodrome, then."
I nodded. She turned, moving away and giving me a view of her back. My eyes slid down the smooth arch of her spine until they reached the curved, firmness of her hips. Her loin-cloth was tight, looping around her waist and between her legs. It left much of her rounded behind visible, each hump jiggling faintly as she walked.
I was mesmerized by the sway of her hips; of the rhythmic bouncing of her cheeks. Of the muscles shifting beneath the flesh of her naked thighs. But most of all, by the way her ass completely devoured the strip of cloth down its center.
I heard her make a small sound, and looked up to find her peeking back at me from over one shoulder. I flushed, and saw her lips curl into another smile. She turned her attention forward once more, reaching down to that loop around her thigh and using it to tie back her hair.
I swear, in the final few steps before she rounded the corner, the swing of her hips took on an extra snap.
I stared after her for a while after she'd disappeared. I'd grown used to the sight of her in armor; the shape of her body masked by the protective steel. Women didn't wear armor; and so, despite the beauty of her features, I'd somehow convinced myself that Helena wasn't one.
I wouldn't forget that again. Not now that I had the sight of the swaying, curving femininity of her waist locked tightly in my mind. I knew that I would never forget that first glimpse of her. I'd carry it with me, along with the way her eyes had danced when she'd smiled.
Grand Hippodrome
Constantinople's Grand Hippodrome was one the great wonders of the world. It was huge, the U-shaped track built directly into the western wall of the Imperial Palace. From the Emperor's box, Justinian, and the hundred thousand others that could squeeze themselves into the surrounding grandstands, could watch the thunder of the chariot races that were the center of life within the capital.
The seats were empty now. Though I remembered well, when I'd jogged through at the end of my own race, the way the sands had shaken with each one of the crowd's roars and cheers.
Helena and I started to run after a few minutes of stretching. We ran the circuit of the charioteers, doing lap after lap around the low, obelisk framed wall that divided the track in two. She was a good runner, better than good. Her breathing was steady, her long legs devouring mile after mile of the sandy track.
We ran in silence mostly; each of us focusing on the breath in our lungs, the sun on our naked backs and the sand beneath out feet. I quickly fell back into my old rhythm, my head emptying itself of everything but the run. Slowly, as one hour slipped past, and then two, I felt that calm settle deeper into me. My thoughts, my confusions and my doubts from the past couple of weeks; all of it started to clear. This was something I knew. Something that I was good at. I focused on that, anchoring myself to the joy of doing something I loved; in the company of someone who seemed to love it too.
By the time we stopped, I actually felt like myself again.
It was near midday when we stopped, guzzling water from a waiting barrel. In the hours since we'd arrived, a unit of Excubitors had started drilling nearby. They attacked wooden posts with heavy training swords; another group falling in and out of formation beneath the heavy batons of their officers.
I watched them while we rested, noting a much heavier focus on marching and formation drills, rather than actual combat. It wasn't what I was used to, but it would serve.
"Let's go train with them," I said, speaking loudly over the shouts of the officers. "I haven't practiced in weeks."
Helena, her skin flushed a healthy pink from the long run, didn't meet my gaze. "Ah, you go. I'll just run some more; I think."
I frowned. "Come on, we need the practice. Let's get those guys at the posts to do some actual sparring."
She shook her head. "I can't. Just go, Leo. I'll do a few more laps before I go back in."
"Helena," I said. "We're the Empress' Guard. We can train with them whether they like it or not."
Her face twisted. "Oh, they very much don't like to train with a woman."
My frown deepened. "That doesn't matter. You guard the Empress. They have to train you."
"You'd think so, right?" She laughed, a bitter sound. "Oh, they're all happy to stare at me when I run, but as soon as I approach them with a training sword in my hand, everyone suddenly finds somewhere else they need to be. I just do what I can with the wooden posts."
I was getting angry. "That’s nothing."
"It’s the best I can do."
"It’s not enough," I answered.
Her eyes flashed, but I turned away. I started towards the closest rack of training swords. "I'll train you myself, then."
She caught me before I'd taken my third step. Her hand closed around my arm, whirling me around to face the anger in her wild, cypress green eyes.
"Fuck you," she hissed. "I don't need your pity."
"Pity?" I wrenched my arm from her grip. "This isn't about fucking pity. You're Empress Theodora's bodyguard. Our duty is to keep her safe. How the fuck are you going to do that if you can't fight?"
"I'm not a coward," she said. "I won't run."
I snorted. "So, what? Any idiot can take a knife to the gut. But what happens to our Empress after that?"
She didn't back away from me, but neither did she speak. So, I did.
"You're my shield mate, Helena. We stand beside each other. While we fight, your shield stays locked onto mine." I slapped my hand loudly against my forearm, my voice rising.
"We fight like Romans. We make a wall out of our shields and bodies. We let our enemies break themselves upon it, and we grind through them."
I was angry. I was angry at her for not trying. I was angry at the self-important guards who'd refused to teach her. And I was angry at myself, that I hadn't noticed any of this sooner.
"We sell our lives as dearly as possible." I was roaring now, my voice hoarse. "That’s our fucking duty. You, and all these shit-brained Excubitors have forgotten. But I haven't. And I'm not going to die because my shield mate doesn't know what the fuck she's doing."
I grabbed her arm and spun her around, kicking her towards the rack of wooden swords and shields. "So, go get us some gear. We're starting now."
Helena hesitated a moment, her back stiff and trembling. My fists were clenched, ready to meet her rage with my own. Though, the still rational part of me knew that it would be the end of us. I wouldn't work with someone who let their pride get in the way of their duty.
She didn't, moving towards the nearest rack within another heartbeat.
"Don't forget the shields!" I shouted after her.
Then, I let out a long breath, trying to unclench my muscles. She'd done right. Again. She didn't deserve this. I noticed some of the Excubitors throwing looks my way. I'd evidently spoken louder than I ought to, because most glared at me furiously.
I glared right back.
One of them started to come towards me, a sneer painted onto his face. He was pretty; bare-chested as the rest of us, his muscles gleaming with oil. He swung his wooden sword in lazy arcs, his shield nearly dragging through the sand.
"I don't recognize you," he said in a refined accent. "Are you here to train that woman?"
I felt my hackles rise. I wasn't going to let some tarted up parade ground soldier speak to me like I was some fucking dog. Even if he was probably some senator's son.
"We're the Empress' guard, boy," I snapped. "Piss off."
The idiot's face darkened. "Watch your mouth," he said. "This place is for soldiers; not women and servants."
"Fuck off. I won't tell you again."
But I knew he wouldn't. He'd gone this far, in full view of his entire unit. He couldn't let me win. And so, when his sneer shifted into a snarl and he swung his wooden blade across at me, I was ready.
I caught the wooden sword in one fist, ignoring the pain that flared there. The idiot's eyes widened. He tugged on it, trying to pull it out of my grip, but I swung my other fist into his nose before he could succeed.
I smeared his nose across his face. He collapsed to the sand, screaming. The fool hadn't even raised his shield.
I kicked him in the stomach, wrenched the sword from his grip and ripped the shield from his other arm. I quickly looped my own limb through the too loose straps of the shield, cinching them tight with my teeth in time to see one of his friends charging at me.
I rushed to meet him, tucking my shoulder into my shield and crushing it into him. I hit him like a battering ram. He went down, and I ground my heel into his stomach before facing the rest of them.
"Come on!" I roared. I slammed the flat of my sword against the face of my shield. "Anyone else!?"
Then, I slammed my sword onto it again, and again. The sound was deafening, though it was nothing compared to what it could be. To the thunder of tens of thousands on the battlefield.
"Show me!" I screamed. "Show me who you are!"
A few of the other Excubitors started towards me. I waited for them to come, slamming my sword into my shield and bellowing my anger into theirs.
But these weren't Stratiotai. It had been generations since the Excubitors had gone to war. They knew nothing of blood, of death.
But I did, and when they faltered, I did not. I kept beating my sword against my shield. And for the first time in God knew how long, the walls of the Hippodrome echoed with the rhythmic drum of the Legion at war.
The very heartbeat of Rome.
Helena joined me at some point. I let the sound die out when I was sure that no one else would come. I spat on the ground, my anger not at all burned away.
"Leave that extra sword and shield here," I told Helena, turning and striding to a clear space. "I've already got my own."
The sun was low in the sky when I finally called an end to our training. We shuffled through the halls of the Imperial Palace. I was exhausted, my muscles stretched and quivering. My head hurt; I was sun-scorched and hungry from the midday meal that we'd skipped.
Yet, I felt good. Great even.
"Leo," Helena called.
She was a few steps behind me, stopped at a junction with a corridor I didn't recognize. Guilt flashed through me. She looked worse than I felt; her muscles taut and shaking beneath dirt and sweat crusted flesh. Bruises were already blooming all over, some scabbing over with dried blood.
"Come this way," she said, turning down the new hallway. "I want to show you something."
"What is it?"
"You'll see," she said, disappearing from view.
I hesitated a moment before forcing my aching body after her. I'd worked her too hard. I hadn't been fair; using her to work through anger that had been directed more at myself than anywhere else.
Going after her now was the least that I could do.
I followed Helena through the twisting palace corridors, surprised by how fast she was moving now. She pulled open a seemingly random door a few minutes later, gesturing me over before she slipped through. Inside, was a room bathed in light.
The golden rays of the setting sun flooded this unused bedroom; washing over the bed and tapestry covered walls from a wide open, columned balcony. Helena was already stepping onto it, tilting her head up to catch the day's final warmth.
I stepped out with her, coming to where she stood by a stone railing. I noted the way her copper hair, sweat darkened and still kept from her face by that loop of cloth, seemed to burn brighter than the fading light.
"This is my favorite spot in the palace," she said, leaning her elbows onto the railing. "Just look at this view."
I tore my gaze from her. She was right; the view was spectacular. We faced south-west, looking out over the glittering expanse of the Sea of Marmara. I could see the dark silhouettes of ships; coasting through the placid waters. Constantinople was the center of the world, the crossroads between the east and west. I wondered how far some of these ships might have come to drift here beneath our eyes.
"I come here whenever I can," Helena said. "I like to watch the fishing ships coming in."
I breathed in the warm, salty air, listening to the cries of the gulls, sailors and merchants. It was comforting; reminding me of another time and another place. Here, with the sights and sound of the city at large lost on the palace's other side, I could almost start to believe that I was looking at another stretch of sea.
"It’s like home," I murmured.
"I knew that you'd like it," and I could hear the smile in her voice. "My father was a fisherman, before we left Lindos. I used to wait for him like this for hours every night."
I smiled too, remembering my own nights on Rhodes. "I always liked the markets better. All the people talking and laughing. I went every night I could."
She snorted. "What kind of kid wants to go to the market instead of sailing?"
"The kind that needed to hear something other than his mother's constant tales of his father's days as a soldier."
Helena shifted beside me, her eyes still out over the sea. "I guess that you were always meant for this life, then."
I didn't answer, my stomach clenching.
"I'd always wanted to be a fisherman," Helena continued. "I used to beg my dad to take me out with him on his boat. But he never did."
I looked over at her. There was so much strength in her, this woman, who's skin seemed poured from liquid gold in the sun's dying light. She met my eyes, her smile sad. I didn't speak, for what was there to say? No matter how right it would feel, women weren't fishers.
"Did you mean what you said?" She asked me.
"When?"
"In the Hippodrome, before you beat those two Excubitors. Do you really see me as your partner?"
"No," I told her.
Her face twisted, eyes falling away. "Then, I'm still just some,”
"Weren't you listening?" I interrupted. "You're my shield mate, Helena. Partners might stand one behind the other, but shield mates stand side by side."
Her eyes shone when they lifted back up to mine. She nodded, her expression an unreadable swirl of emotions. "Then," she said. "I look forward to training more with you. Together."
"Don't," I said. "I'm going to talk the Empress. We need more training days. And if you think that you hurt now,”
I trailed off, smiling at her laughter.
"I guess I'd better go get some rest then," she said, turning away from the balcony. "Coming?"
"Of course."
We walked back through the palace in silence, enjoying the comfort being at each other's side. I felt strangely buoyant. My step was light, lighter than it had been in a long time.
Before long, we were back within the Empress' wing. The two Excubitors on guard at the entrance, ones that I didn't recognize, glared at me, but did not say a word. Evidently, they'd heard about what had happened earlier.
I waved Helena off when we reached her quarters, taking a single step towards mine before her voice called me back.
She reached both hands up to slide the sweat-soaked cloth from her hair; her gaze on my face. The motion stretched her body, the muscles of her naked shoulders and stomach shifting beneath her skin. She brought it down, looping it back around one bare thigh.
"We stink," she said.
I nodded; my throat suddenly dry. The sour, faintly musky scent of her filled the hallway. It was powerful, no doubt, but it was as unmistakably feminine as the curve of her hips. And was as uniquely hers as the light in her eyes.
"The Empress lets us use her bath. If you want."
I had to swallow before replying. "I'll go later. I,” I cleared my throat. "I have one more duty to take care of."
She arched one eyebrow but didn't press. "Well do it before tomorrow. I'm the one who has to stand next to you, remember?"
I laughed, turning away and heading back into my quarters. The blank piece of parchment and my mother's letter were right where I had left them. I lowered myself to my desk, and felt that my lips were still curled into a smile. I chuckled, shook my head, and began to write.
The Empress' Best Friend.
"Stand up straight," I hissed.
At my side, Helena snorted. "There's no one else here, Leo. Besides, I'm not taking orders from someone who smells like yesterday's catch."
"I bathed yesterday," I said.
Though, I had to resist the urge to surreptitiously sniff below my arms. I could feel Helena's grin on me, and could picture the way the light must be dancing in her eyes. She was just teasing me. Probably.
"In any case," I continued. "You never know who's watching. Straighten up."
Helena and I were within the Empress' salon, guarding the chamber while her maids helped her dress. We were to head to the Hippodrome as soon as she was ready. It was the day of the chariot races, and even from here, I could hear the muted roar of the thousands already gathered.
"Are you saying that I'm smelling myself?"
I glanced over to find Helena's back still slouched against the wall. She'd raised an eyebrow, an expression of mock indignation on her face. Her eyes danced, just how I'd pictured it. She'd ignored me everything I'd said, but that suddenly didn't bother me.
I grinned, "I guess so."
She reached up to swat at my head, the back of her breastplate scraping the stone. "Don't be an ass. You can't tell a lady that she stinks."
"Stink is definitely too weak a word for this."
She laughed, and I felt my grin stretch wider. You continued back and forth for a few more minutes. As time went by, however, my armpits started to prickle. What sort of stench lurked there? I didn't want to offend the Empress. We'd had several more days of training since that first one. I wasn't always good about washing that same day, but I usually didn't let it go for too long.
"Oh, Leo," she said. "You make this too easy."
"You should be watching for danger," I said, cursing myself when I added; "I don't stink."
Her eyes danced. Again. "Check for yourself, then."
"I'm not going to sniff at my armpit in the Empress' salon."
"Alright then," she said with a shrug. "I'm sure that the Empress wouldn't say anything if she notices."
God dammit. Of course, she would. I chewed my lip, glancing about the empty room. God dammit. After another heartbeat of hesitation, I lifted by arm as much as I could in my armor, and brought my nose to my arm pit.
Of course, that was precisely the moment that the Empress chose to enter.
"My Leontius," Empress Theodora said. "What are you doing?"
She glided into the room; her walnut tresses piled elegantly a top her head. She wore a lavender colored dress. The thin, silken smoothness of the fabric clinging to her body. The wispy, gossamer cloth did nothing to mask the shape of her; from the bee-sting bumps of her nipples, to the flex of her narrow hips and then down to where her normally bare feet were wrapped in sandals of pale leather.
"Majesty! I, Nothing! I wasn't,” I was stammering, my thoughts knocked askew. I clicked my mouth shut. My cheeks burned, and I snapped back into attention.
"I told him that he reeked, Highness," Helena said. I could hear her grin. "He didn't believe me."
"Is that so?" The Empress said.
I saw her eyes flick between us, something flashing across her features. It was too quick for me to see. I forgot all about it a moment later, when the slipped into the space between my body and shield.
I froze, feeling the cool, smoothness of her dress slide across my bare thigh. Her bare back was warm against my arm. She leaned against my chest, curling her body around mine.
She smelled amazing. I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged.
She brought a hand up, tugging the hem of my tunic that poked up above my armor at my neck. Theodora brought her face down, and sniffed.
"Hmm, when was the last time you bathed, my soldier?"
I was mortified, my skin afire. "Your Majesty! I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I,”
"Hush now," she said. I could hear Helena's muffled laughter. "I didn't say that it was unpleasant."
The Empress made a little sound in her throat, taking another breath. "Come here, Helena. You'd enjoy this, I think."
"Will I now?" Helena said, pushing herself off of the wall.
The armored woman's voice was suddenly a notch deeper, strangely languid. She stepped into me, folding herself onto my other side with remarkable smoothness. She ducked her bare head beside the Empress. She was tucked right in the crook of my neck, my jaw resting atop her coppery hair.
The scent of her filled my nose; iron, sweat, and an almost salty sort of sweetness that was only hers.
My body was spear straight, my heart starting to hammer as Helena breathed me into her.
"Hmm," she said. "You're right, Highness. That is rather nice."
"You're doing a hundred extra push-ups tomorrow," I somehow managed to say.
Both women laughed, their breaths raising the flesh on my neck. The Empress tilted her head up to press her lips against my cheek.
"I knew there was some life in you, my Leontius," she murmured before they both stepped away.
My own breath was starting to fray a little at the edges, the whole of me still hot beneath my skin. I looked from the Empress to Helena. The guardswoman's face was a little flushed as well. She smiled at me, and I saw special sort of depth within the green of her eyes.
In that moment, someone knocked on the door, startling the three of us.
I immediately leapt away from the two women; petrified that someone might see. 'Although, so what if they did?' A small part of me thought.
Helena pulled open the door.
It was the Emperor; bright-eyed, his beard streaked with gray. I'd seen him often in the past week, the Empress often spending her days beside him.
I hurriedly took another few steps to the side, praying that he wouldn't notice my burning face. I needn't have worried. When he swept into the room, Justinian had eyes only for his wife's delighted smile.
"My Theodora," he said, pulling her to him. "You are an angel gracing us from heaven."
She laughed, leaning her body away to caress his face and stare into his eyes. "You old flatterer," she said. "We've been apart too long."
The Emperor, Justinian, 1st of his name, smiled down at his Empress. "Indeed, we have, my dearest." Then, he leaned down and kissed her.
She threw her arms around his neck, returning his kiss as if they hadn't just seen each other that very morning.
I wondered what it would be like, to be so obviously in love. To be so happy with the person that you'd sworn to God you'd stay with.
One day, you'll marry a good woman from a good family. You'll love and be true to each other. She'll care for your house and bear your children and you'll be oh so happy, my little lion.
Would she really love me, this unnamed woman of my future. Would I truly be this happy?
Inexplicably, I found my eyes on Helena. She was smiling towards the Empress. Her expression was so warm. What would it be like, I wondered, to feel the heat of that smile? Her eyes found mine, a question swirling within.
I looked away.
We left for the Hippodrome not long after, Helena and I marching behind the couple that walked arm in arm. Helena and I didn't speak; listening to the Imperial pair worry about the crowd's mood. There had been some restlessness caused by the newly implemented war tax. This event was meant to help pacify and distract the capital's people.
The Imperial Box, when we finally arrived, was filled with people. It was a large, its many descending rows of seats protected by a wide awning. The heat was brutal, though the stretched-out cloth did wonders to shelter us.
Dozens of well-dressed men and women milled about the wide, flattened area just before the door. They helped themselves to tables of the Emperor's refreshments; shouting over the dull roar of the packed Hippodrome.
Guests moved to greet the Imperial couple. I saw senators, nobles and bishops; each man and woman better dressed than the last. I recognized many from the interminable council meetings that the Empress attended every day. And though I knew their faces, most of their names still escaped me.
I even noticed Alexius and Diocles. The two merchant lords of the Blue and Green factions were gathered on opposing ends of the Imperial Box. They glared at each other, surrounded by their own gangs of sycophants.
"Belisarius!" The Empress said, her voice pulling my attention back. "I'm so happy you're here."
I stiffened, recognizing the man embracing Theodora. Belisarius; the commander of the Byzantine armies and the highest ranked general within the Empire, looked to be of an age similar to the Empress. I'd served beneath the man in Anatolia, and needed no help recognizing the powerfully built man.
He shook the Emperor's hand next. His hair was black and he sported a thick beard trimmed into servility. His skin was dark, roasted from our campaign beneath the hot, Anatolian sun.
I kept my back spear-straight. He wouldn't recognize me, of course. I'd only ever been another nameless stratiotai beneath his command. Yet still I searched for any spark of recognition within his eyes as they swept over me. I'd served under him for a long time. And though I wasn't surprised, I couldn't help but feel a little swell of disappointment when his face remained blank at the sight of me.
He did nod a greeting to Helena, however, before the Emperor pulled him aside to speak.
"Ah, Theodora," another voice said.
A woman moved towards us. She was blonde, her eyes dark, a smile curving the edge of her full lips.
"Antonina!" The Empress said, her own smile wide.
The woman, Antonina, was taller than Theodora, though only just. She was much paler than the Empress; she had the creamy sort of pallor of one who rarely ventured out beneath the sun. Her body was full; her curves luscious. I could see the shape of them, teased by the sheer fabric of the yellow dress that was draped over her body.
Two, thin straps looped over the bare flesh of her shoulders, plunging downward into a neckline that strained with the effort of containing a pair of massive breasts. They shifted, trembling as she swayed towards us, threatening to burst free with every step.
The dress was belted tight to her waist. The fabric slitted along the length of both legs; exposing the milky flesh of her naked thighs and hips. There was just a single flap of fabric hanging between her legs; the only thing protecting what little of her remained hidden.
Antonina was stunningly beautiful. And there was a little quirk in the corner of her smile. It tempted; tantalized, like the sweetest sort of indulgence. It made my heart pound.
The two women embraced, chattering amicably while Helena and I shifted back a step. There were a few other guards scattered throughout the box. They were Excubitors all, mostly standing by the rear wall.
"Who's that?" I asked Helena, my voice low.
"Antonina," she hissed. "Belisarius' wife, and the Empress' best friend. Be careful with her."
The comment surprised me. But before I could whisper another question, both women had turned towards us.
"Ah, I'd forgotten that you'd gotten a new guard, Dora," Antonina said. Her voice was rich; tinged with the same fullness of her curves. She'd folded her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up even higher.
I struggled to look away, though I'd noticed that she had a golden hanging from her neck. It appeared the twin of the one Theodora wore, the links swallowed by the rounded fullness of her chest.
"He's handsome, is he not?" The Empress said. "He's that runner from the foot-race a week or so ago."
"Of course," Antonina said, her eyes wandering over me. "I remember. A soldier from my husband's army. How has he served?"
Theodora laughed from deep in her throat, her lips curling into a smile. "I have no complaints."
"Ah," Antonina answered, her voice languid. "And tell me, how does he taste?"
My eyes bulged. I coughed, trying to keep the terror off of my face. My eyes flicked over to where the general still spoke to the Emperor. The two men were right there! What would they do to me if they heard?
The Empress sighed theatrically. "I'm afraid I don't know, 'Nina. My Leontius here has proven, set in his ways."
The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. "That’s not like you, 'Dora." Her eyes returned to me, curling around the shape of my face, the set of my shoulders and muscles of my arms. "I admit, I'm quite intrigued."
"Yes," the Empress said, her smile on me. "My Leontius is quite unique."
With that, the two women drifted away, leaving me with a belly full of this newest stress. It wasn't long before the Emperor ascended a nearby set of stairs. It brought him up to a speaking platform within full view of the gathered crowds.
He spoke to them, his voice carried along by a series of loud-voiced callers. He bade them welcome, offering his hopes for the day and informing them on the wars abroad. Ten or so minutes later, he signaled for the show to begin.
Trumpets blared and the crowd roared. Their thunder shook the very air. Down on the sands, a flood of jugglers, dancers and acrobats tumbled out. They were all dressed in either blue or green. Each performed at their utmost, all trying to outdo the others and capture the eyes of the crowd and of the attention of their faction lords.
Helena and I exchanged a handful of remarks while the spectacle unfolded below us. This was a pre-show of sorts, with the races only beginning a while later.
We did not speak much, however, both of us conscious of the weight of thousands of eyes. She did not slouch, her gaze forward. The attention of the world was upon us; and none would find fault with the way their Empress was protected.
A bare ten minutes had passed before I saw Antonina; who'd been seated next to the Empress, get up and come towards us.
"Here we go," Helena muttered.
The blonde-haired woman ignored her, meeting my gaze with a little smile curling her lips. "Leontius, is it not? You're to escort me to my chambers."
"Ah," I said, my heart suddenly beating faster. "Your chambers, mistress?"
"Yes," she said, her lips curling wider. "I'm afraid that I underestimated the heat of the day." She absentmindedly hooked a finger into her straining neckline and pulled. "It’s too hot. I need to get into something more, comfortable."
I coughed, managing to swallow past my now dry throat. I made a herculean effort of will to keep my eyes on hers. "Apologies mistress. I cannot leave the Empress."
"Oh, come now," she said. She leaned forward slightly, revealing more of the milky flesh of her breasts. "I might collapse. I really need to get out of these clothes."
I nearly choked.
I managed to shift my gaze to the side, my eyes flicking over to where the Emperor sat speaking with her husband. Belisarius was one of the most powerful men in the Empire, as famous for his temper as he was for his skill on the battlefield.
His back was too us now, but I needed no help imagining the fury that would paint his face if he found me alone in his wife's chambers. He might even have me crucified. The punishment had been abolished nearly two-hundred years ago. Perhaps my death would bring it back into vogue.
"I apologize again, mistress," I managed. "I cannot leave."
Something flashed across Antonina's expression, wiping her smile away for an instant before it returned. "Your dedication to your Empress is admirable, soldier. But my chambers aren't far. And I assure you, we will not be long."
"I'll take you there, Antonina," Helena cut in. "Leo here would probably only get lost."
I nodded energetically.
The woman's gaze flicked disdainfully over to where Helena stood. "Thank you, Helena, but no. I need a real guard."
"I promise that you'll be safe with me."
A little smirk twisted Antonina's lips. "Helena, please. You were always better on your knees than with that sword."
Helena flinched. Her eyes flicked to me before she lowered them. Her lips tightened, and she didn't speak again.
"Shall we, then?" Antonina said, her gaze returning to me.
I felt my face harden, angry now. "No."
She lost her smile. "Your Empress has granted you to me for this, soldier. You will do what I desire."
I opened my mouth to tell her exactly where she could shove her desires, but Helena spoke over me. "You'd better go, Leo." Her voice was tight with anger, but she held it. "The Empress is watching us. I'll keep her safe."
When I glanced over, I did indeed find Theodora's dark eyes on me. She smiled, nodding her head and turning away.
I grit my teeth. My eyes flicked back to Helena. She nodded as well, her cheeks flushed. "Go."
I let out a breath, finally deciding that I didn't have a choice. I had my orders. I followed Antonina out of the Hippodrome. She didn't speak to me as we moved through the wings of the Imperial Palace. She stayed ahead of me, her step sure.
My anger left quickly, replaced by renewed fear. I was alone, following the general's wife to her private chambers. But, as the minutes passed, I found that that started to fade as well. It was hard to stay terrified, guided as I was by the rhythmic sway of Antonina's hips.
The pale flesh of her thighs, and the rounded curves of her behind were clear beneath the yellow of her twice slitted dress. That narrow, swaying slice of cloth did little to hide the naked, firm-smoothness of her ass. I was hypnotized by the way the muscles shifted; held captive by the way she bounced. Gravity pulled at her; the weight of each heavy cheek adding to the snap of her hips.
We eventually arrived at a carved wooden door, the hallway empty around us. Antonina placed her hand on the handle, turning towards me.
"Come in with me, soldier."
"I will stay out here, mistress. I'll guard the door."
I expected her to be angry, would have welcomed it even. Instead, she just smiled; a spark of something flickering behind her eyes.
"Ah, Leontius," she said in that low, rich voice. She swayed towards me, her eyes never leaving mind. I was forced back until my breastplate scraped the wall. "You served beneath my husband, correct?"
I nodded, my heart pounding. I stiffened when I suddenly felt the warmth of her hand on my arm.
"Shush," she said. She'd touched my shield arm, her fingers finding the straps that bound it to me. "Don't worry. He adores me, you know. My Belisarius."
I didn't know what to do. I was trapped; frozen by her nearness and the scent of her flooding through me. It heady; a flowery scent with some spice that I didn't know.
"He's very protective."
My shield suddenly clattered to the floor, and I nearly jumped from my skin.
Antonina laughed, low and from deep within her throat. She leaned into me; her palms pressed against my breastplate.
"There’s no need to be afraid," she breathed. "Not if you give me what I want."
"Mistress?" I croaked.
"You'll give me what I want," she said. "Or my husband will hear that you attacked me."
I inhaled sharply. "What? Mistress, I,”
"Shush," she said again. That spark had turned to flames behind her eyes. Her palm rose to cup my cheek. "You're mine."
And I was. I was completely at her mercy; at the mercy of whatever word, she brought back to her husband. We were the only ones here. And of the two of us, it wouldn't be my word he'd believe.
"You will give me what I want," she repeated, curling her fingers to scrape along the stubble of my jaw.
I shivered, despite myself. Her lips curled further, and she pressed herself completely against me. My eyes were on hers, witness to the heat rising higher within her. Her fingers trailed down to the tip of my chin, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. With a slight bit of pressure, she pulled my head down, guiding my eyes down to where her breast pushed up against me.
My heart thundered in my chest. My eyes swallowed by the soft, creamy curves of her flesh. Already large, the way her body pushed into mine turned the slopes of her chest into a vast landscape that curled higher than I would have believed possible. The golden links of her chain had disappeared further from my sight; devoured by twin dunes that cascaded into each other.
I suddenly ached to follow it, to explore the darkness of her curves, guided by nothing but the heat and perfumed softness of her skin.
She made a small sound of pleasure. "You, see?"
Antonina leaned further into me, murmuring into the crook of my neck. Her breath tickled me and my body was wracked by another shiver. She made another small sound; something between a purr and a laugh.
"I am generous, Leontius."
The heat of her lips seared the skin of my neck, making me jump. My breath was ragged, the muscles of my body clenched tightly. The space between us was too hot; it burned with the heat from her eyes and our reddened flesh. I felt myself tighten further, shriveling into myself until I felt a spot of blessed relief.
Her tongue had emerged from between her lips, soothing my flesh with its liquid coolness. A low groan escaped my lips, my body loosening.
"I want to taste you, soldier."
She continued to kiss along my neck, moving higher. The cool wetness of her tongue emerged to ease each scalding touch of her lips. "I want to taste everything the Empress has not."
Her fingers scratched lightly through the hair of my jaw, making my skin erupt in bumps of sensitive goose-flesh. She pulled her lips away, their absence yanking another groan from deep within me.
Antonina raised my eyes back to hers. And there I saw it; the true endless, burning hunger within her. A dragon's appetite, one that could never truly be sated.
"I will have what I want," she purred.
She stretched herself higher, her lips parting to consumed me. Her breath was soft, gasping in her eagerness. My eyes flickered shut. I felt her nose brush against mine, her lips a bare fingers breath from my own.
"But," she breathed, an aching sweetness that swirled into me. "I can give, as well as take." Then, she pressed her lips to mine and kissed me.
I was still hers. I was the lamb in the grip of that same mythical dragon. I was at her mercy, and there was nothing I could do to escape her. I would be swallowed by her, used to feed the fire within her.
Yet, it was that truth that set me free. There was nothing I could. No laws, no rules of marriage, propriety or human goodness would protect me. It even silenced my mother's insisting voice. I'd be killed if I fought this.
And so, I might as well enjoy it.
I opened myself to her, parting my lips to let her taste me. Her tongue flicked into me, and mine rose to curl around it. I kissed her back, pushing against her. She gave way, my tongue following hers back into the sweetness of her mouth. She made another small sound in her throat, the coolness of her tongue guiding mine as it explored her.
We parted with a gasp; her eyes bright. Her breath was as frayed as mine.
"Let's take from each other then, soldier of my husband."
Then her lips were once again on mine; our tongues slipping around each other. My hand rose to where her chest pressed into mine. She moaned into me, angling herself so the heavy fullness of one breast fell into my palm. I caressed her through her silken dress, working my fingers around every curve.
Antonina pulled away from me again, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She took my hand in hers, guiding it up to one her bare shoulders. My fingers worked themselves beneath the strap, sliding it across the burning smoothness of her shoulder. Down her arm I brought it, my eyes locked on the straining hem of her dress.
"Hurry," she panted.
But I took my time. I let the fabric drift lower with every heartbeat, revealing more and more of her milky flesh. My eyes flicked to follow the emerging links of that golden chain, the warm metal hugging the curving shape of her. Finally, just as I was deciding to rip the dress away, a single one of her breasts burst free.
My breath caught, and I exhaled a moment later with a moan of raw need. My eyes drank in the sight of her lush, creamy fullness. Her nipple was small in the vastness of her curves; pert and pink and starting to stiffen in the naked air.
Her lips were back on mine, bruising in their strength. She moaned into me, while I gripped tightly onto the weight of her naked breast. My fingers explored every curve, flickering along the tautness of her nipple so that her body quivered. Her tongue was frantic into my mouth, tasting every inch of me as our breaths tore into each other.
Then, I felt her reach for the bulge between my legs. I growled, pushing hard into her body. Our lips parted for an instant, this time for a breathy laugh of satisfaction to escape her. My lips found hers once more, and her fingers began to work themselves over the covered stiffness of my phallus.
After a few more moments, she broke our kiss. Then, with her eyes burning into mine, her legs bent into a slow crouch. Her naked breast slipped from my hand as she descended. Her fingers trailed down the steel of my breastplate, her nails pinging against the metal. A sound I barely heard over the roaring of my blood.
Her face was level with my crotch now. And when her other hand joined the one massaging my bulging member, she pulled it free in one expert motion.
She made something like a whine, her eyes drinking in the sight of my aching hardness.
It rose, tall and eager before her. The pale flesh of it afire with need. Every ridge, every curve and vein visible beneath the skin stretched tight around it.
She wrapped me in her fingers, my body stiffening as I felt the heat from her palms. She began to working her wrist, running the softness of her hand up and down my twitching shaft. The motion was slow at first, her hand luxuriating in the fire that raged beneath my skin. I felt myself growing even harder; my phallus reaching out to close the space between us.
She leaned in closer, her tongue slipping out from between parted lips.
"Oh, fuck," she panted. "The smell. God, I love how it stinks."
Her hand worked my phallus faster, pumping up and down along my erection. I had no doubt that it smelled more powerfully than where Helena and the Empress had taken a sniff. I hadn't bathed since the morning before; and my manhood was no doubt sour with the sweat of hours spent in the summer heat. Antonina breathed it in, exhaling with gasping little moans of pleasure.
I reached down, my fingers digging beneath the cloth that still covered one side of her chest. I pulled, freeing her second breast. I massaged it, my fingers working themselves into the pillowy softness of her creamy flesh. I tugged and squeezed every part of it. And when my fingers found the pert, tautness of her nipple; I saw her other hand slip down beneath the slitted flap of cloth that dangled between her legs.
She groaned, a tremble working its way up her body. She stroked herself in rhythmic circles, and I longed rip the obscuring cloth away and gaze upon dewy pinkness of her folds.
It was in that moment, however, that her tongue flicked out to taste me. My phallus twitched, and any remaining thoughts I had were blasted from my mind. Her tongue flicked out again, this time as a long, luxurious stroke along the underside of my throbbing manhood.
She made a sound of satisfaction, her breath tickling the strip of cool, wetness that her tongue left behind.
"God, I love the taste of soldiers," she purred.
Then, in one careful motion, she pulled the skin of my shaft down, exposing my pink, bulbous head.
Antonina closed her eyes, letting herself breathe in the scent of it for one, long heartbeat. When she opened her still burning eyes, her gaze locked up onto my own. Then, without looking away, she pulled the tip of me into her mouth.
I moaned, my body going rigid. I wanted to throw my head back; to close my eyes and revel in the sensation. But I couldn't, trapped by her lust-slitted eyes and drowning in the blazing hunger that raged within.
Another moan rose from deep within me. God, she was good. The best I'd ever had. And I knew, in those first moments, that no demonic succubus from the deepest pits of Lucifer's hell could ever compare.
She worked the cool, lushness of her tongue in languid swirls. She wrapped it around my burning head, quenching me in the tight, liquid wetness of her mouth.
Antonina pulled me deeper into herself, her skull starting to slowly bob in time with the still rhythmic motion of the hand between her legs. Her other hand was still on my phallus, pumping up and down, drawing me all the way into her. I felt the tip of myself kiss the back of her throat, the feeling making my eyes flutter.
At the edge of my vision, I saw a stream of saliva start to dribble out from where her lips met my steaming member. The clear liquid trickled down onto the creamy flesh of her naked tits. I tore my eyes from hers, desperate to see.
Her breasts soon gleamed with trails of flowing moisture. I watched them bounce, quivering with every bob of her head; forcing those gleaming trails down the slopes of her.
A growl ripped its way from my throat; the scalding air within me blasting from my chest. My hands had flopped down to my sides when she'd first pulled me into her mouth. I brought one back up to her breasts, working my fingers back into the soft flesh and spreading her spit out over her slopes and valleys.
I coated her in it; making her tits shine. My other hand, meanwhile, reached higher. My fingers wove themselves into her curling locks of blonde hair. I gripped the back of her head tightly, pulling her onto me and forcing myself all the way into her. The tip of my phallus smashed against the back of her throat; where before it had only kissed. The rest of my erection folded itself to fit into her mouth. Her nose was now pressed into the curls of my pubic hair, her bottom lip brushing my hanging pouch.
I held her there a heartbeat, and then two. Her body was rigid, though her tongue still swirled around every part of me it could taste. I couldn't breathe, my every muscle clenched tight. Then, with a ragged exhalation, I released her, sliding myself back out of her.
My phallus popped free. Antonina gasped and her naked, shinning chest heaved. She let her tongue slip from her parted lips, a flood of saliva mixed with my own first fluids cascading down to further soak her tits. The liquid raced down her already moisture-slick flesh, some of it pouring around pink of her nipples.
"Don't stop," she panted.
Her eyes were glazed, fingers frantically working the folds beneath her legs. With her other hand, she pulled her necklace from the warm space between her breasts. She wrapped the golden, saliva-slickened links around my phallus, letting the heavy cross dangle beneath my still eager member.
She chained me to her; to her hunger. Her fingers closed around the chain, holding the heated gold in place.
"Don't stop," she said again, her voice ragged as the air between us. "I want to drain you dry."
I didn't hesitate, pushing myself back into her waiting mouth. I slammed my still bare head into the constricting depths of her throat.
Antonina moaned, and I felt the vibrations of it run through my entire length. She closed her eyes, her fingers slipping from around the chain; surrendering herself to me. I held her tight. I pounded the back of her throat again and again; feeling her teeth brush against me with every thrust of my hips.
I closed my eyes, my entire awareness on the feel of her warming mouth. Everything was so hot. And I was desperate, shriveling with the need to vent the inferno that was raging hotter and hotter within me.
Finally, with another growl clawing its way from me, I finished. I jammed myself as far into her as I could go, my entire body quivering with ever throbbing pulse of my release. Antonina didn't try and pull herself away. Instead, both of her hands flew up to my thighs, anchoring herself there as she devoured me.
She took everything I gave her, her tongue and throat flexing to draw every last drop from me. I felt the golden chain digging into my skin, wedged tight as it was between my pubis and her lips.
I let go of her hair, unwinding my fingers after the final tremors ran through me. I was completely spent.
Antonina slowly slid herself back off my phallus, something between throaty laugh and purr escaping her. She slipped the chain out from around me, the muscles beneath the naked flesh of her thighs shifting as she rose back to her full height.
"Very good," she murmured.
I panted, my lungs heaving, sweat sheathing me. Her eyes still burned, though it was now but the flicker of embers, rather than the blaze it had been. Her lips quirked into a satisfied smile, and I saw that not one drop of what I'd given her had escaped her hunger.
She pressed her gleaming chest against mine, bringing her mouth back up to mine. It was hot, and I tasted what remained of the sour heat I'd pumped into her.
"See what happens when you give me what I want?" She said, after pulling back. "You've earned my silence, soldier."
She stepped away, giving me another languid smile. "For now."
I stared at her, slack-jawed. My thoughts were just starting to return. She laughed, glancing down at her naked, slickened breasts while she reached a hand up to feel at the mess that I'd made of her hair.
"Hmm, look at what you've done to me. Guard this door then, soldier. Now I really have to get out of these clothes."
And then, still without having pulled her the hem of her dress back up to cover herself, she slipped past me and into the room beyond.
As my heartbeat slowed, and my breath evened, my mother's haranguing voice returned. These women were wicked, she said. There was no goodness here, no happiness to be found around such filth. I had to run, she told me, to return to the simple life I had.
But I didn't move, my eyes on the floor. I gazed into the puddle there. A spot of liquid wetness that had dripped onto the stone from the lush folds between her legs.
Perhaps it wasn't good, this thing I'd done with another man's wife. I didn't know. But surely this was a better liquid to spill than the blood in another's veins. This certainly had brought less pain into the world.
And I was waited for Antonina to emerge, hearing the roar from the Hippodrome grow louder; I wondered if that even mattered.
To be continued in part 3, Based on the works of Robyn Bee, for Literotica.
