ExplicitNovels

The Time Riders: Part 7

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The Time Riders: Part 7
Becoming A Slave Owner.

Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.



Cast of Characters:

Mark

Simmons: 18 year old High School grad,
enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life.
Uses various aliases in traveling.

Rebecca

'Becky' Fischer: Mark’s Physics teacher.
Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D
Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling.

Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary.

Chester

Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living
in 17th Century French village.

Cardinal

Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke’. Statesman and
Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne.

Alexandra

D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in
waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very
Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed.

Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled

brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual.

Dhallyla: Mark's mother.

Roxy: Mark's sister.

Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by

Becky, dark complexion.

Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother

of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely.

Flavius:

Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia,
protective father of Dometia,

Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A

pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation
by Roman court.

Pompeneia looked at Nanu and spoke to her somewhat tersely.

"You are now owned by the Lady Aurora Horatia, who has purchased you at
a fair price from me. Such belongings as you might have, girl, will be leaving
with you when the Lady departs. Understood?"

Nanu's eyes widened and she felt her heart suddenly pounding

in her chest in shock and delight. Unable to contain her smile, she nodded
eagerly.

Pompeneia looked back at her guest and smiled. "She

is all yours, my lady."

Becky looked at Nanu and smirked, making a shooing motion

with her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for, girl? Go find that
lazybones Bonosus and tell him."

Nanu was gone in a flash. Becky turned to look at Pompeneia

and smiled wickedly as she leaned her back down on the couch and wiggled her
way between Pompeneia’s hips, so that her mouth was at her hostess' cunt.

"Now, how about I find another way to thank you for

your generosity?" she purred as she began sliding her tongue along
those sticky lips;

Mark was wandering through the darkened rooms of the parts

of the house not currently being used by the orgy, still looking for a damn
lavatory. Why the Hell did the Romans have such fucked-up house layouts? He'd
passed about ten servants' bedrooms already; was he just supposed to piss on
one of them?

He paused as he heard a quiet noise, one he recognized

quickly as sighing. It had been coming from a room nearby, and it was
definitely a girl's sigh.

Or a really femmy boy slave. You couldn't guess in ancient

Rome. Either way, he decided to investigate. He tiptoed forward, looking into
various dark rooms he'd passed. He heard another sigh, and then something more
akin to a moan. He smiled slyly, identifying the room it had finally come from.
He crept up and peered around the open wooden doors to look inside;

She had her back to him, but inside the dark chamber, which

was obviously a bedroom, was a young woman, with her face seemingly pressed to
the far wall, and squirming her hips beneath her expensive clothing and
beginning to pant. She had voluminous brown hair worn up on her head, exposing
a shapely neck, and her stola dress had ridden up high enough to expose
her lush ass cheeks, which were quivering and squeezing while she fingered
herself.

Grinning, Mark leaned against the door frame and just

watched quietly. He wasn't beyond a good show.

A tiny point of light near her head finally showed Mark what

she was doing; there was a small hole in the wall, big enough for her to see
through, and she was clearly watching the orgy happening on the other side. She
was also clearly having a great time getting off to it.

He liked the sight of her, at least, what he could readily

see; she had a great ass, a slender back and shapely legs. Her dark brown hair,
worn in several braids, was just begging to be pulled on. He couldn't see her
cunt from here, but he could definitely hear how wet she was.

He quietly entered the room and glided up behind her. She

smelled of iris and roses, a perfume he found thrilling, especially here in
this dark room, both of them unseen by the scores of others in the villa. His
cock, still hard and throbbing, couldn't wait to be buried deep inside her.

He moved in close and pressed up against her, his rigid

shaft sliding between her legs. She shuddered in shock and drew in a breath, as
if she was about to scream; but he quickly and gently clamped his hand over her
mouth and wrapped his other hand around her waist. Her moved his head next to
her ear.

"You don't need to scream or be frightened,"

he whispered, feeling her still shaking. "I am the Lady Aurora's
servant Bonosus, and I just want to be with you this day;”

She turned her head, her eyes wide, as she tried to see him,

his hand still loosely over her mouth. Her body was still stiff in possible
panic, but she hadn't cried out yet. He smiled at her, trying to assure her he
meant no harm.

"If I let go of your mouth, will you scream?"

he asked. The girl shook her head. For whatever reason, Mark believed her, and
removed his hand from her mouth, and his arm from around her waist. She didn't
run, but she threw herself against the wall she was standing next to, almost
clutching at it as she turned around to face him. Her eyes were still wide, and
he could see she was breathing heavily.

"See? I'm not gonna hurt you," Mark said,

smiling cheerfully.

Staying pressed against the wall for safety, she looked him

up and down slowly, noticing now that he was quite naked. Her eyes lingered on
his erect cock for several seconds, as if captivated by it. He could now see
her from the front, and what he was looking at pleased him; she had a pretty
face, certainly. Not exotic, like Nanu, nor was she as striking and just plain
gorgeous as Becky, but it was a pretty face nonetheless. Her eyes were brown,
her cheekbones high, and her mouth sensual and full.

The face; he knew it.

Lady Pompeneia and Master Flavius! This must be their

daughter.

He continued looking at her body, noting now that her entire

outfit was askew; not only had her dress been pushed up around her hips in
front, to allow her to finger herself, but the top of her dress was pulled
down, no doubt so that she could play with her pert tits. They were not large,
but looked perfectly full on her slender frame, capped with brown aureoles and
nipples, which were still hard. She had a tiny waist and womanly hips.

He was going to enjoy fucking her.

"My name is Bonosus, like I said," he

repeated, moving in a tiny bit closer to her. She didn't try to escape, but
perhaps flattened herself a little more against the wall. He tried not to seem so
forceful. And odd thing, since he was at an orgy, and was already used to just
fucking whomever he liked. "Would you tell me your name?"

She finally spoke, her voice low and quiet. "My name

is Domitia. I am the daughter of your hosts, the Master and Mistress Flavius."

"I am very happy to meet you, Domitia," he

said, smiling and nodding. In his ear, he could hear the implant translate her
name as 'she who is tamed'. He suddenly had a very good feeling about this
encounter. "In the name of my mistress' goddess, Feronia, I would ask
you to join me in making love."

"You; you are kind, Bonosus," she

stammered, her face pale, but a flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were no longer
wide, but turning glassy. "But I must; I shouldn't;”

"I thought today was a day where all people cast

aside their inhibitions, and did exactly as they pleased," he
reasoned, stepping a little closer, noticing that she did not attempt to move
away from him. "I already saw you looking through that hole there;”

Now Domitia blushed furiously, turning her head to look at

the ground. "I am ashamed; I should not; I shouldn't have been;”

"What were you looking at, anyway?" he

queried, pressing himself against her, his cock now flat against her belly,
separated from her skin only by the fine material of her stola. She
shivered as she felt his cock press to her, and her hands reached up and
flexed, without touching him. Leaning over her shoulder, her wondrous scent in
his nostrils, he closed one eye and peered through the tiny hole in the ochre-painted
wall.

He smiled slyly as he could see that the hole looked out on

the palaestra, the courtyard in which he and Becky (and several others)
had been fucking earlier. Even now, he could see a man bending a slave girl
over in the shallow pool and fucking her from behind, while two women beyond
the pool were lying opposite each other, legs scissored and slithering their
pussies together. One of them was sucking on the cock of a slave who leaned
over her, moaning and fondling her tits.

"Well, you were enjoying yourself, clearly,"

Mark mused, turning and smirking at her. She looked at him, trying to smile
back, but then just blushing and looking at the ground again. At least she
wasn't trying to leave anymore. "Would you like to watch through the
hole again while I fuck you from behind?"

Something in his suggestion made her tense very suddenly,

and she looked at him again, her eyes now wide. "I; shouldn't; no, my
parents must not know I'm here, they; I should return to my domicile."

"Are you married?" he asked, thinking that

even if she was, she had showed up at her parents' orgy and was making herself
cum, even if she'd been hiding. Marriage didn't seem to be a barrier during an
orgy, near as he could tell. By his count, he'd already fucked at least four married
patrician women and three plebeian women today.

"Yes! No! I;” she stammered, blushing again and

closing her eyes. Against her will, she inhaled deeply, taking in his raw,
animal scent. Gods, he smelled divinely of sexuality, of carnality, of; heated
fucking. It made her instantly wet, and her body trembled in need. "I
cannot;”

He smiled slyly and could tell that she wanted to stay. Even

though she was protesting, he could already feel her hips pressing forward,
squirming against him, desperate to finish what she was started when she was
alone. She wanted to cum with him.

"Then don't say anything," he whispered to

her, his hands on her hips now. She shuddered again, her eyes wide and glassy
as she gazed up at him. "Let me take care of this for you, Domitia;”

He couldn't be sure, but the thought she nodded almost

imperceptibly. Her felt her tits press forward against him.

Her name means 'She who is tamed';

He took both her wrists in one hand and lifted them, pinning

them against the wall over her head. She gasped and shivered, seemingly cowed
by his superior strength. Her hips squirmed against him again, her tits heaving
as she almost began to pant. Her eyes were flashing now, and he could see lust
in them, almost as if it was forbidden and impure. He would give her what she
wanted, that was certain.

Domitia sucked in her breath as he put his free hand on her

tit and fondled her, the soft skin yielding before his touch, his palm brushing
over the hard nipple. Domitia bit her lip as she tried to remain quiet, her
whole body trembling with a need for release.

Mark caressed her other tit as well, pinching the nipple and

pulling on it gently, making the brown-haired girl whimper and squeeze her eyes
shut.

"No; uh;” she gasped.

His hand now found her waist and undid the cotton strip that

belted the stola, letting it fall away. Domitia was breathing heavily
now, especially when he began to pull her dress down, revealing more and more
of her body. She gasped loudly as she felt his hard cock pressed against her
belly now. She pushed her tits against his chest, squirming with urgency. Her
protests made less and less sense by the moment, although he surmised it was
just for show. Girls did that sometimes. At least, that's what Becky and other
girls he'd fucked had told him. Domitia seemed to be no exception.

Her stola now pooled around her ankles, revealing her

body. The one flickering brazier in the corner of the room revealed that he had
seen correctly; she had a lovely body. Not an erotic fantasy like Becky's,
which was the product of the modern era of vitamins, yogurt, quinoa, hemp seeds
and CrossFit, but still lush and attractive, and currently given to a
deep-seated lust he wanted to fulfill.

Her eyes were flashing as they stared up into his, her tits

heaving. She bared her teeth as he reached down and cupped her cunt, which was
now dripping wet. His finger slid up and down her length, finding her clit and
eliciting a gasp. Her hands, still pinned above her head, flexed compulsively.
She was breathing heavily now.

"Keep your arms above your head,"

Mark said firmly as he released them and brought his hand down, both of them
reaching behind her and taking hold of her ass cheeks. Domitia almost hissed as
he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She had
readily obeyed, and kept her arms over her head, as if they were still pinned
there. Her submission to him seemed very real and complete.

Looking into her eyes, he held her steady, leaning her back

against the wall while one of his hands guided his cock to her wet entrance.
One he felt the engorged tip nestle against her lips, he placed his hand back
on her ass cheek and began to push;

Domitia breathed deeply as he penetrated, but then shook and

whimpered as he encountered a barrier. Mark paused, but then felt her push her
hips against him, and proceeded to lean forward against the wall. She shook and
cried out, and Mark suddenly slipped deep inside her warmth easily.

Holy shit, she'd been a virgin; awesome!

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her

face against his neck, trembling almost uncontrollably. Seconds later, she
lifted her face and look up at him, her eyes glassy. Whatever pain she'd been
feeling was clearly gone, now. He could, on the other hand, feel a single, warm
trickle of a fluid down the underside of his cock, and the air smelled slightly
of pennies now.

"You have made me a woman," she murmured,

still staring at him. "Let us finish this wondrous coupling now. Fuck
me, Bonosus, servant of Lady Horatia;”

She put her arms back above her head again, her wrists

crossed, as a sign of his power over her. Mark nodded and began pumping slowly,
sliding his cock in and out of her. Domitia trembled again, at the feel of him inside
her, hard and throbbing, her cunt squeezing around him. She sighed loudly, eyes
still locked with his.

"A girl could die this way, and happily;” she

breathed, squirming her tits against his chest. It was a bit of a strange thing
to say, he thought, maybe a little morbid, but teen girls were like that
sometimes, with the weird, poetic drama. He'd fucked a goth chick once, and she
was;

Domitia grunted and began pumping back against him lustily,

all her fears of their fucking obviously gone. She was hissing through her
teeth, grinding her hips against him as he made a sawing motion with his,
pushing deep inside her wanton cunt. He could feel her cunt tightening around
him as she found their rhythm, slippery and getting wetter by the moment.

She jammed her lips against his and kissed him feverishly,

their tongues wrestling between their mouths. He held her tighter, thumping her
against the wall each time he thrust his cock deep inside her. She moaned into
his mouth, and her warm skin was getting damp with sweat as he took her. She
might have been a virgin mere moments ago, but her carnal desires would not be
denied anymore. Domitia pushed back for all she was worth, her arms finally
coming down and gripping his back.

They were still kissing in a frenzy, and Mark was breathing

through his nose, his hips smacking against hers. Domitia panted and moaned
into his mouth with each thrust, her fingernails raking his back as she fought
to get him ever deeper inside her. Her need almost baffled him, because he could
feel the head of his cock battering her cervix each time he drove home.
The wet sucking sounds her cunt made filled the room, even over the sounds of
their groans.

Mark was growing warm now, and he could feel that the sex

tabs he'd used had already replenished his cum, deep inside his balls. When he
did bust, this girl's first experience would see her overflowing with cum, his
cum, and it would be glorious. He wanted to bring her out of hiding and over to
the orgy. He wanted to fuck her at the same time as he fucked Becky and Nanu.

Domitia seized up suddenly, shaking around him and screaming

into his mouth while her cunt clenched him ferociously. He kissed her hard,
making sure she didn't alert the whole house, and fucked her harder than ever,
making her wail into his mouth again. He could feel his own body heating up
rapidly, the distinct, tingling boiling in his balls letting him now that
orgasm was now unstoppable.

Mark pulled her hard against him, pressing into her as far

as he could, straining and arching his back.

The floodgates burst and he began filling Domitia with his

pearly cum, and she panted and almost growled at the release. She churned and
writhed on his cock, her frothy essence smearing his entire groin. He felt the
peristaltic motions of his inner muscles, spurting his cum up his cock and deep
inside his lover, a glorious, blessed release.

Best. Orgy. Ever.

He sagged against her, breathing heavily, while Domitia went

limp in his grip, sighing in deep pleasure. She was no longer raking her
fingernails over his back but caressing it gently, almost reverently. It was
kind of backwards, since he was supposedly a slave and she was a patrician's
daughter, but what the hey, she was a total subbie, right?

She purred as she kissed his damp skin, still undulating her

hips against him and squeezing his cock gently with her gooey cunt. He held her
close, his forehead against her neck while he tried to regain his breath. This
orgy was barely half over. There was so much to;

The screech from behind them froze his blood instantly. He

went rigid for several moments, before his head snapped around and he looked to
see who was in the doorway.

Gazing at the entwined pair in astonishment, bordering on

horror, was Nanu. Still quite naked, her face was frozen in shock, her mouth
working soundlessly. Confusion engulfed him, wondering what had caused the
slave-girl to have such a caustic reaction to what she'd seen. Was it jealousy?
It couldn't be that; she'd watched him fuck plenty of other women today.

He looked back at Domitia, and saw that she had frozen as

well, pale with what could only be described as terror about their discovery.
That confused him too. What the Hell was happening here?

Endless feet seemed to come stampeding toward them, and

cries of shock now echoed through the house. Master Flavius surged through the
door and stopped dead, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Domitia!" he said in a quavering voice,

pointing a trembling finger at the duo. "What are you;"

Lady Pompeneia, accompanied by Becky, now bustled into the

room. The matron stopped dead upon seeing them, her body shaking. Becky's eyes
went wide.

"Oh, shit;” she muttered in English.

"Father!" Domitia called out, still impaled

on Mark's cock, but looking over his shoulder at her parents. "Mother,
I;”

She made to move, but Mark's tool shifted inside her, and

she gasped in pleasure and began wriggling furiously, fucking him again despite
their ever-growing audience. People cried out in shock, and Lady Pompeneia's
eyes rolled into her head before she fell to the floor in a dead faint. The
cacophony grew, with Mark staring in confusion and Domitia grunting like an
animal as she fucked her way to ecstasy again, seemingly unable to stop.

A patrician woman entered and shrieked, scandalized by what

she saw.

"The slave!" she called out, aghast. "He

has defiled one of Vesta's Virgins!"

As if in response, Domitia shook and arched her back,

wailing loudly as she came.

"Seize that man!" shouted Flavius, his face

purple with fury. Free men and slaves both surged forward, grappling onto Mark
and trying to yank him away. But Domitia would not be pried off him, howling in
protest and still grinding herself madly on his cock, squealing through another
orgasm, even as they led the pair away. Most of the crowd followed them out,
still clamoring loudly. Some women helped the swooning Pompeneia to her feet,
and led her out of the room. Soon, the only people left were Becky and Nanu,
who stood in the doorway. The slave-girl stared at her new mistress, who shrugged
rather helplessly.

Nanu turned and followed the crowd, leaving Becky alone in

the room. It was eerily quiet now, the noise of the crazed crowd getting
increasingly distant; people yelling in outrage, punctuated by the distinct
sounds of Domitia cumming yet again, loudly.

Becky finally hung her head for a moment, shaking it and

smiling.

"Oh, I can't wait to see how this turns out;”

she said to herself as she walked out the door.

The Wrath of Rome

The mightiest city in the world, lord of Europa, teeming

with untold citizens, slaves and foreigners. Blessed by Jupiter, greatest of
the gods, and fed by the ancient Tiber River, Rome stood glorious and
invincible, crowned with seven hills like jewels.

Not that Mark could see any of that from his tiny, stinky

little prison cell.

He sat on the dirty floor, sighing despondently as he looked

through the iron bars that separated him from the rest of the world. He'd found
a corner that was not sticky with the effluences of previous inhabitants of the
cell, crouching up with his knees to his chest. He suspected that the tab he
was wearing would protect him from disease and sickness, but he'd be damned if
he was taking any chances.

He heard grunting and groaning from the cells behind him,

then an absolutely disgusting series of splattering noises as someone began
crapping themselves messily. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion and stared along
the bottom of the wall, making sure nothing was likely to seep through.

He turned his head and stared blankly across the small

hallway at the cell opposite. Out of the darkness, a deranged, naked man
appeared, his wild, scraggly beard greying and caked with God-knows-what. He
cackled at Mark and helicoptered his cock at the new prisoner, all the while
trying to shake the bars of his cell.

Mark shook his head and looked away, finding a spot on the

wall to stare at. He noted some graffiti, in Latin, brown with age; it was
either dried blood or shit, but he decided he didn't care enough about what it
said to get closer.

He'd taken off the ratty tunic they'd given him, because it

stank and had things crawling in it. Since he'd been arrested and dragged off
naked from the Flavius villa, with Domitia still impaled on him, they'd eventually
attempted to cover him up; somewhat difficult, since he was suffering from what
was essentially medically induced priapism.

Even now, he gazed down between his legs, noticing that his

cock was still rock-hard. Had the tab malfunctioned? Was he supposed to stay
erect this long? What the Hell kind of sex were they having in the
twenty-eighth century that a guy needed to stay hard for a day and a night?

He closed his eyes and pressed his head against his

forearms, trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong; how the Hell was he
supposed to know that there was a Vestal Virgin hiding in the damn house and
masturbating?

He'd heard of Vestal Virgins, of course, but he knew nothing

about them. He'd paid attention in History class only moderately more than he
had in Physics. Seemingly, he'd done an incredibly bad thing. Like 'fucking a
pastor's blind virgin daughter on the altar' kind of bad. As decadent as Rome
might have been, you didn't mess with their Vestals.

He wished Becky was here. He hadn't seen her since he'd been

dragged away from the villa, and he hoped she was okay. He had no idea if she
was going to be in trouble or not, since she was supposed to be his owner.

He groaned and shook his head, wishing he'd just wake up and

this was all a dream; “Damn!”

"Shut up in there!" said one guard harshly

as he walked by.

"Gonna make me, tough guy?" Mark grumbled,

once the chip in his head had translated what the guard said, even though he
could've probably figured it out on his own.

The guard whirled around and stuck his arm through the bars,

trying to hit Mark with the cudgel he was carrying. Mark hurriedly dodged out
of the way and grabbed the club from the man's hand; the guard's eyes widened
as Mark glared down at him, much taller than his would-be assailant. Mark was
just over six feet, while the Roman was maybe five-three.

The man's gaze dropped to Mark's erection, which pointed at

him angrily.

"Listen, pal," Mark growled, beyond caring

about his hard-on at this point. "Try that again, and I'll shove this
club of yours so far up your ass that you'll have splinters in your tongue for
a month. Got it?"

The man nodded hastily, his face pale.

"Good," Mark grunted, shoving the cudgel

bac through the bars at him. "Now fuck off and leave me alone."

The guard hurried away while the crazy guy across from Mark

cackled again and babbled incoherently at his retreating form. Mark slumped
back down and continued moping. He'd been in this little crap-hole for the best
part of a day now, without food or a chance to relieve himself, unless he chose
to piss on the floor. He felt rather justified in sulking. Several minutes
passed before he was interrupted once again.

"Well, you look pretty grumpy for someone who spent

most of yesterday getting laid;” chimed a sweet voice.

Mark's eyes flicked open and he stood up hastily, gawking at

his Physics teacher, who stood outside his cell, smiling at him in amusement.

"Becks!" he said hastily, wiping at himself as if

he had clothes on, forgetting that he was naked. "Hi! Uh; I'm glad you're
okay!"

"It's good to see you too, handsome," she replied,

her eyes trailing down to his erection. She was wearing the elegant stola
and accoutrements of a patrician woman now, much more modest than her attire
just the day before. "Guess your hormones haven't worn off yet, hmm?"

"Oh, he's got a mind of his own," Mark muttered,

blushing slightly. "Trust me, the lynch mob was quite a libidoectomy.
Where've you been?"

"Well, once you got carted off, I thought I'd better

take a look into what was likely to happen to everyone involved," she
stated, seemingly not that concerned. "Roman litigation is a weird thing.
They have trials, and you'll have a lawyer appointed to you, but the court of
public opinion really counts as well, it seems."

"So, I really screwed up when I fucked one of their

Vestal Virgins?" Mark asked, trying not to sweat.

Becky smiled. "Mark, you had no way of knowing, because

she never should have been there to begin with. Vestal Virgins don't, in
theory, belong to their parents any more, after they're selected for the honor.
For her to be hiding in a room in her parents' house, jilling off, is a huge
breach of her vows already, never mind getting caught with you bruising her
brainstem."

Mark thought about that for a moment. "So; Domitia's in

trouble too?"

"She's in even more trouble than you, to be

honest," replied the teacher, shrugging. "You, you're some shmuck
slave who got lucky. Her, she broke Rome's most sacred vows. She might as well have
squatted over and peed on the Sacred Flame they protect, to extinguish it.
Everyone associates the Vestals with the spiritual well-being of Rome itself.
If one of the Virgins is impure, it's bad for Rome."

"Damn;” he said under his breath, frowning at the

floor. "Well, what about you? Are you in shit at all, because you're my
owner?"

"Well, not so far," Becky mused. "I'm sure

that can change at a moment's notice, if anything goes really wrong."

"Really wrong?" Mark exclaimed, gesturing to the

cell around him in exasperation. "If this is only moderately wrong, I'd
hate to see what’s really wrong you're going on about!"

"Oh, don't be such a drama llama," she cooed,

waving dismissively. "We'll figure this out."

"Are you okay, Becks?" he asked, making a wry face

as he looked at her. "Last time we were in trouble like this, you kinda
She-Hulked out on everyone, remember? You kicked at least five people in the
crotch, one of whom was Cardinal Richelieu."

"Yeah," she said almost wistfully. "I think

my system is flooded with hormones from those tabs, and they're making me
pretty mellow. I'm still in love with you right now, for instance."

"Well, not to exploit your chemical imbalance here, but

what are the chances of you doing something to make sure the man you're in love
with doesn't die in this cell?" Mark said rather insistently.

"Oh, you won't die in this cell," Becky pointed

out. "The Romans weren't big on imprisonment at this point in their
history. They're probably either gonna behead you or crucify you."

"Becks!" Mark said loudly, going pale and

beginning to panic. "You can't let them behead me, I like my head where it
is!"

"Yes, you are rather attached to it," she giggled.

"And don't worry about getting crucified, only I'm allowed to nail you, after
all. And speaking of;”

She slinked forward, smiling saucily at him, lifting the hem

of her long stola, revealing her wet cunt beneath. She turned around,
presenting her shapely ass to him and swaying it back and forth while looking
over her shoulder at him.

"How about you put that stout nail of yours in my tool

box?" she purred.

"Now?" he exclaimed.

"Not like you have anything else to do at the moment,

Mark," she pointed out, still wiggling at him. "Move up to the bars
and stick it out here;”

Ignoring his exasperation, Mark sighed and pressed himself

up against the bards, his rigid cock sticking out the other side. Becky lined
up her sticky cunt with the head and pushed herself back on it, sighing in
bliss as she did. Mark trembled as he penetrated her, having to admit to
himself that it felt good to be inside his teacher.

Becky closed her eyes as began squirming back against him,

sliding his hardness in and out of her cunt. Eighteen hours without sex had
felt like eighteen years, no doubt due to the hormones from the tabs. She
guessed that their bodies, new to these stimulants from the far future, were
not acclimated to the effects just yet; not that she was complaining, mind. She
groped and massaged her tits as they spilled out of the top of her stola,
reveling in the feel of Mark's lovely cock splitting her wide and touching deep
inside.

She stood up and pressed back against the bars, keeping his

manhood firmly locked inside herself, wiggling and swaying, but also bringing
his hands around to her tits, which he now squeezed and massaged in circles,
making her groan loudly. The bars kept them apart somewhat, but he was still
deep inside her, and that was what counted.

Until she opened her eyes and saw the crazy guy in the cell

across from them, looking at her with wild eyes, his tongue lolling out of his
head, and jerking his filthy cock madly.

"I miss seeing your face, Mark," she decided,

turning around suddenly and pressing close to him again. She made him hold the
bars, steadying his throbbing cock while she sidled forward, taking him inside
her cunt again, sucking in her breath. She held onto the bars as well,
squirming her hips. The bars were too closely spaced together to fit her legs
through and wrap them around his hips, but he was still deep enough inside her
to fuck her properly.

"Hmm, baby;”

If any guards knew what was happening, they chose to not

interfere or even be nearby. They left the wealthy patrician woman alone. Of
all the places Mark had expected to fuck Becky during their temporal travels,
this would have been one of the last, he had to admit.

Becky pushed her lips against his, kissing him deeply and

lovingly. Their tongues tangled as she fucked him, exhilarating in the feel of
his hard shaft in her and knowing she was going to cum quickly, and hard. She
broke the kiss and stared into his eyes, her own flashing with lust.

"You gonna cum in me, Mark?" she breathed,

grinding on him hard, biting her bottom lip. "I want your cum in me,
baby."

He nodded, breathing heavily. He'd practically forgotten

about his predicament, lost in the delirium of fucking his teacher. He pumped
his hips back and forth in time with her movements, her cunt tightening around
him and getting wetter with every second. He felt his cock throbbing and swelling
inside her.

"Yes, baby," she gasped, her skin flushed pink,

her body trembling as she fought to hold on a few moments longer. "Cum
deep inside me, Mark; oh God;”

Becky clenched her teeth and arched her back as she pushed

forward with her hips, straining hard; she felt Mark push against her as hard
as he could, touching her cervix, and she shuddered and moaned loudly. The dam
burst and he began cumming inside her, flooding her cunt with his desire. Becky
shivered in pleasure, squeezing around him.

They both sighed as the orgasm finally passed, leaning

forward and pressing their foreheads together. Her fingers knotted with his and
she gave him a peck on the lips before smiling.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Oddly enough, yeah," he admitted, nodding. "So

what do we do now? I don't wanna die here, Becks."

"I know, don't worry, we'll figure it out," she

replied, caressing his face with one hand while lowering the skirt of her stola
with the other. "I've just gotta find out some things."

"Can't we just bust me outta here and get out of

Dodge?" he asked, not sure what the delay was.

She gave him a quirky look. "Are we just supposed to

leave Domitia to her fate? It's your fault she's doomed to death, you know. And
there's also the matter of Nanu and what to do with her. We can't just prance
around the timeline and mess up things with peoples' lives, Mark. I know you do
it because you want to get laid, but there's still real consequences. You're
living one of them."

He sighed: "Yeah, you're right. I'm just worried."

"I know you are, my love," she said gently,

smiling warmly. "Just let me see what I can find out. Hang tight and stay
out of trouble, okay?"

She kissed him again lovingly and whispered something in his

ear before sauntering out. He watched her leave and then sat back down, trying
to ignore the fact that his hard-on was now sticky, on top of everything else.
Getting shot by Richelieu may be have been ultimately worse, but this
predicament was certainly less convenient. Some hours passed, and his mood
decidedly did not improve.

"Hello, my name is Faustus, and I am your legal

representation during your trial," said a dull voice from beyond his
cell. Mark's eyes drifted over to lay on a short, pudgy, balding man draped in
a rather worn toga. He had some scrolls in a satchel he wore over his shoulder.
He assessed Mark somewhat disinterestedly. "You are the slave Bonosus,
yes?"

Mark nodded.

"And you are aware of the charges against you?"

"Yup, I unknowingly boned a Vestal Virgin,"

Mark sighed, standing up, figuring he probably shouldn't be showing anyone any
disrespect at this point. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well, ignorance of the law is not likely to work as

a defense in this particular instance, given the charge," Faustus
said, tapping his satchel with his fingers. "Normally it might mitigate
charges, but not where the Virgins are involved. At this point, I'm trying to
spare you a cruel and painful death."

"Swell," Mark said, his voice laden with

apathy. "So, like, beheading instead of crucifixion sort of thing?"

"Unless crucifixion is your preference, for some

strange reason," replied the lawyer. "There is also the matter
of your fee for my services in defending you?"

Mark frowned: "I'm a slave, what am I supposed to be

able to give you? Shouldn't you be talking to my owner, the Lady Aurora?"

"The lady is proving difficult to contact, what with

the entire city being in an uproar about you and all," Faustus
reasoned, shrugging. "It may be up to you to see that my fees are met."

"I don't have anything!" Mark protested

somewhat angrily.

Faustus trailed his gaze down Mark's well-built body,

finally fixating on his erect cock and smiling lewdly. "Oh, I wouldn't
say that;”

Mark groaned and thunked his head against the iron bar that prevented

his escape. He was wrong. This was worse than getting killed by
Richelieu's men.

Trial of Mark.

Mark now found himself going through downtown Rome, but once

again spending little time looking at the city; he was being hauled inside a
cage on wheels along the Via Aurelia, with untold thousands of people
lining the road, shouting, screaming and hissing at him. Rotten vegetables and
rock-hard bread pelted his mobile prison, most of the projectiles not getting
through to touch him. Mark didn't care. He stared out dully at the cacophony
and churning masses of humanity, fully aware that his erect cock was pointing
at them.

He looked at the famed Palatine Hill and saw a large, rotund

temple there, along with a vast manor. Outside the manor, standing on those
distant steps, he saw many women dressed as Domitia had been, with their hair
worn in the same style, staring down at him impassively. He almost laughed
bitterly, knowing exactly who they are. No young person, ever, understood
better than Mark now how important it was to pay attention to your studies.
After all, it was about to cost him his head.

His eyes widened when he saw Domitia dragged out the front

doors of the manor by several servants and forced to look down at him. She
seemed none the worse for wear, except for looking rather distraught and
haggard. He saw, but could not hear her cry out at the sight of him, before
being yanked back inside roughly, resisting the whole way.

His lawyer, Faustus, had informed him that he'd be tried in

a public court, his sentence determined there as well. If all went well, he
wouldn't be made to wait long before his sentence was carried out. The waiting
was the worst part, the lawyer assured him.

The procession took forever, at least in his estimation. He

was covered in tomato pulp and seeds, and bits of lettuce and other debris were
sticking to him.

"Will they at least allow me to bathe or clean up

before my trial?" he'd complained to Faustus. He stank and he didn't
like it. The lawyer said he'd see what he could do. On and on, his mobile
prison rumbled slowly.

They entered a crowded forum, surrounded by the white

buildings Rome was renowned for. He saw several landmarks, but barely noted
them. The presence of soldiers became heavier now, guarding against disturbances
from the famously fickle and moody population of the city. They arrived at the
courthouse, and he was hauled out of his cage by the chains his wrists were
bound in. He ignored the cries and vitriol of the crowd, who had stopped
throwing things, for fear of hitting a soldier or important person. At least
there was that.

He was brought into a small anteroom, where a pool sat in

the center. He was unchained and shoved into it, allowed to bathe. Several
Roman legionaries stood over him, one holding a whip in case Mark dawdled for
any reason. Careful not to anger them, Mark cleaned himself diligently, but
also as quickly as possible. When he got out of the pool, they dressed him in a
plain but fresh tunic made of low-grade linen. There was one rather prominent
problem, however, and the commander of the squad guarding him looked at Mark's
crotch and scowled.

"Does that thing ever go down?" he snapped.

"Look, you're not as unhappy as I am about it,"

Mark shot back, exasperated about his condition. "Believe me! I
had too many oysters at the orgy and now it won't go away."

The commander thought about the predicament for a moment. He

couldn't bring his prisoner into the courtroom sporting an erection. He finally
ordered one of his men to tie a strap of linen around Mark's hips, keeping the
obscene erection fixed flat against his belly. The legionaries chuckled as he
was trussed, but then became serious as they prepared to lead him into the
courtroom.

Mark took a deep breath as he was led into the chamber that

would determine his doom.

Becky was squatting in a hallway, humming quietly as she

sucked on the cock of a young lad who was running documents back and forth
within the courthouse. He was pressed back against the wall, his eyes closed
and moaning in pleasure as he let her work her magic. He didn't know exactly
who this patrician woman was, but he wasn't about to stop her, either.

Becky bobbed back and forth, swirling her tongue around his

hardness and gently caressing his balls. She couldn't believe how horny she
was! It had been more than twenty-four hours since the orgy and these sex
stimulants were still wreaking havoc with her libido. If this kid lasted, maybe
she could fuck him? She needed a good orgasm.

A horn sounded outside the courthouse, and Becky paused

mid-suck, opening her eyes and turning her head slightly to look in the
direction of the noise, her cheek bulging comically as his cockhead pushed into
it. The young man was still trembling and almost whimpering, even though she
was distracted.

"Damn, is it time for the trial already?" she

exclaimed to herself before she stood up, straightened out her elegant stola
and hurried down the hallway. The young paralegal gaped at her retreating form,
his body trembling and his cock throbbing.

"But I; I;” he protested, even though she was

gone.

He couldn't stop it. He whimpered and danced about on his

toes, cum spurting from his aching cock. He grabbed his crotch and sighed
deeply, doubling over at the release. Too late, he opened his eyes and noticed
he'd spattered his jizz all over the documents he'd been bringing for the
trial;

"The accused is named Bonosus, a slave owned by Lady

Aurora Horatia," announced one of the scribes in the room, a rotund
chamber that had benches lining most of the walls, allowing for spectators.
Today it was crowded, because the charges were so extraordinary. "Prior
to this trial, the lady Horatia has been determined free of all guilt, with no
investigation or charges needing to be brought forward."

Becky, sitting near the trial stand, smiled and winked at

the presiding praetor judge, an older, distinguished man, who subtly
winked back at her before turning his attention back to Mark, staring sternly.
Mark stood alone in the center of the rotunda, his hands and feet manacled, a
single beam of wan light shining down on him from a hole in the center of the
domed ceiling. He looked back at the judge blankly.

"The accused is charged with disgracing a sacred

virgin of the goddess, potentially putting great Rome in her disfavor, and such
charges warrant only the ultimate of punishments, your honor!"
declared a man in a well-embroidered toga made of exquisite fabric and trimmed
in yellow. Mark assumed this was the lawyer meant to prosecute him. "For
this heinous crime, Rome must be cleansed, to appear cleansed in the eyes of
Vesta! We demand this Bonosus be burned at the stake!"

Mark swallowed and looked at Faustus, who was sweating and

wiping at his collarbone, trying not to fidget. People around the room were
talking and whispering to one another. The judge looked down at the pudgy
lawyer. "What say you on behalf of the accused,
man?"

"I;” he began, already faltering. "Your

Honor, we feel that the defendant, being a mere slave ignorant of all law and
education, had no way of knowing that he was indeed in contact with one of
Rome's sacred girls. In that light, while we do not protest his guilt, we ask
for clemency; lashes, if possible, or exile beyond the Empire's borders; but if
he must die for this crime, let Great Rome show its much-famed mercy and give
my client a swift beheading."

People in the gallery began shouting angrily in protest at

his words, while many of the advocates and adjudicates involved in the case
began laughing derisively. Nobody seemed to be in Faustus' corner about this.
Mark flicked his eyes up at Becky, and she was simply looking in impassively. A
sinking feeling in his stomach took over his senses. Despite his fear, his cock
throbbed in yearning at the sight of her.

"Faustus, Faustus," chided the lawyer

representing the city of Rome, shaking his head almost ruefully. "My
dear Faustus, you are so good-hearted, but this defendant of yours did not
simply assault one of the Sacred Virgins, he did not merely violate her chaste
body, he sublimated her. He changed her! He has corrupted her! Bring in the
girl!"

Mark's eyes widened as Domitia was dragged into the chamber,

clad in her sacred robes, but with strips of red fabric bound to her arms and
around her forehead. She looked terrified, but then she saw Mark and her eyes
widened.

Before anyone could stop her, she broke free of the servants

holding her and dashed forward, howling loudly and falling to her knees at his
feet. Everyone gaped in astonishment as she lifted his tunic, releasing his
cock from its confinement against his stomach, kissing and then sucking on it
hungrily, plunging it all the way down her throat in crazed need.

People howled in shock and outrage at the scene. Mark, who

hadn't had any sex in over twenty-four hours and was in horny agony, groaned
loudly despite himself and gripped her head, pumping his hips against her face
desperately as people rushed toward him and tried to pull them apart.

Someone finally managed to pry Domitia's mouth away from his

cock, but when spectators tried to drag her away, she wildly latched her legs
around his waist, grinding and humping at him in a desperate frenzy of lust,
the skirt of her stola giving way and allowing her to spike herself onto
him. The judge and other officials watched in bewilderment as the fracas
stumbled around the rotunda, with people trying desperately to pull them apart.
They were yanking at Domitia, who was panting and crying out in ecstasy, while
Mark groaned in relief and need, despite the people clawing at him and punching
him.

One enterprising and rather stout legionary knelt beside the

fornicators and grabbed hold of them, straining to separate them. Domitia's
yelps and Mark's moans became desperate grunts to hold one to one another for
several seconds. Eventually, though, Domitia's legs gave out and she was
dragged back from him. Mark roared in protest as he shivered and came a
split-second after she had been pulled off him. His cock, now released from its
warm, wet confines, smacked the legionary across his nose and spat ropes of cum
in his eye and across his face. He wailed at the sting and fell on the floor,
kicking in panic and trying to wipe the spume out of his eyes.

Domitia was finally restrained, and her mouth gagged to stop

her howling. She continued to struggle, but it was no use. At last she sagged,
seemingly exhausted. Mark looked around, finally noticing Lord Flavius and Lady
Pompeneia in the crowd, looking on in horror and mortification. He glanced up
at Becky, but she was looking at the ceiling and covering her mouth, trying not
to laugh.

"This!" said the prosecutor angrily,

jabbing his finger first toward Mark and then at Domitia. "This is what
the accused has done to one of the sacred Virgins! Turned her into an
uncontrollable harlot! She is so completely undone that she cannot think of
anything except quenching the fire between her wanton loins!"

Many women gasped or cried out at his unprecedented words,

while men muttered to one another. Lady Pompeneia looked like she was ready to
faint again.

"This is an outrage!" Lord Flavius shouted

furiously. "We gave our daughter to the state willingly, to fulfill her
destiny as a priestess of the goddess, and now we see ourselves unfairly
shamed! And this; this; slave; endangers the safety of us all, calling our
favor with Vesta into question!"

"Do you call charges against the Lady Horatia to

ruin your good name?" asked the prosecutor coolly.

"Oh, no, no, of course not," Lord Flavius

said hastily, shaking his head and looking over at Lady Aurora. "She
remains blameless in all of this, assuredly."

Becky winked at Lord Flavius, and then subtly at the

prosecutor, who smiled and winked back.

"Jesus, Becks;” Mark muttered, scowling at the ground.

"You've been around the pool more times than Katie Ledecky since we got
here;”

"Silence!" boomed the judge angrily, his

face still rather purple from witnessing the lewd chaos wreaked in his court.
"Centurion, strike that man if he won't show respect!"

Mark grunted and staggered as the centurion standing close

to him cuffed him across the ear. He stayed upright, but glowered at the man.
"Wanna try that while my hands aren't cuffed, asshole?"

"Silence!" roared the judge, turning purple

again as other guards kept Mark from jumping on his assailant.

"You are a creature of vile sin!" shouted

Lord Flavius from the benches, pointing a trembling finger at Mark.

"Yeah? Who cares?" Mark shot back, glaring

at his host. "Your wife wasn't complaining yesterday when she rode my
hog to the Promised Land, was she? No complaints from your daughter, either!"

Lord Flavius howled in fury as he tried to rush the floor

but was restrained. Lady Pompeneia fainted again. Another guard cuffed Mark on
the back of the head, staggering him again, but this time he didn't have a
snappy comeback. He looked angry, but his face had a tic suddenly. People were
shouting and crying out in horror at the chaos the proceedings had become.

"What manner of devil are you, boy?" the

judge hissed at Mark.

"Oh, I'm here to fuck every woman in Rome,"

Mark said sarcastically, tired of this bullshit. "I meant for a Vestal
Virgin to be last, ya’ know, sort of the proverbial cum icing on the titty
cake. But the opportunity came up, and wham, bam, thank you, Vesta;”

People shrieked in outrage, and Faustus pissed himself,

staring at Mark in dumbfounded horror.

"That's right, gents, line 'em up!" Mark

said angrily, his face still twitching. Why was he saying these things? Was the
chip in his head giving him Tourette's? He wiggled his erection before the
entire room, since his tunic had got caught on it when he was separated from
Domitia and it was still in plain view, glistening with her spittle and cunt
juice. "Bring your uppity wives and daughters to me, I'll make 'em
behave!"

Faustus just threw his legal scrolls in the air and stormed

off. Another legionary tried to punch Mark, but he dodged the punch and rammed
his forehead into the man's nose, just avoiding his helmet. The man fell
backwards, holding his face. Mark might have tried to kick him, but there were suddenly
ten legionaries surrounding him, their swords pointed at his throat. Mark held
very still, glowering.

The judged barked for the legal scrolls he was meant to

consult during this trial, but they were not to be found. He yelled for them
again, and a young man barged in hastily from the back door to the rotunda, and
the chamber beyond, carrying armfuls of scrolls. He dumped them on the judge's
stone table and scurried off without another word. The judge made to pick up
one of the documents, but paused; it was sticking to another scroll. He frowned
and pulled them apart, noticing that a pearly residue was the source of the
problem. Worse, the scroll pages became slippery as he tried to pry them apart.

The sticky substance was all over them. And his fingers now.

He quietly put the parchments down and shoved them aside.

Once the judge had composed himself, clearly livid about the

circus his courtroom had become, and once Mark was facing him again, he leaned
in and asked a question. "Do you have anything to say before your
sentence is pronounced?"

"Don't you think this is enough of a sham that we

should just get it over with?" Mark grumbled.

"What?" the judge asked, confused.

"I said, how about you get this show on the road,

because thousands of my potential children have a date with your mom's face
tonight!" Mark snapped, jerking slightly. What the absolute fuck was
happening? He wasn't speaking Latin anymore, he was speaking Greek!

"You mock us by speaking Greek?" demanded

the judge, rising from his chair. "Do you seek to invalidate this court?"

"This court is full of invalids already!"

Mark raged, the chip inside his head sputtering. Apparently one of the blows to
his head had made it misfire. "Get your mother out here already! And
your daughter too!"

The judge slumped back on his stone chair, as if stunned by

what Mark was saying. Everyone in the court was silent, waiting to see what
happened next.

He turned to Domitia, who was restrained nearby. "Domitia,

former daughter of the Flavian household and former sacred child of Vesta;
since it is profane to spill the blood of one of the goddess' chosen, even one
as far-fallen as yourself, with the approval of the Pontifex Maximus, you will
be buried within the city, confined in a small chamber until you expire. Such
is our way when dealing with such crimes."

She sagged in the arms of the people holding her. Not far

away, her mother Pompeneia could be heard to burst into sobs.

He looked at Mark, his face betraying nothing. "There

is no punishment I can bestow upon you to mitigate the excesses of your crimes
against the state," he said evenly. "Bonosus, slave of no name, you
are to be crucified outside of the city, and your cross set on fire, to purify
the glorious city of Rome of your corruption. Your sentence will be carried out
forth ‘

"Your honor, if I may," Becky called out,

descending from near the back of the gallery and moving toward the floor.
"I would speak first, before you pronounce your sentence."

The judge grimaced slightly. "My Lady Aurora, your

family and your person are highly esteemed in the city, but the courts are no
place for a woman to speak on legal matters."

"Oh, I do not dispute my slave's guilt or your

findings," she said dismissively, as she stood near Mark, but looked
around to the people present. Mark couldn't help but notice how beautiful she
was, even if she was just cosplaying as a Roman noble. "But I think
that this courtroom has suffered enough, if you will;”

Mark frowned. What was she going on about?

"As most of you know by now, this slave of mine is

useful for one thing," she announced. "His singular capacity
for fucking."

People gasped in astonishment at her words, but many women

who had attended the orgy nodded, Lady Pompeneia not least, even as she dabbed
at her eyes.

"And he has served me in that capacity devotedly,"

Becky declared, looking down and smiling at his cock rather longingly. She even
gave it an affectionate stroke, before coming back to herself, clearing her
throat and continuing. "His capacity and his devotion in that regard
were never in doubt!"

She turned and looked at him, her eyes almost accusing.

"But he has shown a singular spirit here today that he has never shown
while serving me," she said, her voice rife with bitterness. "Even
so restrained, he has doused at least two of Rome's vaunted guardians. One with
his cock alone!"

The crowd actually laughed at her statement, while the two

affronted legionaries scowled.

"Where was this derring-do and spirit when he served

me?" she demanded. "Why did I require the expense of personal
guards when he was capable of this? Had he no intention of defending me, his
mistress? Even though I gave him my body nightly, and shared him with others?"

Mark was baffled. What on earth was she going on about? He

stared at her in disbelief. Wasn't she on his side?

"Since he sees fit to display such a warrior spirit

when he has only himself to look after, then your Honor, I think Rome should
avail itself of his stallion valor, and not just his stallion cock! Your Honor,
let him serve Rome as entertainment in his final hours!"

The crowd cheered loudly at her words, and the judge nodded

solemnly.

"As you will, Lady Horatia," he said.

"And this we will proclaim, not least because of his affronts to you.
We declare the devil Bonosus damnitia ad gladium;”

The chip in his head translated the words and Mark's eyes

widened. Becky smirked and winked at him before wiggling off. He gaped at the
judge, who stared back at him coldly.

"See you in the Colosseum, boy;” the man said

coldly, as Mark was hauled off.

"What? That's it?" Mark said, scowling at

the small club he'd been given. "Don't I get a sword or one of those
forky things and a net?"

"Those're for gladiators, you piece of shit,"

grunted the pit master, who was standing with him in the small cell Mark was
confined in. He was a brutish and ugly man with only one eye, and he was
covered in scars from head to toe. "You're here to die, filth. You're
the one that fucked a Vestal and risked the goddess' wrath for all of Rome. No,
that club is a mere courtesy."

"Man, I must've royally fucked up if even this guy's

pissed at me," Mark thought, still scowling down at what was supposed
to be his weapon. He was pretty sure his hard-on was bigger. That, at least, had
thankfully gone away.

"When it's yer turn, you'll be taken up to the gates

and wait with the others," the pit master continued. "Once yer
outside, that's it, yer on yer own. How long you stave off death is up to you.
I don' care."

The man exited, locked his cage door and shuffled off,

barking orders at someone. He could hear men in other cells, calling for mercy,
begging to be let free. Mark just slumped against the wall and sighed, rubbing
his hands over his face. He no longer cared that he was once again grimy and
dirty. He didn't care much about anything, in fact.

Over his head, the crowd roared loudly, stamping their feet

and applauding. The whole ceiling shook slightly, and a fine haze of dust
floated down from above. He swallowed at the implications. He forgot how many
people the Colosseum was supposed to hold, but he knew it was similar to a lot
of modern sports stadiums.

How on earth was he supposed to defend himself against

trained pit fighters? He'd seen the movie 'Gladiator' countless times. All he
had was this damn club, after all. Mind, he wouldn't even be in this mess if
Becky hadn't given the judge the idea. What the Hell was she thinking? Wasn't
she supposed to be on his side, helping him find a way out;

Then Mark groaned and thunked his head back against the

wall. That's exactly what Becky was doing! The judge had been ready to
crucify him and set him on fire, all at once! Becky had convinced the man to
send him to Colosseum to be killed by gladiators or whatever. Mark was no doubt
the main attraction of the day, since everyone in the city hated him, and that
meant there were still several hours before he got thrown out in the arena.
Becky had bought them time.

God, he loved that girl!

He thought about that for a moment; he loved Becky, as in he

was extremely fond of her, and she was a very close and dear friend. But he was
no longer in love with her, as he had been at the orgy, when they were
both pumped so full of hormones from the tabs. He felt the way he normally did
about her.

Despite his situation, Mark smiled happily. Now all he had

to do was help her without somehow screwing things up. The chip in his head
seemed to be behaving again, so he was free of facial tics and uncontrollable
swearing in dead languages. Time travel and technology had a way of making
things difficult.

But they didn't have to;

"Well, am I a time traveler, or am I a time

traveler?" he said to himself cheerfully, realizing that just maybe he
wasn't as stuck as he thought. As long as he could make things happen from a
future time, he could possibly affect his chances of survival now, right?

Isn't that how he'd convinced Becky to not kill him when he

broke into her house to have sex with her all those months ago?

He had to be careful, though. He had no idea if he was fated

to live beyond today, or die here. There were no guarantees. Then again, if he
died today, he wasn't very likely to find anything from his future self, was
he?

He thought about how he would have tried to help himself.

When he'd been trying to seduce Becky, he'd compelled her to write a note to
her past self, convincing her that he was on the level. So maybe he'd leave
something for himself to use somehow? Where?

He was stuck in this stupid room for at least a few hours,

so maybe what he was looking for was in here. He got up and began scrounging
around, looking for either items out of place, or a cache where he might have
stowed them for himself.

So his future self, if he had been successful, had gone into

his current self's past by at least a few hours, and stashed something away for
him to use? Was that how it worked? And if he'd successfully done this, that
meant Mark wouldn't die today, right? There was just no guarantee of his
condition after today. For all he knew, he'd get run through with a sword and
somehow survive, but remain an invalid. Fuck that!

He noticed that he'd stopped searching, because he was

concentrating so hard on how the mechanics of this temporal bullshit worked. Ignore
it for now, back at it! Becky was so much better already at this time
stuff.

Please, please, please, let there be something;

To be continued in part 8. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts, for Literotica.

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