Time Rider Ch. 05

"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 being 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-fours 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 dick. 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 disfavour, and such charges warrant only the ultimate of punishments, your honour!" 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 Honour, 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 dick, 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 favour 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, y'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 pussy 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 stable 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 honour, 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 down 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 Honour, I think Rome should avail itself of his stallion valour, and not just his stallion cock! Your Honour, 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.