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Title: Roman Matron
Keywords: mF, teen, inc, mom, son
Author: Caesar
"A queen of old Egypt, named Cleo
Conducted her loving 'con brio.'
She felt quite at home in
The arms of one Roman
But preferred to be part of a trio."
-author unknown

Caesar's favourite short story, the wife of a powerful Roman senator
seduces her son to kill him. Probably the only non-erotic story he

#include "std_disclaimer.h"

All characters are fictional and a figment <g> of my over-active
imagination. Constructive e-mail is welcome.

Roman Matron

by Caesar, copyright (c) 1990-2002

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

Flavius Maximitus, the only free-born son to Flavus Maximitus and his
wife Lucina, stood naked against the cold granite wall. His body
shone with sweat and oil that reflected the moonlight shining through
the open-roofed *peristyle*, a pleasant little garden in the middle of
his family's house. In his hand gleamed a *drusus*, a fine crafted
short sword. It quivered in the dull light, as did the toned small
body. The boy was not cold, even in the chilly evening, but scared,
and nervous.

Next to him, a dark doorway with a large finely-crafted wooden door -
his parents' *cubicula*, their bedroom. He stood leaning against the
smooth wall for several long minutes, waiting. His bronze-coloured
body rippled whenever he shook with fear, his short black hair
flattened against his head with grease. His mind wandered over what
was to be done this evening, and the promised reward at the end. He
worried about the slaves and servants in the house, and even though
they had been taken care of, nothing must be left to chance.

The silent movement of the large door startled him, and gave his heart
a rush. It was time!

The door opened only a few inches then stopped, just as planned. An
adrenaline rush flowed through his body, giving him determination and
strength to finish his task. He moved upon silent bare feet, grabbing
the door in his free hand.

As he slowly opened the door, the inner room was bathed in yellow
light from a small candle next to the large lavish bed. Flavius
paused only for a second as he looked upon his father's sleeping body.
The thin embroidered blanket could not hide the obesity of his father - it sickened him. Without closing the door, he walked slowly and
carefully towards the slumbering form, not taking his eyes off the
face of his father. In seconds he stood over the large bloated form,
staring into the face that gave him life. He ignored a movement over
his shoulder.

The ex-senator lay in troubled sleep, sometimes kicking out with his
feet, other times his hands. He was trying to stop the demons of his
sleep taking away everything his family had worked the last two
hundred years for. But suddenly in his dream, he was attacked from
behind, from the people whom he expected to be loyal...

Flavius jumped as he saw his father's eyes open suddenly, "What...what
are you doing, boy..." The deep voice boomed out threateningly - the
voice of a man who is used to being obeyed.

The fat man started to rise. Suddenly, Flavius saw all the years of
his life; the beatings, the shouting, being treated like a dog by his
own father. So he moved faster than he ever moved before, the
adrenaline flowing through his veins giving him new found strength.

The *drusus* came around in an arc; it landed straight down upon his
father's lower face. The blade struck the fat man's jaw, breaking the
jawbone and causing the loss of several teeth while cleaving through
the meaty chin. Dazed by the shock, Flavus fell back onto the bed,
unable to do anything except raise an arm in defiance.

Very little sound was heard in the dimly-lit *cubicula*. But a gurgle
escaped from the ruptured mouth of Flavus. The next swing followed
soon after the first and came down upon the out- stretched hand,
cleaving off three fingers and most of the palm. The bloody and
mangled stump pumped blood into the very eyes of the unarmed man, his
eyes wide with horror.

An uncontrollable blood-lust took over the boy as he drew his blade up
again. For a brief second he saw into his father's pain- filled eyes,
saw the blood splattered upon the fat cheeks, and the pool of redness
over the man's chest. The helplessness of the older man enraged
Flavius; this man was not worthy enough to call himself his father.
The boy reached out with his free hand to grab and push away the
outstretched, maimed hand. With the other, he swung down with the
sharp blade, biting into the exposed neck. The shiny blade bit deep
into the fat, exposing most of the muscle and veins of the butchered
neck. The severed carotid artery drenched both males in a fountain of

The fat of the old man had kept him alive this long, but the boy swung
again and again, cleaving the head from the now-still body, always
aiming for the face and neck. Only when the boy ran out of strength
did he stop swinging.

Flavius dropped the *drusus* upon the bed and fell to his knees.
Blood was everywhere, upon the bed, on the boy's body, and even upon
the walls and floor. He stared at the fat butchered body laying on
the bed, trying to picture that hunk of meat as his father, but he

A fine small hand lay gently upon his slippery shoulder.

Lucina squeezed her son's upper arm trying to calm him, since he was
breathing fast and deeply while his body was quivering rapidly. She
finally drew him off the floor and over to a couch, where he lay upon
his back.

The boy stared at his mother, not recognizing her at first, as she
wiped his face clean with a sponge. As recognition returned, he
stared at her untimely beauty, seeing the blood- soiled white toga
haphazardly thrown over her shoulder, allowing a breast to be exposed.
Her long black hair cascaded over her face and down her back. The
whiteness of her skin tantalized him, called out to him. He brought a
blood-soaked hand up to her exposed breast, cupping the round flesh in
his young strong hand. Flavius loved her more than ever before!

At the first touch of his hand she stopped cleaning him and smiled
into his eyes. "You are the new Lord of this family, my son. What
would be your first act?" She held her breath and waited for him.

As an answer, he lifted himself onto his elbow, pressing his lips
against her round soft blood-smeared nipple, sucking. Like the lions
of the Arena, after a kill he felt a driving passion deep inside his
loins. Also this was the prize that his mother had promised, a prize
that he would do anything for, even kill his own father.

Lucina's hand gently pressed her son's head to her bosom, revelling in
the feel of his young warm lips upon her sensitive breast. Her free
hand pushed the toga off her shoulder, exposing herself from the waist

"Come then, my Lord, we have until dawn to love each other!"

In the large elaborate *cubicula*, upon the couch in the corner, two
naked bodies gleamed and moved in the faint light, one a youth of
thirteen, the other a woman of thirty. Soft sounds of passion echoed
throughout the marble room, voices begged, skin slapped. The sweet
smell of blood and sweat was in the air, yet neither noticed or cared.
Nor did either notice the dried blood or thick oil caked to the
youth's body. Both were lost in the other.

Only when the youth was spent, his chest heaving for breath, did he
fully realize what had transpired. His mother lay over him, her knees
straddling his hips, her sex still engulfing his. He looked in horror
at the still bed, then into his mother's open eyes. Full
comprehension came upon him. Lucina narrowed her eyes slightly and she
sat up over his body.

Her hand quickly descended towards him. Flavius only saw a gleam of
metal before the bone handled stiletto hit. The blade bit deep into
the forehead, shattering the young man's skull, forcing the thin metal
to enter into his brain.

Flavius's death was instantaneous.




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