Tessellations(A Byzantine Story) Chapter 25 By-Zane Hunter-Green
This fictional work is dedicated to Ganymede. Various chapters contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The author retains copyright and this story can not be placed at a pay site. If it is illegal at your place of residence, or you are underage or these stories where intergenerational sex is part of the subject offends you do not read...zanehuntergreen@excite.com
Saffron stood motionless his arms lifting up, making his lithe body appear as if he could fly away, and his groin pushed outward as he bent in a slight S curve, inviting the eye to look down and examine the beauty of his maleness, as he looked at a point above him. This was the position Cerinatto placed him in that first morning as the man lifted his arms, with his fingers firmly pressing into his armpits and spread out his legs as if he was a bendable octopus. Cerinatto had searched for a poise that was both celestial, and sensual.
The boy watched the Artist working in the damp white clay from the corner of his eye. It amused him to see how aroused the man was. The man's hard on, strained his short tunic. Whether it was from studying him or the feel of moist organic clay Saffron didn't know, but it never the less it fascinated him. There was something endlessly powerful and commanding about a man's erect cock.
The thought of licking and kissing one, especially one in particular brought him back from the stupor that standing idly caused. It was much harder work to model than he anticipated when he agreed to do it. It was endlessly boring to stand still, and the scratch on his nose became torture.
Most of the time he daydreamed as he stood straining his body, his mind in idleness. He knew that this time of year he would have been frozen stiff if he stood in France, naked. The weather was much warmer in Byzantine. Mostly he thought about Dominic. He wondered if he concentrated hard enough he could actually travel to where he was.
He had a question he needed the answer to. "Sir, How long will I have to model for you, I mean could you use the clay figures to make the sculpture from if you had to."
"You're not planning to leave me, my sweet angel?"
"No, of course not" Ron uttered, not sure if he liked being called a sweet angel by the artist. "What if something happened to me, and I had to stop doing this."
"That would be a tragedy I do not even wish to think about! However to rest your mind, yes I could work from drawings and these studies if I had to."
"Good, because if I got sick or something I wouldn't want you to have wasted your time."
"You are a thoughtful boy, Okay my delight, Hush now...I am going to go back to work, and I'm on your luscious lips...part them slightly...and try not to say a word.
Just then the door to the studio opened Ron felt his skin rise in a rash of Goosebumps, but he challenged himself not to move, as he continued to pose in the almost unbearable position, he was already uneasy, however he was sure the intruder had to be a servant or perhaps Father Benedict. He was promised that he would have privacy. He had been promised that the doors would be bolted when he was there.
He heard a slight gasp; Cerinatto stopped working to talk with the stranger. Ron turned is head. He was shocked. A well-dressed man was assessing him with bold eyes.
There was something about this man that made Ron extremely uneasy. He almost thought he should know him. He wasn't going to stand there for the man's entertainment, whoever he was. He jumped off the silk covered platform he had been standing on and excused himself in pretense that he had to take piss. He bent down to pick up a small fragment of stone from the pink rock that Cerinatto had started to shape when he wasn't with him. Let the men know he had something to throw if they dared touch him as he made his way past them to the door. He was so perturbed that he had forgotten that he was unclad.
"Ron...Ron" A friendly voice, it called out his name with kindness. This voice almost had a man's resonance. He froze, the pink fragment of rock that was clutched in his hand, pressing into his palm as he wondered if he should answer. Well it would be worse if he hid in the bushes, as if he was caught with a lover. He had nothing to hide, he looked down at his penis which was still small even erect, well not much to hide anyway.
"Ron...ah what have you been doing?"
It was his friend, Falkon, standing with his mouth gapping open.
Ron didn't know if he should try to cover himself, but it wasn't as if most of the boys had not seen each other in some state of undress
"I guess you want to know why I'm not wearing my tunic. Maybe the entire world knows by now"
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me, I'm not spying on you or anything...I just wanted to tell you that I got a message from my mother said it is fine for you to come home with me."
"That is kind! Look you have a wrap, can I borrow it until we get to the main house I've been modeling for an artist, but I'm finished!"
"Lucky artist! So that is that where you go all the time Ron, the sculpture must be enchanting! Can I see it sometime?"
"Well...perhaps...but the artist hasn't started to carve it yet, he's still using clay. Look I don't think I care to see the artist again, he is very good, and I thought I could buy it when it was finished, and give it to... to a friend but the artist lied to me, and"...Ron held back his tears, and I don't know if I'll ever see my friend again."
Ron was embarrassed as Falkon hugged him. It was warm and chaste, and caring, and it made him feel better. He had forgotten all about going into Constantinople with Falkon.
Falkon unpinned his bronze fibula and took off his wrap, and gave it to Ron who covered himself as if it was an antique toga. "Thanks..." he whispered.
"Ron, I get the feeling that you had a really rough time...I mean before you came here. I want to be your friend, what can I do?"
"I don't know, I guess there's nothing anyone can do to help me."
They were walking towards a grove where a marble bench sat hidden from the buildings. Ron and Falkon sat down, and Ron found himself telling his sympathetic friend everything that had happened to him from before he left France until now.
"I feel so bad Ron, Dominic shouldn't have brought you here. I guess he didn't know."
"Know what Falkon?"
"The patron of this school is your cousin, Leo. I haven't seen him, but there are rumors that he selects boys from here to be members of his household after they complete their studies."
"What do you think I should do?"
"I don't know, but he must know about you being at the school. I bet they won't let you go home with me. They'll find some excuse why you have to stay."
"Do you think we can escape now. I mean I don't want to get you into trouble, but what if I'm trapped here. If I ask for a leave I have to tell them where I intend to go, and if they say "No", that is a lot worst than leaving now pretending that I was ignorant that I might be breaking a rule."
" Maybe that's a good idea. We can pack, and leave now if you wish."
"But...you might not be able to come back. Maybe I should just run away myself."
"Where will you go? If you return to your father, won't your step-mother make sure they send you back here, or to your cousins?"
"Most likely, I was led to believe that they think I'm dead, but they could have known all along that they were taking me away from Dominic. Let's see who can outsmart whom, but I don't want you to be punished. What if they expel you from here, or worse"
"I don't care if I never return. But I have an idea...I'll give you the directions to my house and a letter explaining to my mother who you are, and that I'll be arriving a few days later. That way they may not suspect where you went. It will give me a chance to see if they start to hunt you down or not. Maybe they don't know you're here after all. It's not like your cousin runs this place. Or better yet...I have a friend that I trust. I'll send you to him. Let's see...I'll tell him that you are visiting until I arrive. He is a bit crazy, and loves to have fun, so he'll take you everywhere, but if you dress and act like him, they'll think you're just another bored youth."
"Would your friend agree to this?"
"Yes, it will take you several hours to get to Constantinople, but if you leave now and follow the directions you can get to him by this afternoon. I will see you there in a few days. I don't think you should chance going back to the house. You wait here and I'll go get you some clothes and money, and write the letter to give my friend, with directions to his home."
Ron nodded. He had to trust someone.
Falkon ran back to the house, stopping to take a sack from the kitchen. The dorm was empty, so he was able to take a few of Ron's clothes and stuff it in the bag.
Rotund crashed into the room. "What do you think you're doing!"
"Nothing."
Rotund snapped up the bag, and dumped the clothes from it. "These belong to the new boy. What do you want with them."
Falkon reddened.
"I get it, you're planning to hump his clothes. Rotund took out his under drawers and inhaled, hummm he has a nice smell, well these are mine, you can have the rest"
"You're not telling?"
"Call it a favor, you owe me one. I'm taking this outside but next time I expect to have the new boy in them." Rotund balled the raw silk garment and left. Falkon sighed with relief as he quickly penned his letter using ink he smuggled from downstairs on a piece of parchment, and placing some coins in the sack. He noticed that Ron had an unusual gold necklace. He put that in as well. No one else interrupted him as he made his way back to Ron. Ron borrowed Falkon's outer tunic, which sagged, on him hiding his lithe frame. He looked at the directions. They seemed easy enough, until he got into the city. Then he could pay a boy to guide him to Falkon's friend.
"He was ready to give Falkon a kiss on the cheek for doing this to help him, but decided to miss the mark and aim for the lips instead. As Falkon blushed Ron thought how nice it was to have a real friend. He waved to this friend that he hoped to see again in a few days, and went to the outer wall. He slung the sack on his shoulder, and climbed over...
Hours later he wasn't sure if he was facing a boy or an imp. This friend of Falkons had brown hair that kept falling into his earth-colored eyes. "What do you mean you've never been to the races, or to a whore-house or anything. What kind of boy are you? Don't answer your one of Falkon's friends. They all have their heads in the clouds. It's remarkable you got here on your own. Well come on, you can't be tired, we're going out."
Ron had enough time to drink some well water, drop his bag in the common room of Tibilar's narrow house, and they were off.
"The races started hours ago, so are you a blue or a green?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know, I don't guess it matters. Tib grabbed his hand and the two boys started to run to the hippodrome, which loomed up ahead like a man-made mountain. As they got closer there were mobs of people. The noise alone made it made Ron queasy.
Tib navigated through the crowds and once inside they climbed until they found two seats they could squeeze into.
Tib purchased a flask of wine from a vendor hawking his way amid the upper levels, which he shared with Ron
Cheap wine...speeding horses...
Ron started to yell along with the crowds, his voice like a flute among the drums.
Several older men siting beside them seemed to enjoy looking at the two comely youth more than the horses. Reminded of their own buoyant youth they added to the boys quest in getting drunk by sharing more wine, and betting tips, and finally buying racing marks for the boys. Some of the marks that the men purchased for them had the winning horse or chariot from several races.
Tib and Ron cashed their chips, and flush with silver they hightailed it to the bazaar to buy grilled lamb and sugared bread.
Ron's head was spinning from the combination of wine and exhaustion. He almost agreed when Tib said "Hey Ron you won some bets now it's time to lose something... like your virginity, I know where the best whore house is, they have the most splendid girls. Ron laughed as he shook his head. "Oh, its boys then. Well I know where they are too."
Ron was brought back to reality. He had no desire to see one of these places after Dominic told him what they were like. "I'd rather screw your haughty ass." He teased.
Tib looked at him differently. "You're not a virgin then Ron?"
"No, are you?"
"I'm an ass virgin."
"Well, I'm not talking." Ron replied.
"You're cute, I'd fuck you if you want, but you're not going to do it to me." Tib stated.
"Good, cause I have a boyfriend, and I'm not looking for another."
"Who?...Not Falkon?
"Why not Falkon, if I liked boys I would like him a lot, but actually I'm in love with a man."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know." Ron answered somberly. It was as if the last spark of joy had departed and Ron felt like he was going to throw-up.
"Look, I'm sorry. Let's go home." Tib announced. "Here's my coins, I no longer feel like spending them even if I could have had the most beautiful courtesan in the city tonight"
"Being with someone you're in love with makes the entire outside world beautiful, not just the person you have sex with ." Ron told him.
...
Meanwhile Leo looked at the sketch his agent had brought him. "Look at that pose, this angel boy is pure erotica, he resembles the departed Saffron doesn't he. I've got to have him. If I can't have Saffron he is second best. We will ride to the school tomorrow so I can see this little enchanter with my own eyes."
The Agent nodded his head. He had never seen the boy that had his Lord and Master mopping around since word of his death had arrived months back, but knowing his Master's taste in boys he knew this one would be special.