A gay story: The Camp Tramp Donatus was relieved when the big man finished off. He pulled out of Donatus’ sore mouth, and shook his dick, then moved off. Donatus was given a short time to catch his breath and stretch his lean frame some. Then the next man came up, stuck his hard throbbing cock in front of Donatus’ mouth, and grabbed his mane of dark curls with a calloused, grimy hand, pressing head to cock, and thrusting into Donatus opened mouth. Donatus gamely went with it – this one truly liked to face-fuck – and was again relieved at the speed of his orgasm. Another creamy load filled Donatus’ mouth, yet he swallowed it willingly.
As a camp sex-slave with Spartacus’ troops, he was relatively free to move about. Since he was a minor relative of a hated Praetor, one who even now pursued the men, he got less than ideal treatment. After that day they caught him carrying on with a young Gaul in the woods near his home village, he was treated harshly. Spartacus himself had to intervene to save the youth’s life. The young man had to leave his family in the nearby town, and travel with Spartacus’ group as a sex slave. In return, he would get good treatment, time off, even payment from the group’s plunder. But he had to stay with the group for a year. That agreement was reached with Spartacus himself, and no one disputed it.
Since Donatus got all the cock he wanted, and most of it from well-muscled men in good condition, he could hardly complain. Aside from comments like, “Ho – there travels the camp whore” and so forth, he was content. The few men who stank and were rough were endurable, especially when he got one that would take him gently from behind, and make it an act of love rather than just forceful release. Donatus was sated, and mostly, happily so.
Donatus took some deep breaths after the last man finished, and wiped the white dribble from his chin. He stood, and stretched, extending his slender arms up and away from his 5-foot-tall body. The men had moved off to take pisses or eat, so he was alone for a time, able to relax. Then, he heard footfalls. Who but Spartacus himself was strolling up to him.
“Ho, Donatus. How fare you now?”
“A bit tired now, Spartacus, gratitude for asking.”
“Creitus and I desire your special company later this evening. Think you will be up for it?”
“Of course. For you, anytime. Right now I desire some food and rest; the better to be prepared for your company later,” said Donatus, with head slightly bowed. He stood covered only with a loincloth, his flat, tanned chest streaked with dirt from the recent activities. Spartacus walked over to him, and groped the loincloth and package underneath.
“Good, glad to hear it. Get yourself rested and clean, then, sexy Donatus. I shall look forward to your ministrations.” Spartacus gave him a smile and a wink, then strode off.
Donatus felt a blending of emotions. He enjoyed Spartacus and Creitus together, relishing being in the middle of a hot sandwich. But when Spartacus said ‘Ministrations’ that meant that the men wanted a massage first. Thus, Donatus would have to give them both a massage for their tired sword arms and all – and only then be able to enjoy sex with them. It would be work as well as pleasure. Debating between sleep and food, Donatus’ eyes soon felt heavy. He moved off into the woods, and found a suitable mossy area, then dropped off to sleep.
As the sun dropped down below the horizon, a wandering gladiator stumbled upon a human leg in the forest – and Donatus awoke with a start.
“Ho, if it isn’t the whore. Say, my cock is a twitching. How about you take care of it?” barked the man with a laugh. He was a tall germanic type, and began waving a short, fat cock right in Donatus’ face.
Donatus sat up, still groggy. “Well, uh, ok. Bring it over.” And he set to,managing to suck the man off after several minutes. And then he remembered. Spartacus! And here it was dark already. The man grunted his thanks and moved off. Donatus hurried to a stream, and washed himself as best he could. Then he had a drink. Finding a supply of bread and fruit, he quickly grabbed some bites of each. He managed to get several mouthfuls down, before being accosted by two men from the camp.
“Hey, whore. What are you doing eating so much?” said the first man, a burly, hairy iberian.
A second, more slender but no more clean than the first, guffawed, then said, “She’ll pay twice the price now, eh?”
The two men cuffed Donatus mildly on the chest, and slapped his ass. He had to grin and bare it – these men could easily dispatch him to the underworld if they wanted.
“Bend over, whore,” grunted one. He pushed Donatus roughly to a kneeling stance, then he spread his asscheeks. The other positioned himself in front of Donatus’ mouth. Donatus finally protested,
“Please wait! Spartacus and Creitus have me saved for this night.”
“You are lying are you? Tell us the truth,” said the Iberian.
The man slapped Donatus in the face. Right then, Spartacus came striding up, and yelled,
“Enough! You will treat this man with respect. I have chosen him for tonight.”
Then, Spartacus extended his hand, and said, “You may rise, Donatus, and come with me now.”
Donatus thought to himself, he would have been willing to perform for the men – they were the camp cooks – but it would have been a heavy chore. Spartacus saved him from and ordeal, and he gratefully looked forward to pleasuring the two leaders.
Spartacus glared at the two interlopers, who bowed their heads in apology. He then led Donatus by the hand to a bona fide tent, replete with silks and coverlets on the ground. Donatus was pleased, and quickly lay down in a suggestive pose. Creitus cleared his throat from the other side of the tent – about ten by twenty feet – and spoke.
“The Ministrations come first, sexy Donatus. But it shall indeed be a relief,” he said, and smiled.
“One shared by both,” said Spartacus, smiling.
“By all three,” said Donatus. His cock was already tenting the loincloth, he was so turned on. he feared the massage would take forever.
Creitus moved over and squatted next to Donatus. He leaned over and rubbed his black hair, and said,
“Just do our shoulders some. We can’t wait to fuck you, either.”
So Creitus lay on his stomach, and Donatus reached for a small flask of oil, then proceeded to give Creitus’s back and shoulders a massage. Creitus soon rose, and Spartacus took his place. As Donatus was kneeling over Spartacus, finishing his rubdown, Creitus took the oil, and began rubbing Donatus’ puckering rear with it. Donatus moaned with pleasure. Spartacus recognized that sound, and quickly flipped himself over. He pulled Donatus down on top of him, and kissed him fiercly. At the same time, Creitus plunged an oily finger deep into Donatus’ ass. More fingers followed, as Donatus and Spartacus body-rubbed and kissed.
The two horny gladiators then turned Donatus over on his side, and Creitus plunged his throbbing cock deep into his ass, while Spartacus shoved a hard dick deep in and out of Donatus’ hungry mouth. He yanked off the loincloth and took Donatus twitching cock all in, deep-throating him. For a time, all that could be heard was moaning and kissing and smacking and fucking.
When the men were finally spent, they lay together, Donatus in the middle, and Spartacus, Creitus well-muscled arms still groping his soft cock and pecs. The lay there, and kissed each other lightly from time to time. They all knew time was short. Soon, the two gladiators would be hacking and killing Roman soldiers, and trying not to be killed in the process. And Donatus would be waiting in the woods, fearful. Fearful that his two beloved caretakers, lovers both, would not return. Right at that moment, he knew why he endured the insults and rough treatment by some of the other men. And to him it was well worth it!
The end