She reached into her wonderful bag, with its many compartments sealed by the strange brazen-toothed ‘zipper’ device invented by the mechanics of her nation, and pulled out a tiny membrane shaped like a hand—a glove of sorts—and stretched this over her elegant long-fingered hand. She then gave him a stern command as she applied a type of congealed oil to the glove from a tube that she squeezed like the tube that held the tooth-cleansing paste she employed to maintain her smile.
“My Dear, lie on your side, with knees bent and face the wall.”
Having become accustomed to obeying the woman who provided him with such comforts and served as daughter, student, lover and wife all-in-one—what a strange relationship this has become—he did as she instructed and lay like a fetus facing the shield-adorned headboard of the master’s bed, comfortably curled up like a baby on the great fleece blanket. She then placed a calming hand on his side and whispered, “Ari, I shall make this up to you later, please relax.”
“By the eyes of Apollo girl!”
The Athenians would have taken that profane outburst as an admission of guilt for certain.
Her hand was probing aggressively, in a searching manner into his bowel. He relaxed and the worst of the pain abated.
I cannot imagine what those wealthy Athenians find so enjoyable about coupling with boys.
Of course the boys do not enjoy it. The cruel fiends simply delight in causing this type of painful humiliation and supplication.
Her two longest fingers seemed to find something, some organ he did not know he had, behind his testes, and massaged it. This felt uncomfortably invasive, but did not hurt. He could appreciate by her manner that she was examining an organ. She then eased her hand out and declared, “Your prostate gland is slightly enlarged, but I detected no irregularities or growths.”
“My what gland?”
“My Dear, it is the gland that ejects the semen from your testes. The enlargement can be treated through dietary supplements and should be observed, but poses no immediate danger to your health. It does explain your frequent urination and diminished urine output.”
“Might we observe this organ infrequently?”
She was now chuckling and wiping him off. She then sat him up. She was disconcertingly strong; not an Amazon like her servant Selene, but as strong as he.
After all we are the same size and she some forty years my junior.
So she must someday leave you, old man, for a strong young man.
No she is a person of The Mind. She is attracted to me in her way, as a wise-man to be savored.
No fool, you are just the object of her order’s curiosity. They wish to bring you to their schools to lecture and disclose your discoveries. She is a companion by trade and will be off to seduce some other old fool once—if we ever escape Menander—she has delivered you to her masters.
Her voice was tender and searching and she whispered, “Ari, are you troubled?”
He looked toward the covered portico to the great room nervously. She picked up on his meaning and called to her manservant, “Sebastian, could you step outside please.”
When her manservant had removed himself she straddled him in her translucent shift and kissed him on the lips.
“Ari our information suggested that you should have become ill of a stomach complaint by Poseidon [December]. I feel confident that we have outmaneuvered Fate. Our scholars all agreed that you died either of a stomach illness or poison by the beginning of next year’s winter. Most stomach complaints are not sudden. Ulcers brought on by age and the stress of your exile would have already begun to bother you.
I know now that it was poison and that has been avoided. Thanks to Menander—as much of a brute as he is—the world thinks you lost. We need only make our way to Delphi, arrange for the enforcement of your inheritance stipulations, and disappear before those who would do you harm even know that you yet live. I’m so happy!”
She then hugged him and pushed him onto his back and followed him. “I want to make love now.”
If you have intercourse with her she could get with child. Besides, this is the last advantage you hold in this relationship. If she gets her last desire you are lost.
She has been a good companion. Indeed she could take the double flute prize at the Pythian contest with ease!
Than demand that she be a good companion again! You are a man, and married. Make her abide by the custom.
She was grinding her belly into his and kissing his neck when he finally took command of his companion. “Companion, satisfy me again, according to the custom, and forsake your needs. It is your lot. If you manage to free me from the Spartan beast and get me safely to Delphi, then, once beyond, we may be lovers.”
Yes, you still have that old domineering spark!
She kissed him and nodded ‘yes’ before sliding down to the base of the bed.
Now that is a good companion, and I remain faithful to, even if absent from, my poor worried wife.
Aristotle drifted off into a reverie about his time in Asia with Pythias as the fingers of his right hand caught in the curls of her red hair.
Young Alexander, you should have opted to live into old age. The conquests of the elderly might not be so grand, but they still occur.
You are not my wife you beautiful barbarian. I remain free of your seductive powers.
She then tapped his left hand with her long lyrical finger and hummed inaudibly.
She demands both hands from her master.
“Oh yes darling, whatever you say—is that acceptable?”
She answered him enthusiastically, and without a word.
You are lost old man, a slave even to her gestures.
