In preparation of the work to be completed some roundhouses were levelled and cleared with word that the Romans would build the Britons concrete houses of brick and stone. Great tents were erected in the meantime in which the Roman leaders and elite lived. Outside the settlement the vast army camped in their regulation patterns covering vast swathes of land with guards patrolling the living quarters inside. On the eighth day, after the celebrations, parades and a few days of hunting, Claudius left and started his journey home satisfied that his work was done taking his elephants with him. Almost immediately work began to transform the barbarian settlement into the islands first city.
Adminius breathed in as scented oils were rubbed onto his skin. They were blended with a mixture of spices and herbs from all over the empire; the current concoction was a spiced rose scent and mint. He was in one of the many luxury command tents now sited near the centre of what had been Camulodunum as it was transformed. After the lavish parades of Claudius’ triumph over the rebels, small on a scale to those in Rome, he had been given his own tent. As the King in waiting, his scheduled coronation the next day, he suddenly found his status had been elevated by the Romans, if not by his new subjects.
He lay naked face down on a raised bed enjoying the touch of Asiria, a sign of things to come he thought, as she massaged his shoulders and upper back. Tomorrow he would be crowned King and rightfully take up his place as the leader of the Catuvellauni. Claudius had also taken the surrender of other Kings and leaders, lesser Kings obviously than he would become and the people would see that it was he who now ruled the province of Britannia on behalf of the great Roman Empire. He knew he would face hostility from a minority but didn’t care, he had achieved his aim his ambition and that was all that mattered, they would grow to respect him one way or another.
Client King in waiting he maybe but he reasoned it was better to be a client than a vagabond on the run, with no shelter, food or military force to defend him as he imagined his brother to be. Asiria motioned for him to turn over and he moved onto his back. He looked up at her features and dark skin. She spoke with heavy accented Latin and had come from a land called Parthia far to the east many weeks ride away. She was beautiful and he drank in her body with his eyes enjoying her hands as they caressed his skin. She wore her native clothes that showed her virtually flat stomach and it stirred something primeval inside him.
When he had first been introduced to her by one of the Praetorian Centurions he couldn’t believe his good fortune. She was to be his body slave from that point on, her life his to do with as he wished. She would ensure his bath was ready at the end of a hard day dealing with disputes and land issues concerning his people, she would massage, oil and scent his body and she would provide anything further he required. He had heard of body slaves when he was in Rome but had never expected to have one himself. It was no doubt a benefit of him now being a part of the upper class, a true nobleman. The nearest he had come to experiencing someone like her before was when visiting the many brothels of Rome.
It had always been his ambition above his brothers to rule but not as they had in their limited way. Whilst they were content to hunt and share their time with locals, he had studied. When he had learned all he could about his tribe and their customs and of those around them, he had sought new subjects and places and where better than Rome. His father had allowed him to travel to the great Capital aged just eight where he had seen things he would never have dreamed of before.
From an early age he had studied in their great libraries and read their scrolls and learned Latin unlike either Togodumnus or Caratacus giving him an advantage. So safe and comfortable was the young man in his new surroundings that he had stayed for five years, returning home aged thirteen to a land that had not grown or progressed since his departure. He had made friends in the world’s largest capital and he was now reaping the rewards of his earliest ambitions. He groaned as his new acquisition rubbed his lower stomach and Asiria giggled quietly.
“I’m sorry master,” she began, “I didn’t mean to arouse you.”
She looked down and saw that he was growing hard with pleasure as her hands moved lower still, she smiled. He had experienced many massages in Rome while in exile and knew that the slaves who performed them would do all they could to help their clients to relax. None however shared the beauty of this young woman taken by her homelands victor and chosen to be a body slave.
She turned and picked up the small oil bottle and poured a few drops onto his stiffening shaft. Rubbing it gently he groaned feeling her hands and the heat they generated together with the oils. You fool Adminius he thought to himself smiling more as Asiria parted his legs slightly and gently massaged his aching balls. Just when he thought it couldn’t feel any better she took his taught manhood in her hand and carefully gripped the shaft. He looked into her dark eyes and saw they were intrigued by his swollen member. Slowly at first she let her hand move up and down his shaft hearing him groan with pleasure. He arched his back closing his eyes as the tingling sensation within him grew and her hand moved faster, the oils reacting and warming, her other hand gently rubbing his balls.
“Taste it.” He instructed and she bent over him without hesitating and took his hardness into her mouth, her lips warm and soft. She moved along the length of his aching penis expertly, she clearly knew what she was doing. He knew he wouldn’t last long as her hands and mouth worked their magic. All the stress of the last few days and weeks were forgotten, nothing else mattered except this moment in time. He was right about his longevity and with a loud sigh he let go and almost as quickly fell back onto the bed sighing and smiling.
She smiled back down at him and asked, “Was that correct master?”
He lay back laughing, his shoulders shaking, “Yes Asiria you did very well, very well indeed. I think we will make great friends you and I.”
She asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you my lord?”
He smiled back totally relaxed. “Asiria you could do anything you wanted to do to me but for now I think I should get some sleep. I’ve got a very busy day ahead of me tomorrow but during the night we can have some more time together and I will help you relax.” He touched her between the legs and she giggled.
Turning she gave him a towel as he sat up and then walked to the door of the tent of his sleeping apartment. It may be a temporary structure but it was walled and covered with dyed animal skins it was far more luxurious than anything the locals had seen before. Coloured fresco’s even covered the walls interior here and there just as he had seen in the great buildings of their city. Lighted with candles on iron stands, warmed with a wood burner and guarded from the outside, he smiled hardly able to believe his good luck.
He considered what his own capital should look like. It would have to be something as imposing as the buildings he had lived in whilst in Rome but bigger. Great columns would greet visitors at the front, whilst huge corridors would welcome them inside. He would commission the best fresco artists to decorate the walls and would invite Senators from all over the Empire to witness the magnificence of the new province.
He had no regrets, well maybe one he mused, that he hadn’t gone to Rome and begged Claudius to help him take the crown earlier. Whilst his backward family would have lived in mud huts for an eternity, he had realised his vision and now he could begin work on bringing civilisation to the country of his birth. He could barely wait for the day to dawn in the morning and to see the faces of the people, his people. He would win them over he was sure and if he couldn’t they would rue the day they opposed him.