35 Results with the "LGBT+" genre (LGB)
-
Chapter
XIV – The Month of Honey – I
The Bucarati kips upon glossy mudflats. The vessel resembles a timber beetle with its tightly bound sales and dangling oars. It slumbers as men till the wet sands beneath its rudder, digging that will ensure the incoming tide washes her away. Alps-born legionaries crowd her surface planks. They wear fur over their shoulders and wool on their extremities. None are clean-shaven, not even their newly minted leader, Lucius Scipio Servius, whose beard shines golden like the short coils on his head. His…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
XIII – The Ancalite Wedding
Lucius Vitus Servius once said that rivalry within ranks festers like flesh rot, and if a general ignores it, he’ll lose a man as quickly as a leg. Julius recalls his old friend’s observation as he watches the murdered man’s son glower at Kombius, a prince of the continental Atrebates. The more concerning bit of flesh rot, however, is Titus Labienus, who listens with jowls tight in resentment as the noble speaks of his time as an Ancalite prisoner. Before their first campaign on the island,…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
XII – The Graticule
Bloody waters run deep where the Stour meets the Lug. Two rafts enter the pink foaming shallows, cutting through loose intestines that wobble from the pecking of hungry fish. Slimy crimson sand sucks at the druid’s feet, but what awaits him beyond the reeds proves his discomfort worth it. Here, flies scatter like black rain and reveal a dining table made of human bones. Half-skulls sit upon its gruesome ribcage, each ghoulish bowl heavy with a stew of eyes, ovaries, and testicles. Cut tongues and…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
XI – The Tamesa Encounter
Roman horses smell more of their kind across the river as tension hangs heavily and tightens their nerves. A durable palisade guards the opposite bank, with an elderly man favoring his staff on a rampart behind it. Wind lashes at his long white hair, revealing facial cracks that prove him the oldest man on this island. “This is as far as you go, Rome!” cries Ostin the Ageless, his grasp of Latin impressive. “I do have an offer for you if you’re willing to entertain it,” Caesar, the Roman battle…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
X – The Price of Pain
One calculates the measure of a citizen by grading his empathy, benevolence, and financial worth. One measures a soldier’s value by the skill of his kills, his labor, and years in service. Sadly, no rubric exists for a citizen who is also a soldier. Planus ruminates on such things in the shadow of Skipio’s recent brutality, all the while haunted by memories of rescuing him from the sea. That day, Caesar, his leader and cousin, sent Planus on a routine inspection of the merchant ships harvesting chalk…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
IX – The Slaughter Arena
This violent summer is the hottest in memory. A pretty Roman takes the time to cover the dead farmer and her children while his brothers hack away at her barley field. Aedan the Owl squats on the highest branch, his foot rising to scratch the itch behind his ear with a toe. He sees Bitch Face, whose rage over a slaughtered lover burns hot, and smiles, a rare show of emotion that unsettles his cadre on the forest floor. The leader of this Roman harvest, known on the wind as Gaius Trebonius, grows…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
VIII
Here lies the beauty from the falls, the lion from his vision. His Roman captive burns hot when he sleeps, never waking no matter how indelicate the druid’s touch. Aedan’s thumb pushes at an eyelid and reveals a lily pad floating in the white, its dark center growing with exposure. Smooth skin stinks of cooking fire and soft nipples taste of roasted rabbit. He sits, relishing how that muscular gut feels against his bare crack. Cock in hand, he grazes the tip over the Roman’s swollen bottom…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
VII
Vibrant tunics litter the grasslands, their owners hacking away at the forest. Another group surrounds them, collecting newly cut trees and rolling them over a ribbed assembly of smaller logs. Workhorses form lines at the roping station, their twitchy legs eager to haul fresh timber to the carpenters near shore. Nothing matches the hardness of a tree against one’s ass when a climax comes. Britannia’s narrow forests make Skipio long for the thick oaks of home, ageless alpine giants with massive ground…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
VI
Father’s owl mask watches from the muddy shore, its top trim black from battle fire. His snowy war prize approaches for a drink and takes her fill before retreating to the grassy bank, where waterlogged cornflowers await her hunger. Falling rain stings his shoulders, a necessary hurt that washes away his warpaint. He drops his bare ass into the pebbled rivulet and spreads his spindly legs. Within the V bobs his pliable manhood as rushing waters flush clean his foreskin. Aedan rises to his feet, sopping…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
V
Skipio leads his scouts ahead of the legions until the roar of wind-swept trees overcomes the drum of infantry boots. Night marches are perilous without a torch or stars. It is lonely work, and anxiety consumes the hours. No one speaks, not even to their horse. A reedy marsh confronts their small procession, its insects and amphibians cavorting so wildly that they drown out the men’s thundering hearts. Somewhere within the swaying bobtails lies water, yet entering foreign wetlands invites death. Actus…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
-
- Previous 1 2 3 4 Next
