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And so it did, with one experienced thrust his generously sized cock and bulbous head forced its way past the saliva laden ring and up my arse causing me to rear up in response.

“Aaaaaargh! That hurts!” I yowled.

Elliott made no response except to place a hand over my mouth effectively gagging me, pulled my head back and growled lustfully in my ear. All the time he was thrusting his cock in and pulling almost completely out but not quite before driving in again – just how I like it. Before long I had forgotten all about the momentary discomfort and was totally absorbed in the sensations emanating from my hole. On and on he thrust until with one almighty push he shot his load deep into my bowls and then collapsed on to me. God it felt good! So much so that my cock was twitching in response and I shot my load too, making a sticky mess between me and the sheet.

I lay there quietly, feeling the weight of Elliott’s body as it recovered from its exertions, while all the time his cock was still impaling my anus refusing to subside. He started to playfully nip my shoulders with his teeth, signalling to me that he was ready to start again. Being the slut I am I responded by raising my bum a little indicated my consent and without further encouragement he pushed his cock inside me as far as it would go and started humping me all over again but this time at a more leisurely pace.

Much later on and after several more loads of spunk had been deposited within me we finally fell asleep from exhaustion, which I would come to regret as the mess we had made was distinctly less appealing in the bright light of the morning sun.......

Chapter 3: 2nd Regression Therapy Session

It’s Saturday evening again and once more I am pacing around our living room like a caged animal, not quite as anxious as I was the first time but not far off. Elliott as ever is unflappable (but then he’s not the one in the hot seat) and continues to watch the Sky Sports channel seemingly fascinated by hot sweaty rugby players grunting and shoving around in mud with muscles straining to rip open their shorts. I would have been there by his side if I hadn’t been so keyed up waiting for Michael’s arrival.

Ten minutes later and there’s a ring on the bell, I open the door to see the cheerful smiling face of our guest and his customary stretched out hand ready to shake mine.

“Hi there Sean, how are you? Are you going to let me in or are we standing here on ceremony?” He quipped.

“Sorry, do come in. I’m just a little distracted at the moment!” I replied stepping back to let Michael come in.

By now Elliott had turned the television off and arranged the room in readiness for the next regression I would be undertaking, he was just fluffing up the last cushion as we walked into the living room.

“Please don’t stand on ceremony for me. I’m interested in you two guys not the tidiness of your home, although I must say it is a very warm and inviting home which I would have expected from two such gorgeous people. Before we start could I have a glass of water? My mouth is rather dry and I have a feeling this may be rather a long session.”

As Elliott went to fetch Michael a glass of water I made myself comfortable in my chair and tried to still my mind in preparation.

Having taken a few sips of his water Michael started the session by recapping on what would be involved in the regression, how it works and what we could expect from it. Then, as before, Michael led me through the relaxation technique before taking me back through my memories.

“I want you to go back to the time when you were Caius Artorius Vitalis but this time I want you to concentrate on the next memorable event and describe everything that you can see, hear and feel please. Take your time, try to recall everything.”

From the recesses of my mind, vivid images and sounds sprang to mind assaulting my senses with their violence. In reaction I must have cried out because I felt Michael’s hand rest on my arm and his concerned voice asking me if I was okay and if I wanted to continue.

“Yes, I want to continue, I was simply caught unawares that’s all.”

“Tell me what can you see?”

“Bodies. Bodies everywhere, some are dead and others close to it. Grown men are crying out for help but I can’t help them, I can’t move. I can see them confident in their victory stalking among the bodies looting them of their weapons and valuables. The smell of death and gore is overpowering, I am gagging and close to vomiting. They are systematically decapitating the bodies and keeping the heads for trophies, I am angry at the lack of respect shown to my dead comrades.”

“What has happened? Who are they?”

“The Celts. We were ambushed not far from our destination, Isca Dumnoniorum. From every angle hundreds of them attacked us, we had barely time to react, we didn’t stand a chance against the over whelming numbers. Before we had time to get into formation the first soldiers were being killed or mortally injured. Within what seemed a few minutes there was only me and four other soldiers alive, then something struck the back of my head and I lost consciousness. When I came round I was lying on the ground with my feet tied together and my hands bound behind my back. The other surviving soldiers have met the same fate and are laying in a row near me.”

“What is happening now?”

“I can hear screaming, now it’s a gurgle, no it’s a squelching noise. Oh my god! The bastards are killing my wounded comrades; they’re not even being given a chance to surrender! I close my eyes, I can’t bear to watch – I wish I someone would cover my ears to the noises. I struggle against my restraints as I’m terrified that I will be next to be executed. Eventually it’s all over and now they are standing around us, covered in blood splatters with manic looks in their eyes laughing and jeering at our obvious terror. Someone behind me yells ‘Enough!’ I try to look in the direction of the voice but am unable to due to the position I am laying in. ‘Get these Roman dogs back to camp so we can celebrate and make sacrifices to Belatucadros for our victory today.’ Our captors’ expressions change from manic to lustful and their energy levels seem renewed. Suddenly I feel several pairs hands make contact with my body, I am confused for a moment expecting to be dragged away to where their camp is and whatever fate awaits me. Instead the hands seem to be fumbling with my armour and clothing, they are systematically removing everything and within a few minutes I am laying there stark naked (as are my other comrades) but the hands don’t leave me alone. From the tones in their voice I guess they are assessing my body’s physique, then the hands explore my cock and bollocks handling them roughly bringing tears to my eyes before reaching between my cheeks and shoving a dry finger up my anus. Jeez! It’s agonising and I cry out in pain making the hand’s owner laugh sadistically.”

“Are you okay?” Michael asked, with concern evident in his voice.

“Yes.” I reply “I am seeing and feeling everything as if I was there again but I know that it is only memories and not the here and now”.

“Okay. Carry on when you feel you are ready.”

“My torment has ceased, I have been lifted up and slung over a large guy’s shoulder and receive a stinging slap to my cheeks to remind me who is in charge. From my vantage point I see that we are all being carried this way and as we leave the scene of carnage a few of the Celts remain digging a pit in which to bury the corpses left behind. We leave the main track and cut through the woods using less obvious paths, having no hands to support myself I keep slipping off my captor’s shoulder. He quickly gets irritated by this and chuckling to himself he remedies the situation by pushing the arm of the shoulder I lay on up between my legs, then sticking a finger in his mouth to wet it he sticks it up my arse. In one clever move he has ensured that I am held securely and my mind is focused on his finger rather than trying to be a nuisance load. At first I find it incredibly uncomfortable, being an anal virgin apart from that finger a few minutes ago, I have never had anything up there before. Even through the military training school I had never experienced ‘manly love’ as our tutors had called it, I was aware that it happened but had always been too focused on my training to be distracted by physical relationships. After a while the discomfort eases and in a funny sort of way begins to feel pleasurable, the finger seems to be rubbing against something inside me with the result that my cock starts to stiffen and rub against my captor’s shoulder. By the time we reached their destination my hole has become accustomed to the intrusion and I barely notice it until it is pulled out just before I am unceremoniously dumped on the ground along with the others.”

“Where are you now? What can you see?”

“I don’t know. It’s some sort of camp hidden in the scrubland on top of a hill. You couldn’t see it from the main track down by the river and our scouts weren’t aware of it. It’s not fortified in the proper sense but thorn bushes surround it except for a couple of gaps forming a natural barrier. There are a dozen thatched huts at one end of the camp with a large open space in front of them. In the middle of the camp there are three thick stakes arranged in a triangle with metal loops attached to the top and bottom of each one. To one side of it there is a large tree trunk laying on its side, the bark has been removed and appears smooth as if it’s been polished. Every three feet there is a shallow scoop taken out of it, looking very much like a saddle so you can sit astride it and curiously at the centre of each seat is a short pole about six inches in length. Looking down the trunk the poles seem to get thicker but not longer. As with the stakes there are metal hoops attached in front of each seat and either side of it near the ground. I do not understand the use for either the stakes or the tree trunk. One thing that does surprise me is that near the largest hut is what looks like a large metal bath like some of our communal baths boast. I don’t understand how it got to be in a camp like this nor how they get water in to it.”

“What’s happening now?”

“News of our arrival must have spread because women and children come running out of the smaller huts, excited by the news of their recent victory and curious about the captives laying on the ground in a heap. I am hopeful that our treatment will improve due to the presence of the women and children; my hope is short lived as the women appear as scornful as their men folk. They make it quite clear that we must be cowards to have been caught alive in battle; the children are dirty little urchins intent on mischief and take great delight in pulling faces at us before pinching and kicking us without reprimand from their parents. Things aren’t looking good for us! Once the novelty wears off the crowd resume their normal pursuits, the men who had carried us to the camp saunter over and without making any comments fasten metal collars round our necks which are then attached to short lengths of metal chain. Still in silence, our wrist and ankle restraints are removed and I spend a couple of minutes stretching my arms getting the circulation back. Then without warning our captors turn on their heels and drag us stumbling over to the stakes where we are tied up as if we are dogs. They then leave jogging over to the group of huts and disappear into the largest one. Once we are alone Marius, Castus, Felix and Rufus and me talk in hushed tones about the recent turn of events and try to plan an escape strategy. We quickly realise that there is little hope of escape and inevitably our thoughts turn to the reputation the Celts have for treating their captives. I am feeling increasing despondent and fearful for my safety. I don’t believe I will reach the safety of a Roman settlement ever again. One by one as exhaustion takes its toll we fall asleep, huddled together in a naked heap praying to the various gods for a miraculous salvation.”

“How long are you left tied up for?” Michael prompts me after I remain silent for several minutes.

“I don’t know, but it is nearly night time when I wake with a start as a foot kicks me in the ribs. Standing in front of us are our captors, they have already unchained us from the stakes and indicate that we are to follow them. Again we are half dragged in the direction of the large hut but before we reach it our destination changes and we head to the metal bath where a couple of women are waiting for us with what looks like primitive soap and rags serving as clothes. I can see the bath has been filled with water and I finally understand that we are going to get the chance to wash the gore and grime off our bodies that make us smell like pole cats. I’m in for a shock though; we’re picked up and dumped unceremoniously into the freezing cold water. Then before I can try to jump out again the women wash every single part of our body not caring one iota about our modesties. They only stop when they are satisfied we are clean all over and no longer smell. Our captors indicate that it’s time to get out (not a moment too soon) and are led to a small hut where I can smell food cooking; my mouth is salivating as I haven’t eaten since the day before. In one corner there is a plate piled with chunks of bread and a bowl of vegetable broth and we are allowed to sit down unfettered and fill our stomachs with the welcome food. Life seems a whole lot better when your stomach is full! We are left alone apart from two armed guards at the doorway, until they step aside and an elderly gentleman makes his entrance. He has a kindly face and smiles a greeting before speaking to us in heavily accented Roman”

“Was this a surprise for you?”

“Very much so. Since the battle I haven’t understood any of the language being spoken. I was supposed to have learnt the British Celtic language before we left camp, but I am not very good with learning languages, I have enough trouble with Roman!”

“What did he say to you?”

“After he makes a welcome speech, he introduces himself as Cos, the high priest of Belatucadros (the Celtic god of war) and has been informed by Belenos Corann (the tribe’s chief) that we are now his responsibility. He asks each of us our names and do we understand that we had been spared our lives when we could easily have been killed in battle as is the fate of every true warrior. Reluctantly we give him our names and agree that our lives had been spared, not being sure where this conversation is leading us. You have given me a dilemma young men, as Roman soldiers you should be classed as warriors and yet you are still alive. According to my god’s rules we cannot kill you in cold blood because that will make us cowards and demand our lives in compensation for the shame we will have brought on the tribe. But to spare your lives and set you free will jeopardise the safety of our people and this camp. Mmm what should be done he ponders as he walks stiffly round the room; we watch his every move trying to guess where he is going with this. Finally he stops pacing, turns to us and says with a heavy sigh the only solution he can see is for us to face a series of challenges. If we successfully pass all of them we will be granted full membership of the tribe and will have to swear allegiance to the tribe. If we fail just one of the tests we will only be granted slave status for the rest of our lives but if we fail two or more tests then we will be classed as cowards and can therefore be executed in line with our laws. That is my decision. I will return in the morning with my priests to assist me in preparing you for your challenges, get some rest because you will surely need it. You will stay in this hut until then. We are silent digesting the information he has just given us, all except Rufus who asks if we could be given some clothing and rugs to keep us warm. The old man stares at him hard for a moment before frowning and spitting out his reply. The rumours are true, you Romans are now soft and weak, in the old days, your ancestors thought nothing of being naked whether in battle or at any other time. Now you need to cover up to keep your feeble bodies hidden from your enemies. Our men would rather die than show this level of weakness. If I hear any more questions indicating this level of weakness then I will consider you having failed a test and it will count as a strike against you. Do you understand? We all nod without saying anything for fear of offending him further. He leaves us without saying anything else. The old man talks briefly to our guards before disappearing into the darkness, after his departure they turn round and peer inside and in pigeon Roman whisper ‘sweet dreams little boys’. By now we’re exhausted and cold, there’s no form of heating in the hut so by common consent we huddle together for warmth and try to get as much sleep as we can not knowing what lay ahead for us tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?” Michael asks with an intense tone to his voice.

“We are woken at sunrise by the Cos and two young men introduced to us as Piran and Wingallock, his assistant priests. They offer us some fruit and dry bread for food and a beaker of water each to drink. Cos says we’re to obey them as if it was him speaking, any resistance or refusal will be taken as failing the challenge and so on. The tribe is looking for any excuse to kill you and I am all that stands between you and death, I am on your side but you must do as I say. Again we silently nod. Good he remarks, now you are going to be prepared for your first challenge. Follow me and keep up, do not try to escape, you have nowhere to run to in any case, and you will be hunted down likes the dogs that you are. He doesn’t wait for a reply from us. He and the priests leave the hut and march out of the camp. We hurry to keep up, doing our best to ignore the stares and sniggers from the men and women going about their daily chores. We are led out of the camp, through a thickly wooded area and suddenly come across another clearing. In the centre of the clearing stands a building which looks like a cross between a temple and bath house, I wonder who built it as it looks old but is obviously carefully maintained from the state of it.”

“Does it look Roman to you?” Elliot interrupts abruptly.

“Elliott, please don’t do that, I don’t want Sean to break his concentration.” Michael chides him quietly.

“Sorry.” Elliott replies.

“It sort of looks Roman but who would have built it I don’t know. We walk up to the entrance of the building but are not allowed inside as we are ‘unclean’ and heathen. They leave us standing there while they walk inside; they’re gone for several minutes before returning carrying some curious looking items. Cos is carrying a pot of what looks like animal fat and a large hollow cow’s horn with the tip having been cut off. Piran and Wingallock are carrying a large water urn between them as well as a smaller jug. Cos clearly remembers Rufus from the night before because he turns his attention to him first. Rufus come here, get down on your hands and knees, place your head on the ground at my feet with your bum high in the air. Rufus glances nervously at us but does as he’s instructed. That’s right, push your bum a little higher and spread your knees wider apart. Okay, you are now ready to be cleaned out, stay absolutely still and remain relaxed at all times. He then walks round behind Rufus and kneels down, we crowd round curious to see what will happen next peering over the old man’s shoulders. The two priests grin at us, clearly knowing what is about to happen, Rufus is aware of us but gauging by his red cheeks (on his face) he is very embarrassed. It is the first time that I have seen a man’s anus displayed in such a way and there is something very appealing about the way it quivers in response to the breeze blowing along the crevice between his cheeks. His bollocks and cock swung freely as he shifts his weight around. Cos picks up the pot of fat and scoops up some of the fat in his fingers and plays with it until it is soft and runny. He then leans forward and smears it around Rufus’s anus before pushing a large glob of it inside using his index finger. Rufus rears up momentarily, clearly this is not something he has experienced before, Piran pushes him firmly back down again. All the while Cos keeps his finger fully buried inside Rufus’s anus, smearing the fat all round inside allowing the man to adjust to the anal invasion. With a grunt of approval Cos indicates that he is ready for the next stage, while Piran holds Rufus’s head down on the ground, Wingallock hands Cos the cow horn who in one swift practised move inserts the narrow end into Rufus until a third of it has disappeared inside. This brings a muffled grunt from the Rufus but otherwise no visible reaction. I step forward a little closer to get a clearer view, this has the unfortunate effect of getting Cos’s attention who laughs and says easy Roman, your turn will be next! Without breaking his grip on the horn Cos takes the jug of water offered to him by Wingallock and slowly pours the water into the open mouth of the horn. From my view point I can see it slowly empty into Rufus’s bowels; jug after jug is poured into the horn and then into Rufus who is clearly becoming uncomfortable as his torso begins to distend. Cos reaches between Rufus’s outspread legs and palpates his stomach before pulling back and giving his bollocks a gentle tug. Standing up he gently pulls the cow horn out and tells Rufus to stand up and empty his bowels in the woods opposite us. Needing no encouragement he runs across the grass clutching his stomach before squatting down just out of sight, we then hear the tell tale sounds of the water and faeces exiting at great speed. Five minutes later he returns looking rather sheepish and trying not to make eye contact with us. As he rejoins us Cos tells me it is my turn to be cleaned out and that I am to assume the same position. Glancing quickly over at the others, Rufus grins before giving me an encouraging nod. I kneel down on the ground and place my head on my folded arms which has the effect of raising my arse in the air and I spread my legs wide. Feeling the air blowing across my hole and knowing it is on show to the others I find strangely erotic and before I know it I am sporting an erection which doesn’t go unnoticed by the others judging by the quiet wolf whistles behind me. I hear Cos crouching down behind me and I prepare myself for what is to follow. All too soon I feel his fingers greasing up my hole before pushing a lump of the fat inside followed by his large index finger. After the ordeal of having a dry finger shoved up there, having a greased one feels really good and turns me on even more. Unconsciously I start to back onto the finger much to the delight of Cos and Piran who are clearly discussing my reaction in their native tongue. I feel a hand reach under me and give my cock a slow massage; glancing sideways I see the hand belongs to Wingallock who looks at me coolly before withdrawing his hand and nodding at Cos. Then the finger withdraws to be replaced by the harder cows horn, it’s not uncomfortable just different and then the cold water starts to flow into me. I can understand Rufus’s discomfort, there seems to be no end in the water flowing in but eventually my stomach starts to bloat uncomfortably and Cos palpates it, assessing its fullness. Satisfied he pulls the horn out and tells me to run to the woods to empty out. I race as fast as I can clenching my cheeks all the while, as I squat down I never think it’s going to stop pouring out! Finally it does and as I walk back to the group I can see Marius is being cleaned out followed by Castus and Felix. While we watch Rufus gives me a hug and comments on how well I took the treatment, not like him who made a fuss over it. Nonsense I say in response, you are braver than me, you went first and didn’t know what was coming whereas I did so was better prepared. Besides, you should be proud, your hole looked very appealing winking at me in the sunshine! Rufus laughs in reaction and play punches me on the arm. Finally we have all been cleaned out to Cos’s satisfaction and are led back to the camp only to be chained up again to stakes without comment by the priests.”

I pause for a moment to take a long drink from my glass of water; I smile at Elliott before going back into my trance again.

“Okay, what happens next after you’ve been left at the stakes?” Michael asks.

“We are left alone for a while before being brought water and bread by a couple of women who openly stare at our bodies before running back to the huts. We are famished so eat the bread and drink the water quickly before we are interrupted. We spend most of the afternoon dozing in the afternoon sun shine; we are pretty much ignored by the tribe which is a relief to me. Then as the sun starts to set events take a sinister turn. We spot Cos, Piran and Wingallock leave their hut dressed in their druid clothing carrying three jugs of fat, two lengths chain and manacles, walking in our general direction but stop at the ‘tree trunk’ where the jugs and chains are put down on the ground. They are shortly joined by ten warriors in full battle regalia i.e. stark naked with body tattoos all over and gold torque necklaces and hair spiked carrying spears and daggers. Piran strides over to us carrying the manacles followed by the warriors who stare haughtily down at us. Silently Piran attaches the manacles to our wrist and ankles then with a nod to the warriors, they detach our neck chains from the stakes and lead us over to the tree trunk. As we stand there Cos and Wingallock are busy applying generous amounts of the fatty grease to each of the poles, it is beginning to dawn on me what these poles will be used for! When they finish that task they turn their attention to us, with a nod from Cos each of us are grabbed by two warriors who bend us over; one holding our head down and the other holding us round the waist preventing us from moving. Me, being nearest to Cos gets the treatment first; he walks up behind me and liberally greases up my anus. First one finger is inserted and for a while it is pushed in and out and twirled around to loosen up my hole, it is joined by a second finger briefly before they are withdrawn and Cos moves onto Felix next to me. This process is repeated until all five of us have been greased up. The warrior who is holding me by my waist releases his grip and walks round behind me before holding me by the waist again. He pushes my bum down until it is in the right position for him and without warning he thrusts his erect cock deep into me until his balls are pressing against my cheeks. I cry out in pain at the sudden intrusion and as my mouth opens to yell out I feel the other warrior position himself and then his cock pushes into my mouth and straight down my throat causing me to gag. I am being brutally fucked at both ends, no mercy is shown by either warrior but I am determined to show my courage by not protesting or resisting in any way. Slowly both orifices become accustomed to their cocks and it becomes a pleasure rather than a torment. On and on they thrust in and out until with final push and a guttural growl they shoot their loads into my rectum and down my throat, then abruptly pull out leaving a trail of jism oozing out of the cocks. Finally I am allowed to stand up straight and catch my breath, in doing so I see my fellow comrades being fucked in the same way. To my amusement all seem to be getting into the swing of it, even Rufus! Marcus is the last to be released and as he stretches his back he winces as he tenderly touches his backside making the warriors laugh loudly. I hear a noise to my left and am surprised to see another forty warriors marching towards us with great purpose. They are holding flaming torches as the sun has set and it is getting dark. They are as naked as the other ten warriors, with the same tattoos, gold necklaces and hairstyles, they look incredibly intimidating and if I am honest rather erotic with their macho swaggers and expressions made all the more fierce being lit by the torches. Behind them follows a familiar figure, it is the man I saw earlier on down by the river who had been trailing us, seeing my expression he laughs and nods in my direction. He is wearing the same leather trousers but this time is wearing a tunic over his upper body but his hair looks as wild as ever. Cos informs us that he is Belenos Corann, the tribe leader, and as far as we are concerned he is god. He has absolute power over your lives, one word from him and you can be killed or your life will be spared. By now Belenos has reached the group and is taking his time greeting each and every warrior before walking over to Cos and talks to him in fluent Roman, for our benefit I presume. He asks about our progress, seemingly satisfied with the response and he sits down cross legged on the ground quickly joined by a couple of warriors. They watch the ensuing action carefully and with some amusement. The remaining warriors crowd round us without saying anything they steer us towards the tree trunk where Cos instructs us to climb up and sit down on the first five seats making sure that the poles are fully inserted inside us. Feeling a little self-conscious I do as I am told, the pole itself is cock-sized and following my recent anal assault it slips in easily and I find myself sitting firmly down on the seat in no time at all. As I make myself comfortable the warriors attach my manacles to the metal loops by my wrists and feet ensuring that I am unable to move out of my seat. Looking over my shoulder I see the others are in the same position, turning back to face the front I realise that we are no longer the focus of attention for the tribe’s women have joined the warriors and there is a great deal of merriment and dancing and singing. For the next half an hour they dance around the tree trunk with their behaviour getting more and more lewd. Finally with a loud double clap from Belenos the women throw themselves to the ground swiftly followed by the warriors who waste no time in ravaging them with great gusto. Once the warriors are spent the women straighten their dresses and walk back to the huts giggling and waving to Belenos, who waves back in response. The warriors make their way over to us, unfasten our manacles and indicate for us to climb down from our seats. As I climb down I am grabbed by the waist and bent over again, bracing myself against the tree trunk I feel first one finger slip easily inside and then a second one joins it reasonably easy but when a third attempts to enter but it is met with resistance. When the fingers are withdrawn I am allowed to stand up but am pushed towards the next set of seats and told to climb up and sit down on the poles again.

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