“Let me put this simply. We are looking for the 10 men in this Century, over the age of 32, who can produce the largest emissions of semen in an orgasm. Those 10 men will be given a special duty, light duty, and paid treble wages. In addition, every day spent in this duty will count as two days to fulfilling your enlistment. In other words, men, if you are selected, you will be out of the service in half the time with three times the pay. Those of you under the age of 32 are dismissed, as are those over the age of 32 who are not interested.”
Four men left the room.
“Sir, I get paid twice to come once?”
“No, Centurion. You get paid three times to stay here and comply.”
“Give me a measure. I can fill it in one shot!” Raucous laughter nearly drowned out his words. Two of the men already showed signs of arousal.
“Let me have that measure. And send in Agrippina. She usually gets my best shot!”
“No sir, there will be no women here. Let me finish the terms before you all …. grab your swords, as it were. During the time of your duty, you will live on an island not far off the coast, but certainly too far from the mainland to swim. There will be no women on the island, no communication of any kind, with women… of any kind. You will live in complete celibacy.
“You will produce your spunk once a day, in a group, while observed by me or my designee. The emission will be collected and used for medical purposes. If you climax at any time other than under my supervision, you will be punished a flogging for the first offense, dismissal from the service for a second. There will be bonuses for quick performance, and for repeat performance. There will be demerits for failure to perform. Though, from you jests, I suppose we won’t have to deal with any failure to perform?
“Are there any questions? If not, those who wish to submit a “sample” may proceed through the door of the left. Those who wish not to be considered, may leave as they came in.”
Five men proceeded into the next room. When the others left, ten more were admitted. Much the same speech and much the same reaction was repeated again and again, until the entire Century was canvassed. The doctor grew tired of the jibes and bravura, but recognized it for what it was: fear of not being selected. When all was done, there were 53 men in the next room, sitting on ranked benches, facing a central open area.
The doctor entered. “Good. Alright men, disrobe. Yes, you heard me. Entirely. Remove all clothing, including shoes and jewelry. Leave them in the boxes under your benches.”
Some hesitated a moment. Most complied at once, bearing their bodies willingly, some proudly. Three hesitated longer than the others.
“You. Not yet ready? You are dismissed. As are you two.”
“But doctor..”
“Dismissed. There will be no hesitation, no refusal. Obey or be gone. You did not obey. You are gone. Are any of you of German descent? If so, come forward.”
Three men approached. “Your names?”
“Alabanas, sir.” The voice came from deep inside the man. Certainly over 40, but strong and powerfully formed, more than 6 feet tall, Alabanas had a full head of golden hair. His fair skin had not tanned well in the Roman sun.
“When was your last emission, Alabanas?”
“Um, the day before yesterday, I believe.”
“Good. See how well you can fill this measure.” Emopocles handed him a graduated brass cup that held perhaps 8 ounces.
“Yes sir. Where sir?”
“Well, here of course.”:
“With the others here?”
“There will be no hesitation, no refusal. Obey or be gone.”
Alabanas turned his back to his companions and picked up his flaccid member. He blushed, his buttocks as well as his face reddening as he began to massage himself.
“You?”
“Lenny, sir. Um Lenculus.” Lenculus just met the height requirement for service but was solid and compact. Unlike most of the others, he was circumcised.
“Are you a Jew?”
“No sir. Injured sir. And the cut was, um, completed by the surgeon.”
“Take this measure.”
“Yes, sir.” He had already begun to stiffen and as he took his place next to Alabanas, his prick was pointing straight in front of him.
“Manuus Plavus, Excellence.”
“No need to curry favor with titles, Manuus. How old are you?”
“I will be 33 next month, sir.”
“Have you always had these freckles, Manuus?”
“Yes sir. My mother used to say that some horse had spit….”
“I don’t care about your mother, Manuus. Is your father still alive?”
“As far as I know, yes sir.”
“Good. Fill this measure.”
“If there are any Celts in the room you may leave.”
“My mother was a Celt sir, but my father is Roman.”
“Dismissed. Celts produce week seed. Even if only on their mother’s side.”
Alabanas began to make noises. Through clenched teeth he hissed and breathed, and emptied his bollocks into the brass measure, filling it to the second graduation. Emopocles took the cup, looked at it, pursed his lips, nodded.
“Alabanas, you are our first of 10. Sit there by the wall and wait.”
Two more men were sent away because they lacked the proper age one by two months, one by two weeks. Three produced such thin and watery seed that they were deemed useless. One man, try as he might, could not produce any seed. To hoots and cat calls, he hurried from the room without picking up his clothes.
Within an hour, the 10, plus one as a “spare” were selected and herded out of the room, naked, with no possessions the breed stock that would seem to restore, if Emopocles knew his medicine, the potency that his patron seemed to lack.
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