Butler No MoreChapter 15
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Sporus
A Short Story
Based on fact as recorded in the Annals of Ancient Rome
By Maryanne Peters
My mother told me that my father was an important man. When I grew to
older I learned that unmarried mothers often claim this to excuse their
shame. But when I was born in Rome during the reign of Claudius Caesar,
that seemed a place and time without shame, anywhere. And in truth my
mother was but a freed slave, so as the child of a freed slave, I had
little reputation to be damaged.
If my father was from within the imperial family that might explain my
resemblance to the empress Poppaea Sabina that brought me to the
attention of the emperor himself. It was said, that what he did to me,
was designed to end a line of claim to power through my father, whoever
he might be. But Emperor Nero would know it, and he never told me that.
But it is true that many died at his direction to eliminate competition
for the highest office in the land.
I hope that I am not related to Sabina, as I consider her to be a
monster. It is well known that she bewitched the Emperor and persuaded
him not only to divorce his wife Octavia in order to marry her, but also
to kill his own mother Agrippina, who opposed the marriage.
It may be sweet justice that Sabina died at Nero's own hand in the 11th
year of his reign. He kicked her to death when she was heavily pregnant
with his child, killing them both. It was something that haunted him,
and certainly affected me.
He knew of me as a youth in Court, and he asked that I be brought before
him. When he saw me he wept. He told me that I was pretty, which is
not what a young man wants to hear. But my fate was sealed. I reminded
him of his wife. I was to become his creature. I was not only
castrated but completely emasculated. Then I was prepared to be his
bride.
My hair was longish, in the style of youths at that time. As a man
entered commercial or political life he was expected to keep his hair
short, but I was well short of that maturity. I was mature enough to be
sexually active with local girls, but the knife put an end to all of
that. I was 16 years old.
A skilled hairdresser was brought into prepare me for the wedding. Hair
cut from a woman's head was woven into my own and what I had of a beard
was torn from my face. My face was painted in the style of the day,
with my eyelashes and eyebrows darkened with soot and oil, and my lips
reddened with exotic cream. My entire body was bladed clear of hair and
dirt, and softened with fragrant oils.
Nero wanted me to be a woman. He called me Sabina as if I was his late
wife, but he knew that I was Sporus. He told others that I was.
He had some fine ladies associated with the palace coach me in feminine
voice and graces. Once I had overcome the shock of the injury done to
me, I felt that I needed to comply. I then knew that the Emperor Nero
was reputed to be a man completely capable of murder, particular of
those close to him. I had no wish to be among the dead.
The wedding was huge ceremony as befits an emperor. The entire senate
was in attendance, together with the leaders of notable families. I was
presented as the woman who would be his wife, but most of those present
knew that I was not a woman. Still, nobody said anything. Just like
me, they all wanted to survive.
I wore a long gown and a rose coloured veil. My body was shaped with
tightly-laced garments so I appeared to have the shape of a woman. Nero
said that I was beautiful, but others said it too. I may not have
believed it at the time, but I came to know that it was true.
After our wedding the Emperor had arranged a honeymoon holiday in
Greece, so we went to the Coast and boarded the Imperial ship for the
voyage.
That night I had my first sexual encounter with the Emperor, who
(strangely for him) had decided not to indulge himself until after the
ceremony. But he did indulge himself on his wedding night.
The ladies had kindly prepared me for this moment. I had been schooled
on how best to empty my bowel and wash myself, so that my anus might be
smoother to enter, and sweeter smelling than a vagina. I was prepared
that night, and on every night after that when I was called upon.
That first night I surprised myself by having an orgasm before he did.
From the place where my penis once stood I even discharged some clear
fluid. I called out when it happened, in a voice that was not female.
Nero would have disapproved had he not them orgasmed himself. After
that I learned to make sounds more like a woman, and to add to his
pleasure with the movement of my body. For I lived at the pleasure of
the Emperor, so his pleasure was my focus.
But within a short time, I came to enjoy being a woman, and I told the
Emperor this. Although I never would have thought it, as I had enjoyed
sex with women, I came to desire his attentions, and the feeling of him
inside me.
I thought that as a woman I could satisfy him, but Nero was a man who
thirsted for sensual delights. He was fascinated by the pleasure I took
from being entered, and so after our honeymoon he resolved to receive a
man as well. Not just one man -he became "wife' to two separate young
men.
I confess that I was jealous. Initially I thought it was an insult to
me efforts, but later I became glad that his sexual activities were not
confined to me alone. All that I needed to do was to be his wife, and
to display beauty and grace in his presence, and hunger and passion in
his bed. Both things became easier with time.
I took much time over my appearance. I grew my hair longer and kept it
clean by washing it regularly with lye water and rose petals. I could
spread it across the pillow or dangle it in his face while we engaged in
coitus, and then I had hairdressers to curl and arrange it when in
public.
Once he understood that I enjoyed being his wife he offered honours and
money to people who could transform me further into a woman. One man
was able to find a brew that I drank daily and which had the effect of
giving me breasts. The substance tasted foul, but was effective. I
ended up with real breasts and an enlarged bottom, and soft womanly
flesh all over my body. I found that my body, and in particular my
nipples, had become so sensitive that rubbing them would give pleasure,
just as a woman could feel.
Nero suggested I could have a vagina also, but that would involve
cutting me again, and I was not ready for that. I would rather have the
Emperor's penis in my back passage than in an open wound between my
legs. Still the Emperor offered great honours and large sums of money
to anyone who could transform me into a true woman, with a womb so that
I could bear him a child.
Nero introduced me to all as his wife. If I had thought that it was
some cruel game at the beginning, I came to realise that he truly loved
me.
Stranger still, I had come to love Nero. He was the one who had taken
my manhood, and by rights I should have hated him. But I came to see
just how much he cared for me, and when were physically intimate he was
gentle and concerned for my joy as well as his own. When a person loves
you, and makes love to you like that, it becomes hard not to love him
back.
I knew that he was a bad man - some say that he was a monster - but I
was with him when he fled Rome during the fires. There were only five
of us, so I was important to him. He was becoming desperate and
depressed, despite all my efforts to keep him in good cheer, but it
still surprised me when he took his own life. He was a deeply flawed
person. He had little courage for a fight, but I still would have
expected him to have taken down more of his enemies than he did.
I prided myself that I had the courage to run with him. But the truth
is that he was my husband and I had sworn to stay with him unto death.
I kept that promise and nobody could ever deny it. We had been married
for three years.
I wept for him. But unlike him, I was determined to survive.
I would have expected that Nero's successors would have quickly disposed
of me as the emperor's folly, but I had the good fortune to be taken
before the praetorian prefect Nymphidus Sabinus. If I was of noble
birth it would be through his family, so perhaps there was some truth to
it. But more importantly I had always understood that Sabinus was
fascinated be me. I was guilty too, of flirting with him out of the
sight of the emperor. It was dangerous, but I did this with men who
were interested in me, simply to hone my feminine skills. I knew that I
was pretty, but I also knew that the fact that I had once been male
evoked extreme curiosity.
That flirtation was an investment that paid back. Sabinus granted me
limited protection, but then I led him to my bed. I gave him an
experience that he could never forget. Perhaps it was because of my
life as a male I know better than women how to please a man. After a
short while as his mistress he proposed that I marry him. I did. The
ceremony was not so grand as my first wedding, but just as pleasing. I
wore a beautiful gown and had my hair put up in an ornate style.
So now I was the widow of the emperor married to the man who had secured
his downfall. This is because it was Sabinus and his friend Otho (later
Emperor Otho) who had plotted against Nero and driven him from Rome.
Sabinus believed that he was the illegitimate son of the Emperor
Caligula and he was using this to claim the right to rule through direct
link to the first Caesars. His claimed paternity seemed unlikely given
what is widely known about that emperor - perhaps the most vicious and
perverted ruler ever known.
If there was any link to the line of succession it was by marriage - his
marriage to Nero's widow - me. If that was it, then I was happy to play
the role in order to survive. But just as it was with Nero, Sabinus
fell in love with me.
Regardless of my skills in bed, I often wonder if it was my beauty or my
character that won me the love of both husbands, and to what extent my
prior existence as a man played a part. I like to think that as a
person who had once been a man, I understood men better. Men want
pleasure and ease with a woman. Without the monthly cycle, my
personality was consistent. Men want a woman that other men are
interested in, but can never have. I was beautiful, and desirable, and
captivating, but always faithful to my husbands. Maybe just a little
flirtation with others.
But the claims that Sabinus made through his lineage and his marriage,
were not enough to displace Galba as emperor. One day my second husband
did not return home, and I received news that he had been killed by a
rival faction supporting another candidate to replace Galba as emperor.
As a matter of survival I approached my husband's friend and co-
conspirator, Otho, for protection. He gave it. When he became emperor
I was a protected widow, both of his past emperor and of his friend.
Otho was married, but I became his mistress. This was the second
emperor to enter my bed. Me, a man become woman, and son of a slave.
After some years of consuming the foul-tasting liquor daily, I had
acquired truly female curves. I was a voluptuous young woman (I was
still quite young), and a woman who was skilled in satisfying a man.
Otho knew that, and I made sure that our first encounter did not
disappoint him. But Otho came to care for me and respect me, as well.
He was not love like Nero and Sabinus. I barely think him capable of
that. But after sex we could talk as I lay next to him and he played
with my hair. Uniquely, I had experience of all the problems he was
facing. I was knowledgeable, supportive, and discrete.
So Otho never fell in love with me. But I think that his respect for me
was greater than even Sabinus.
Unfortunately, Otho went the same way as my second husband, and as most
of the Caesars before Nero - he died at the hands of his successor, one
Vitellius. And this is where my luck would appear to have run out.
Vitellius was a pig of a man. He was large and fat, his only physical
activity being eating. He had several banquets each day, often
featuring rare and expensive food. While eating he enjoyed exotic
entertainment, and I was called upon to contribute. He would compel me
to sing, which I could do, with the ability to reach high notes close to
that of a natural woman, as well as low notes that no woman could
achieve. He would have me dance as a woman and then throw me a sword
and tell me to fight for my life with a guardsman, as I had learned
swordplay as a youth and kept it up for exercise. He was not interested
in sex with me. He saw me as a boy in disguise.
After I had defeated one of his bodyguards in swordplay, he told me that
I was such a treat that all Rome must see me perform at the Coliseum.
He could have me appear as an amazon warrior, and pit me against some
gladiator, of similar size to start with. Or, if I would not fight he
said that he would re-enact the rape of Proserpina. Either way, I knew
then that I was doomed to die at the hands of this pig. The question is
how to avoid it.
I still had friends at Court, and it was planned that I should fake my
death by suicide. I would throw myself into the Tiber in front of
witnesses. My body (one procured for the purpose, her vagina sewn
together and dressed in clothes of my station) would be discovered
downstream much later in rotted condition.
The idea was that I would cut my hair and return to manhood. The Sporus
who became Sabina would be gone forever. The problem was that I had a
woman's body and It could not easily changed. And my body was
attractive to men. And I had become attracted to them. But most of
all, I had grown used to life as a woman, and in particular a married
woman. I knew that I could never return to life as a man, and I did not
want to.
History records that I committed suicide as my husband the Emperor Nero
had done, in June of that same year - the year that became known as "the
Year of Four Emperors". My friends came forward to testify that they
had seen me jump. They buried the body with care and a small amount of
ceremony. After all, I had been the wife or mistress, of two emperors.
I was Sporus, the boy castrated by Nero Caesar to become his wife.
Supposedly dead in only my 22nd year. But I was not dead. I survived.
In fact, I married again and went on to be widowed a third and then a
fourth time. By good fortune for me, and for every citizen of Rome, the
new emperor was Vespasian. His reign lasted for 10 peaceful years,
during which I was the wife of Marcus Teritus, and stepmother to his
three children. Vespasian and my dear Marcus died in same year, and
during the reign of Titus and Domitian I was married to Maximus Galba,
whose wealth gave security for me and my children.
I am older now, but the Emperor Trajan is our Caesar, and Rome is at the
height of its wealth and power. He is wise and moral, and it seems that
the days of fear and sorrow are behind us. I have high hopes for my
grandchildren, as it is them I live for now.
But after the death of Maximus, I have a regular visitor in Gaius
Tacitus, the senator and writer of histories. He is younger than I by
only a few years, but he is a robust and active man and lover of the
outdoors. His wife Julia, having recently died he seeks female company
that I can provide, and also to hear my stories of older times, as he
was in the provinces for the worst of them. I could tell him details of
the life at Court that few knew, in particular of "the Year of Four
Emperors". He is curious as to how I could possibly know so much, but
everything that I have told him he understands to be true. I have not
yet told him my secret, that I am Sporus, the boy turned woman, widow of
the Emperor Nero, but perhaps I should?
The End
© Maryanne Peters 2018
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- 24.10.2022
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