Hey Fury's ! Here's a little throw back of Dan & Joe Naufahu and Dan's Brother getting their Gladiator workout on at the Ludus Magnus Gym... Have an Amazing weekend furys ! Gratitude Ninja Admin =) Дэн, ну ты коротышка
получила сегодня книги с озона. в их числе "Гелиогабал, или коронованный анархист" - биография императора-садиста,бога-подростка, которая была написана,"чтобы помочь читателям слегка разучиться истории,но в то же время уловить её нить". Автор, Антонен Арто, может быть вам знаком в связи с основанным им Театром жестокости. Гелиогабала часто ставят в один ряд с безумцем Калигулой, матереубийцей Нероном,автор жизнеописания вспоминает Вителлия,императора,наслаждавшегося убийствами, но,на мой взгляд, вообще не правомерно проводить какую-либо параллель между этими личностями. Действия Гелиогабала определены его верой в Эла-Габала - семитского бога, которого по этимологической ошибке заменили на греческого Гелиоса. и действия юного императора, продиктованные культом,в который он был посвящён, крайне ярко отразили все противоречия, раздирающие римское общество. четыре года его правления (218-222гг., с 14 до 18 лет) - это ликование насилия,доходящего до геноцида, это царство золота,крови,спермы и экскрементов, это развал политической системы и позор сената. приобщиться к подлинной,официальной, биографии: Элий Лампридий. Антонин Гелиогабал.
совсем из башки вылетело! увидела на тумблере цитату из вырезанной сцены из "Спартака" Кубрика. вспомнила, что это было в документальном фильме "Целлулоидный шкаф" 1995г., фильме,посвящённом теме гомосексуальности в кинематографе. из цензурных соображений была вырезана сцена омовения Марка Красса, в чём ему помогал новый раб Антонин. между ними происходит следующий диалог: Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you eat oysters? Antoninus: When I have them, master. Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you eat snails? Antoninus: No, master. Marcus Licinius Crassus: Do you consider the eating of oysters to be moral and the eating of snails to be immoral? Antoninus: No, master. Marcus Licinius Crassus: Of course not. It is all a matter of taste, isn't it? Antoninus: Yes, master. Marcus Licinius Crassus: And taste is not the same as appetite, and therefore not a question of morals. Antoninus: It could be argued so, master. Marcus Licinius Crassus: My robe, Antoninus. My taste includes both snails and oysters.
в этой сцене Красс завуалированно выдает свою бисексуальность и интерес к молодому рабу. соответствующая сцена из "Шкафа"
'Spiritual love seeks sexual expression' - where did I read that? My ba, my soul (psyche, butterfly, glorious winged angel) attracted by the light, the flame that lit his alabaster body, spent itself in poetry and song, fluttered like a moth about his flame, hypnotised by that clear ray of being.
The moth is singed, is doomed, must surely die less she escapes from light into the dark. So my soul escaped into the body, there found peace and pleasure and repose upon his couch of flesh and in his open arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
We had been out hunting. After the hunt, he stripped. I gazed upon that plenitude of flesh, that luscious living cornucopia; watched as what was godlike in the boy glowed in living being there before me. He stripped. Not shamelessly but just to get out of his clothes, simple as that, natural as that, unhampered in his perfect poise and grace by any base lascivious intention - just to get out of his clothes, to relish the cooling breeze that crept along the forest floor rustling among the brittle fallen leaves like rippling water over pebble beds. We had ridden so long and hard that day.
Birds in the forest sang. The insects danced in sunlight. Then a sudden stillness came. A wind, a gusting wind. Then still again as if a storm were brewing. And yet no storm disturbed the dreaming vision of the trees communing with us as I gazed at him and he unblinkingly gazed back at me his eyes in the dim green twilight turned to gold.
He smiled at me. He was always smiling. By now I think he knew I wanted him. It was all quite natural, in the calm Greek way. Not like those lascivious Latins I had known at uncle Trajan's court, had known, had had, sucking their forefingers, showing their bums.
There was a way, a code. We behaved like men. Not like men pretending to be women. I know that that sounds prudish. And yet it was so vital to me then to act with circumspection. I wanted him and not some common tart, the simpering lads that hang around the army.
He loved as he hunted, determinedly, with humour, never losing sight of the fleeting quarry, relaxed and natural with a smiling face; with politeness and with foresight and with grace, perfectly accomplished. Had he done this before? I never asked.
He lay upon the forest floor among fallen stalks and leaves and mossy earth stretched out like a wary woodland faun propped upon one elbow, watching me, having just combed his hair, his wonderful luxuriant curling hair - the comb caught in the tresses, they were so thick. Then he stretched his aching limbs and rested. Yawning - how fondly I recall his graceful yawning! - (Was there anything, in all the time I knew him, that was not done with grace?) half turning, one smooth hand clasping the other above his head, the lovely legs crossed sensuously at the knee - a warm bow of flesh awaiting the hand to draw it. And he smiled again, consenting. (So doting and so fond, my grammar awry!)
Never man more smitten than myself. Never longing more powerful than mine. Never love more poised more calm than his.
The first kiss on those large and lovely lips had in it the taste of nectar Ganymede himself the cup, my page Antinous.
Far off my men were setting up the camp their voices echoed dampened through the wood as my thigh slid between his strong smooth thighs and forest creatures watched us from the trees and mating butterflies thronged the heavy air forming a canopy above our heads.
When he whispered 'Master' I silenced him hating the word and meaning of the word told him he was free to love or not. Again he whispered 'Master' to annoy me, all the laughter glinting in his eyes.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
When we walked back to the camp the men were watching smiling among themselves. They envied me. How could they help but envy me, the lover of the loveliest boy in all Bithynia?
интересный коллаж с Назиром. только не понятно,с какой целью капсы зеркально отражены, и из-за этого верхняя мордашка ну совсем не получилась. но томный Назир из Паны с пририсованными волосиками очень даже тэйсти Назир после первой страстной ночи под катом перевёрнутая - я как всегда не смогла сдержаться читать дальше по-моему, так нижний больше похож на себя - всё таки так он в исходнике
Ну Дэн как всегда Waiting 4 my beautiful sisters date to arrive for get first formal .. So proud но я на самом деле в шокеце от этой семейки дядей Стёп
в точку! коммент.1 Agron just can’t stop pouting, can he? коммент.2 Well the Romans keep cock blocking him. Can you blame him for pouting? коммент.3 Since we last saw him, Nasir has gained a pair of pants, a belt, some armor, a penis necklace, a cuff, and two arm bands that appear to be studded with spikes (?), and a spear. Agron has gotten… a fuckton of mishmash thrift store armor. gaygreekgladiator