A slave took a rag and began to wipe his limbs and Greg felt immediately uncomfortable and conscientious of his nakedness. He noted that the attendants were mindful of the areas of injury and avoided wiping the areas.
“You shall bathe…” Cato said and Greg only understood the few words. Another slave came and gently patted them down with towels and then Cato said something and pointed to low benches with holes, in the next room. Startled, Greg realized that they were toilets. He followed behind Thad and wanted to ask him questions, but didn’t want Cato to hear him. He was self-conscious of sitting on the seat and hoped to god the seats were clean. At least in boot camp, you had a stall around you and a bit of privacy.
Cato sat down and reached for a stick that was sitting in a bucket. The stick had a sea sponge attached to it and dripped water when he took it out of the bucket. There were buckets with sticks along the toilet benches. Greg watched in horror as Cato took a shit, then took the sponge stick and wiped his rump. Then, swished it in a low trench that had water coursing through it and put the stick back in the bucket. The man walked over to the entrance of the bathroom and waited.
Greg looked at Thad, who looked shocked as well and the color had gone out of his face. Dean looked like he wanted to cry and Greg felt like it too. Marco’s face was blank with shock, his eyes large and his mouth worked silently. What in the hell are we supposed to do? Reuse a nasty ass sponge that someone else has used, that might have crap still stuck to it? he wondered.
“Seriously, dude. We gotta uses shit sponges? That have, like, shit on them?” Dean croaked.
“Fucking hell,” Marco hissed low.
Cato said something and Thad answered in rapid Italian and the other man laughed and shook his head.
“What did he say?” Greg asked.
“I told him we weren’t used to using sponges. He laughed and said that he wasn’t going to lick our assholes and to hurry up and shit,” Thad replied and Greg wished he was anyplace else but here. His bowels complained and he had no choice but to take a dump in front of his friends. They looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He noted that there were at least two dozen holes and figured that gladiators not only fought together but took a shit together. He now longed for the day when he had to take a piss test and was shy about that. Now, he had to take a crap and it seemed that was done so in large groups and that no privacy was normal here.
I should have had a clue when no one looked twice at us for wandering around naked, he thought darkly. He’d never thought as himself shy, prudish or uptight, but taking a dump in public kind of went over the line in his book. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the rest of them, though knowing that Cato was watching didn’t help. He knew his friends would respect his personal space and privacy, but they would be the only ones. When he was finished, he reached for the bucket and a stick. He swished it around in the bucket wildly, hoping to dislodge anything that might be on there. Gritting his teeth, he took the sponge out.
He saw no obvious signs of use and could detect the heavy scent of vinegar. That somewhat helped his sense of outrage and revulsion, but not by much. Holding his breath, he gritted his teeth and cleaned himself, not daring to look over at his friends. When he felt he was done, he swished the sponge in the long trench of moving water and then threw the stick back into the bucket for the next poor bastard. He also took the opportunity to urinate. When he did, Cato said something and he looked at the man blankly. He turned and looked at Theo questioningly.
“He said not to piss in there, that there are buckets that are used to collect urine. He said the laundry needs the urine,” Thad said and Greg nodded dumbly, he didn’t even want to know why the laundry needed their piss. He walked over and waited for his friends to join him. Marco walked over to a wooden bucket and Greg heard him urinate into it. Dean and Thad did the same. When they were ready to leave, they followed Cato out and Greg tried to put the toilets and sponges out of his mind.
Walking along the corridor, Dean could tell that it was becoming late afternoon. With each step, he felt the stress and sting of his numerous injuries. He was trying to put the bathroom out of his mind and just focus on one foot in front of the other. He guessed he should be glad that he didn’t have to use his hand to wipe his ass. He knew that during this time, some cultures did. The stink of the latrines was left behind and they moved around the slaves that filled the passageway. He caught the scent of food and his stomach rumbled. It had been a hell of a long time since breakfast
