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Jason's First Night

By: freshface



"Come now," the auctioneer said. "Ten denarii is an insult for quality such as this. This young man is fluent in Greek and Latin and trained as a scribe from childhood. He writes both languages in a beautiful hand and knows mathematics. Those skills alone deserve a better bid. And look at this body; they write poems about bodies like this. With him you get a complete package, a slave you can use both day and night."

The bidders had formed a pack around us as we stood on the auction block. The auctioneer's assistants had already pulled off my rags; now they turned me before the crowd.

"Fifteen denarii," came a voice from the crowd.

"Surely you jest," replied the auctioneer. "This one comes untouched by another master. You can train him to suit your own taste."

"You mean he's never learned manners," shouted another voice from the crowd. "If he's free-born and raised, he doesn't know his place."

"He learns fast enough and you can teach him to suit. This one has not been ruined by poor handling."

"Twenty denarii," another voice cried. This one was a woman; she had already purchased other young men and women this morning. One of the slaves had said that she ran a brothel on the wharf and often needed new slaves.

"Look at these legs, this ass," the auctioneer said. "See how healthy he is; ready to satisfy his master's needs. Quality such as this is rare."

He fondled my cock, and I burned in shame. The bids came faster now and from all around me.

"Fifty denarii. Do I hear fifty-five? This is your last chance to own this treasure."

"Sold for fifty denarii!"

I hadn't seen who made the winning bid before the auctioneer's assistants led me off of the block and allowed me to put my rags on again.

"Wait here."

Now I sat alone in the Roman marketplace, surrounded by the bustle and chatter of the crowd, but I did not see them. The merchants called out their wares and the pack animals jingled their harnesses, but I did not hear them. The sunlight was warm on my shoulders, but I was cold inside for I had never thought I would be a slave.

For eighteen years I had been my father's heir, groomed to follow in his business. Mine had been a sheltered and predictable life, filled with work and study. Even my betrothal strengthened my father's alliances. Then disasters struck, each one worse than the one before, and in a few short weeks everything was lost. I had never met my betrothed; now her family refused me. When the creditors moved in, I quickly went from my father's heir to an asset for my father's estate. With my father dead and my family dispersed, I was truly alone.

At last, a man dressed as a steward came and bade me follow him. We walked through the city to a large and sumptuous villa, where I learned that I had been purchased by a wealthy Roman merchant. The steward led me down to the servants' bath.

"Pull off his rags," he ordered the slaves. I struggled, but one slave restrained me while another ripped my clothes from me. They held me still while the steward examined me as you might examine a prized racehorse. The lust in his eyes made me cover myself in embarrassment. He smacked my ass and said "Take your hands away! You are here for your master's pleasure; cover yourself in his presence and you will feel his wrath soon enough!"

With that he ran his hands down my body and tweaked my flaccid cock. He forced open my mouth to examine my teeth, roughly probed my arms and legs and weighed my nuts in his hands. I struggled to hold still as he examined me. "Underneath the dirt you are an attractive little morsel. Too bad the master wants you delivered to his chamber untouched."

The caravan master who delivered me to auction had said something similar, but I didn't really understand what they meant. 

The steward squeezed my nuts as he said, "Your master expects passion and obedience from his slaves. You would be wise to keep him happy. I run his household. You would be wise to keep me happy also."

I shivered at his words and at his look, for he was not a kind man. Finally, he ordered the slaves to prepare me and departed.

The rest of the day was a blur of baths and scrapers and oils. At the end, I found myself alone in my master's chambers. I looked around curiously at the elaborate decorations. The room was luxurious, with statues resting in niches and a silk carpet covering the floor. There was a large bed in the middle of the room and a couch against the far wall. I curled my toes in the carpet, reveling in the softness against my feet. The artwork suggested a man of culture, and the classic scrolls on the table told me that my master was well read. I had read some of those scrolls myself; they brought back memories of a happier time.

One wall was covered with brightly colored frescoes. I moved over to examine them more closely and blushed at the scenes they portrayed. I had no experience with sex; my betrothed had lived far away, and I had concentrated on learning my father's trade. The men and women in the paintings were having sex in ways and positions that I had not known were possible. Of course I had heard that some men were attracted to other men, but I had never seen two men joined together. I was fascinated to see them sucking each other's cocks, wrapped together in ardor. I had never known that women might feel passion for each other, but here they were shown kissing and intimately touching each other.

Other pictures seemed to have nothing to do with sex. They showed men and women bound with chains or rope; whips striking them, clamps biting into their flesh, mouths gagged. Some of them were shown aroused as the whips struck them. Surely this was artist's fancy; how could such treatment provide pleasure? I thought perhaps these scenes were warning for what could they have to do with passion. 

I felt an arm wrap around me, a body press against me as a voice whispered in my ear. "Do you like what you see on my wall?"

I jumped and whirled to look at the man behind me. I had not heard him enter and my heart pounded in my chest. He was a tall man of middle age, with graying hair and a distinguished look. I thought that at one time he must have been very fit, but now was beginning to soften. He turned me around so that I faced the pictures again, his arms wrapped around me, hands stroking my chest. "I asked if you like what you see on my wall."

"I don't understand all that I see on your wall."

He followed my gaze to the scenes with the whips and laughed. "You will not experience everything you see on this wall tonight. We will start slowly with you; introduce you gently to your purpose."

He pointed to a picture of a man bent over the edge of a couch as another man entered him from behind. "That one you will enjoy often for it offers marvelous penetration and control, but not tonight. Tonight I want to look in your eyes as I take you for the first time, watch as you reflect what you feel."

I couldn't understand what he was saying. Perhaps the hints had been there, but did he mean to take me in to his bed tonight? Was this why I was here? The steward's words and the caravan master's; they made sense now. I felt a growing knot of apprehension as I understood what was about to happen to me and wondered how I would survive it. 

He pointed to another scene showing three men together. "This one you may never experience. I am a jealous lover and don't like to share, at least not at first. Be warned that if I ever catch you with another without my permission, you will be punished." I wondered if that warning extended to the steward, understanding now what the steward would take from me if he could.

He pointed to a third scene, one I hadn't noticed before. It showed a young man kneeling on the floor in front of another man, a cock disappearing down his throat. The young man had one hand wrapped around the cock in his mouth while the other held the other man's testicles. "This is where we will start."

I looked at the pictures and wondered how it would feel when my master entered me. It felt strange to have a man hold me in his arms, stranger to feel him caressing me. His hands felt good as they moved over my body but I was afraid of what I saw in the pictures. Pressed against him, I felt him begin to stir.

One of his hands had moved under my tunic, fondling my chest as he nuzzled at my neck. "I expect you to be a passionate lover in my bed. It is not enough to passively submit to my caresses. You must respond to them; to move against me and caress me with your mouth and hands. Do you understand?"

I nodded numbly, trying to absorb all that he was saying, distracted by his hands stroking me.

He pinched my arm and said, "You will answer out loud and call me Sir or Master when I ask you a question. I do not wish to punish you but I will have your obedience! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He turned me to face him and ran his soft fingers over my face. He slowly pulled off my tunic, running his hands and mouth over my flesh as he exposed me to his sight. He tossed my tunic aside and looked at my naked body hungrily. I wanted to cover myself again, but I remembered the steward's warning and held still for his inspection. He started to rhythmically stroke my flaccid cock with his hand.

"Relax," he said. "Relax and enjoy the sensations." I moved against his hand as my cock started to swell. My face burned with shame but I couldn't control myself.

"Yes, you will do nicely."

"It is time for you to undress me now," he said. My hands trembled and fumbled with the fabric, but the tunic slid off easily, revealing a torso that was soft and white, covered with salt and pepper hair. I did not look down further, afraid of what I might see.

He pulled me to him, holding my head as he moved his lips against mine. I had never kissed before and was surprised when he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I pulled back, uncertain how to respond. My master looked at me sternly and reached for a strap that I hadn't seen before. He held it up to me and said, "I meant what I said about your passion and obedience. If you can't find passion on your own, perhaps the strap will help you. Keep resisting me and we'll find out."

With that, he put the strap down and pulled me into his arms again. This time I opened my mouth to his tongue and ran my hands over his back and sides.

"Better," my master said. "You are learning."

His mouth moved down my chest, tongue and lips working over my skin, until he arrived at my nipple. He tweaked it with his teeth and I jumped at the sensation. My master's hands grasped my butt and started rhythmically squeezing my cheeks. One hand moved between my legs and started playing with my sack. I gasped and moved against him, my cock growing harder as he fondled me.

I was confused and conflicted. Nothing had prepared me for the feelings that were sweeping over me. I enjoyed my master's hands against my skin, his lips caressing me. His skin was smooth and soft under my hands as he moved against me. My life's experience had taught me that this was not my path; how could I enjoy these feelings?

My master sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Kneel before me now and pleasure my cock with your mouth and hands, as the picture showed you." I froze. He gave the strap a meaningful look and I moved to him quickly.

He pushed me to my knees, and I found myself facing my master's cock. I had never thought to examine another man's cock before and wasn't certain what to do with this one. It was larger than mine and thicker, the head bulbous and purple. I reached out to it and ran my fingers over the shaft, feeling the veins and ridges beneath my fingers. It twitched in my hands, and I thought that I must have done something right. Fluid leaked from the slit and ran over my fingers. I rubbed the foreskin over the head, fascinated to see it stretch and move. As I stroked the cock, it swelled and thickened, jutting out from my master's body. I thought about this large mass fitting into me and was afraid again.

"Yes," my master hissed. "Now take me in your mouth and suck my cock."

He pushed his cock against my mouth and I smelled his musky scent. I opened to the pressure, suckling the cock and exploring it with my tongue. My master pushed deeper in my mouth and I gagged as it hit the back of my throat. He pulled out until only the head was in my mouth.

"Swirl your tongue around my cock and press against my slit."

I tasted his fluids, salty and bitter, as he leaked in my mouth, wrapping my tongue around him as he guided me. I moved my tongue under his cock just behind the head, where I had found pleasure when I had stroked my own cock. My master gasped, and his cock grew in my mouth.

"Yes, you are a natural at this. Bathe my cock with your tongue and use your hands on me."

I brought my hands up to grasp his cock, running my fingers around the base. He moved one of my hands to his testicles; I weighed them in my hands and rubbed them against each other.

My master was holding the sides of my head now, his fingers tangled in my hair. He started controlling the pace, fucking my face with his cock and pressing against my throat. I gagged and drooled against him, unable to breathe, as he continued his relentless strokes. My jaw ached as I struggled to keep my teeth away from him.

"Relax," he groaned. "Relax and swallow my cum."

With that he held my head tightly and shot his seed down my throat. I tried to swallow, but there was too much cum and it came too fast. I struggled to free my head from his grasp as his cum choked me. I retched and cum flowed from my mouth.

I knelt on the carpet at my master's feet as he recovered his breath. Finally he looked at me and shook his head.

"That is the third time you ignored my commands. I had hoped not to punish you tonight, but I think it is time to give you a taste of what will happen when you defy me. You will place yourself over my knees, face down."

I shivered at his words but he was my master. Under Roman law he could do whatever he chose to me. I knew that I had no options as I gingerly placed myself across his lap.

He picked up the strap and said, "You will count each blow as it lands, and you will thank me for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes master."

The first blow landed hard against my cheeks. I jumped at the burn and squirmed to get away. Instinctively, I moved my hands to cover myself.

"Hold still and keep your hands down or you will get more than a taste!"

"Yes master, thank you, master," I gasped. "One, sir."

The next ones came quickly. "Two, thank you sir," I cried. "Three, thank you sir. Four, thank you sir."

My master paused and started rubbing my abused flesh. I squirmed under his touch as his hands fanned the flames. I struggled to hold still, as he had commanded me.

"It gives me no great pleasure to treat you like this. Your life here can be very pleasant here if you choose. It can be very unpleasant if you defy me. You must decide."

The strap landed again, harder this time against my ass.

"Owww...Five, thank you sir."

"The steward, on the other hand, enjoys punishing recalcitrant slaves. Disobey me often enough and we'll see if he can compel your obedience."

Five more times the strap landed hard against me before my master paused again. My ass burned with the pain of the strap, throbbing in time with my heart.

Again my master rubbed my ass as he talked to me. "Will you obey me now, or do you require further demonstration?"

"Please master, I will obey," I sobbed.

"Then it is time to prepare you to take my cock."

My master reached his fingers into a pot and ran them along my crack. The salve felt good against my burning skin. He collected some more salve from the pot and placed his finger against my anus. I tensed against the penetration I knew would follow. My master pushed against me and popped through my sphincter. I clenched against the invading finger as it pushed inside me. His second finger quickly joined his first, and I felt them moving, twisting and stretching inside me. My master continued to knead my ass with his other hand, squeezing the marks left by the strap.

The two fingers pulled most of the way out and were joined by a third. I gasped and jumped at the intrusion. My master only laughed and said, "You're just getting started. The night holds much more for you."

I was surprised to find my body responding to this treatment. My cock began to swell again as my ass rose up against the fingers inside them. I enjoyed their movement and wanted more of them. I felt empty when my master finally pulled his fingers from me. They were soon replaced by a rod, cold and slick, stretching my opening as it slid inside me. The sensation was odd. I felt full, like I needed to defecate, but the rod was moving in the wrong direction. My master moved the rod back and forth several times and then pushed it deep, ordering me to keep the rod in place, to help prepare me for what was to follow.

He swatted my ass with his hand as he told me to stand. His hands on my waist guided me onto his lap again, sitting on his knees as I faced away from him. I gasped as I sat on my sore cheeks and felt the rod move inside me. He began to move over my flesh again as his hands massaged my shoulders and back and his mouth nuzzled my ear lobe. His hands felt good against me; I didn't want this to end. Too soon, his hands moved downward to my cock, stroking it as he gently rubbed my balls together. His cock swelled against my ass as I grew harder from his attention. I moaned as he quickened his pace, leaking precum, wanting more. His fingers felt so good as they rubbed against my slit. He quickened his pace, moving his hand along my length as my cock came fully erect. I was ready to come when he stopped stroking me and pulled his hands away.

"Please master, please don't stop. Just a little more," I begged.

"Soon," he promised. "I decide when you come, if you come. It is not time for you yet."

He guided me off of his lap as he said "On your knees again."

This time I was more confident as I took his half-erect cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his head and drew him in deep. He quickly swelled under my attention as I moved my mouth back and forth over him and stroked him with my tongue. I enjoyed it more this time, took pleasure in the effect that I had on him. When his cock was fully erect again, he pushed me away from it.

"It's time," he said. "Time for me to take you."

He handed me the pot of salve and instructed me to spread it onto his cock.

"Cover it well and this will go easier for you."

I shivered as I wondered how this cock could possible fit inside me. As soon as I finished, he directed me to lie on my back on the bed.

"You will look in my eyes as I enter you. Close your eyes or look away and I will punish you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master."

He pushed my knees against my chest and placed a cushion under my pelvis. He grasped the rod and pulled it from my bowels.

"You will not need this again tonight."

As I felt his cock at my entrance he said, "Tell me how you feel."

"I feel empty, but also afraid. You are so large and I am so small."

He laughed. "I will fit in you well enough. Relax and push out a bit and this will be easier for you."

I said, "Yes, master," but I didn't really believe him.

I knew I should obey and I tried to relax, but my sphincter clenched tight against what was to come. My master pushed against me and I felt him moving into my opening.

He stroked my limp cock as he said, "Relax! I do not wish to hurt you, but I will enter you now."

He took my hips in his hands as he pushed against me again. With a violent plunge he forced his way through my ring of muscle.

!!!!!PAIN!!!!!

I felt like I was being split in two as my master forced his way inside. I screamed, and my master slapped me. "I told you it would be easier if you relaxed, but I will have you and you will not scream." He pushed in a little further, and I sobbed but bit back another scream. I wanted to run away, to get out of this unbearable situation, but that was impossible. I wanted to look away, to close my eyes and pretend that this wasn't happening to me, but even that was denied me. Instead, I was compelled to stare at my master's face while my master looked at me with lust and triumph.


Jason's First Night



My master pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside me. The pressure eased a bit, and I thought that maybe the worst was over. Then he surged back in again, advancing a little further and the pain was even greater than before. I felt every ridge, every vein of his cock as he pushed past my ring. Over and over, my master pulled out and pushed in again. With each surge, I thought my master had gone as deep as he could go, and with each surge, my master advanced a little bit deeper. Finally, I felt his scrotum against mine and knew that he could go no further.

I was full in a way that I had never been full before; consumed by a whirlwind of sensations and emotions. The pain of the entrance was fading now, giving way to feelings of pressure and fullness and even arousal. My master paused for a moment, lowered himself over me, and forced his tongue into my mouth again. Another blow from the strap reminded me that this was for my master's pleasure and not my own. I reached to caress my master again and opened my mouth to the kiss. I moved under him, wrapping my legs around him, compelled to participate in my own deflowering. 

My master started stroking into me now, pulling out most of the way before sliding deep again, slowly and powerfully. I discovered that when I angled properly, his cock sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me. My cock swelled again and my master pumped it in time with his strokes. To my surprise, the discomfort was gone. 

I moved against my master, wanting his cock to probe deeper and harder, feeling the heat, the passion and desire rising within me. I needed more, a release I didn't understand, sensations I couldn't control. I couldn't breathe; my vision went dark as I rode the pleasure coursing over me.

I felt my master grab my hips as his cock swelled and stabbed impossibly deeper into me. He froze and spurted liquid fire deep into my bowels. He paused for a moment, breathing hard. I needed release, needed him to continue, hoped that he wouldn't stop now. His hands started moving over me again, stroking my cock and rubbing my chest. His mouth and tongue moved over my face and ears, down onto my chest as I writhed against him.

"Please," I begged him.

"Tell me what you need."

"Please master, please let me come."

He stroked my cock faster now, rubbing his thumb under its head. He tweaked my nipple with his teeth. The pain and pleasure shot straight from nipple to cock.

"Now you may come," my master hissed.

I felt my testicles contract as a wave of ecstasy swept through me. My cock erupted over my chest and belly, splattering us with my cum. My master smeared the cum over my chest with his hands. He scooped some onto his fingers and fed them into my mouth. I thought to turn my head, but I knew that I couldn't refuse this. I sucked on my master's fingers and for the first time in my life tasted the bitter salty flavor of my own cum. He scooped some more on to his fingers and placed them into my mouth. He kissed me, running his tongue in my mouth and over my tongue as he tasted the cum he had placed there.

I thought that my first experience with another man was over, with a better ending and more pleasure than I had thought possible. Then I felt my master move again, and I realized, to my dismay, that my master's cock had become hard inside me once more. I had felt pleasure, had even enjoyed the sex in a way, but now I was sore and tired. I was not used to such treatment; I still burned from the blows of the strap, my anus was sore and chafed, and I was ready for this to end. I wanted time to think, time to be alone, time to recover, but I knew that my needs, my desires, had no meaning here.

He pinned me to the bed, my legs over my head as he started pumping into me again. His hands grasped my ass cheeks as he rammed into me. I squirmed against him, trying to lessen the discomfort, trying to find a position that might relieve my sore flesh, but I could not move. My master controlled me and held me in place, thrusting and squeezing and suckling harder and harder as his passions mounted again. His cock churned in his cum, ravaging my bowels, relentlessly plundering me. Faster and faster he plunged, sweat dripping onto me, driving into me harder and deeper, his mouth frantic on my body, his hands grasping and pulling. In and out, in and out, I was beyond responding now, but he no longer seemed to care. Finally, my master let out a yell, squeezed me tight, and erupted deep inside me once again. I held my breath, wondering if this time my master might finally be finished, relieved as I felt him go soft.

After a few minutes, he rolled off of me, coming out with a soft pop. He pulled my back against his front, spoon style, wrapped an arm around my chest and idly fingered my nipples. As my master drifted off to sleep, I thought about what had just happened to me. I was hot and sweaty, sticky from my own cum, my master's spunk flowing out of me, welts stinging as my master pressed against me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse myself, to soak in the baths and rub salve on my aches and sore muscles. 

As my master slept, I started to move away, that I might take care of myself. My master tightened his grip, pulling me back into himself.

"Lie still until I need you again."

The frescoes were on the wall in front of me, filled with possibilities. I understood the pictures better now, understood my place in this household. I stared into the night, my master idly playing with me, his cock resting against my sore backside and wondered what else my nights might bring.

.......................

Hugs and kisses to sr71plt for all of his help improving my first story.