Zelamir

Sejanus

– The Traitor's Son –

Chapter 1

(chapter I)

Yet the feel of a regime under threat had been palpable throughout his journey to Capri. The naval squadron lying close off shore, the long sleek hulls of the galleys reflected in the almost unmoving sea, elegant and beautiful until the they had drawn close enough to catch the stink from the rowing benches, the double guard of marines at the single landing place, hard men in full battle gear, all suggested Tiberius and his rule were under threat rather than, as they truly were, triumphant.

"I can trust no one, no one."

The man who was Emperor of Rome stood naked, waste deep in the pool, beads of water glinting on the thick dark hair that matted his powerful chest, staring at him through cold distrustful eyes.

"Sejanus who I made my companion in power and who I was going to bring into the my own family betrays me. If he had been content to wait who knows what might have been open to him. But no, he must snatch at the prize as many have before him and many will in the future and to what end? What has the supreme power brought me.?"

Crastus glanced round at the vast marble lined pool, the imperial villa towering behind it, the crowd of beautiful naked boys, lithe limbed and attentive, hovering eagerly about them and thought that power seemed to have it's compensations. Then his eyes went back to the emperor's closed frightened face disfigured by a mass of angry white tipped pimples and he wondered if they were enough.

It was not the first time that Crastinus had been summoned by the Emperor to get his instructions direct from himself. He thought the man looked more under strain and more frightened than in the past. Certainly the pimples that on earlier occasions had been a mere occasional blemish now covered Tiberius's face with a livid rash of pustules. It was clear that Sejanus's rebellion had hit the man hard.

"You have some special task for me Sir?" Crastus asked. Experience had taught him that once the Emperor began to talk about the burdens of his office he would prose on in an incoherent disjointed sort of way indefinitely unless checked.

Tiberius made a small gesture of assent with his hand and one of the boys mistaking it's meaning slipped with a flash of smooth brown limbs from the side of the pool into the water. and began to swim towards him. A couple of yards from his master he jack knifed, for an instant his tight boy's bum broke the surface of the water, and then fish like he swam submerged, his hands pressed to his sides, propelling himself forwards with small kicks of his bare feet. Crastus watched as his slim body, it's outline distorted by the ripples of the clear water approached Tiberius's crutch his head thrown back ready to nuzzle his master's flaccid cock and heavy balls. Crastus resigned himself to a long wait before the Emperor would be ready to give him his instructions. However it was soon clear that Tiberius did not wish to postpone the business immediately in hand. Turning slightly he reached out his left hand and seizing the boy by his hair held the child firmly under the water. The boy's feet scrabbled desperately on the floor of the pool as the Emperor turned his attention back to Crastus.

"I have indeed Crastus," he said apparently oblivious of the increasingly frantic struggles of the boy whose head he continued to hold beneath the water. "In so serious a case of rebellion as Sejanus's it is not enough that the man himself should perish, his whole family must be expunged from the face of the earth."

"His son and daughter have both been disposed of Sir and their bodies displayed to the mob.."

Crastus could see the boy had grasped Tiberius 's hand with both of his and was trying to break the man's grip on his head. .

"I know Crastus but here is another child, a boy, still younger than those two whom Sejanus loved the most and kept in the country to preserve him from the temptations of the City and the Court. I did not myself know of this but the freeman in whose charge he left the child sent a messenger to me after the plot was unmasked informing me of the boy's existence and asking me what was to be done with him. I wish you to look after the matter for me."

"A very loyal man, that freeman of Sejanus's," Crastus observed dryly.

"Yes, yes," replied Tiberius oblivious to the sarcasm in the other's voice. "I would wish him to be rewarded. Certainly he may be left to manage the farm for the state. But first Sejanus's son must be killed."

The boy had ceased to struggle. Tiberius released his hold and the lad's body sank gently down until it floated just clear of the floor of the pool.

"It will be done Sir. Where…"

"A villa just outside Perugia. Sail back to Rome. Pick up your men there and then…"

Crastus said nothing. He bowed and turned to go.

"Crastus," Tiberius called after him. "The two children… They were very young. I know convention says that a virgin may not be executed did you…"

Crastus turned and stared at his employer coldly.

"Neither were virgins when they died Sir," he said grimly. "I can vouch for that." Tiberius grinned wolfishly at this reply.

"Good excellent," he said, "I am glad your trade, grim as it is, has it's little pleasures. Now Titus escort our faithful friend to the shore. We must not let so important a servant of the state be killed by over zealous guards."

A fat man wearing a spotless toga waddled forward from the shadows and touched Crastus's arm. Tiberius clapped his hands and there were a series of splashes and squeals as the attendant boys threw themselves into the pool eager to show their devotion to their master.

"I hope," Titus remarked as he escorted Crastus down the narrow path to the islands only landing place, " that he didn't drown that boy. Decent quality ones are getting harder to come by all the time and the price is rising. What we need is a good foreign war or a revolt in one of the provinces. Either of those would flood the market with fresh stock fast enough."

"You won't get much out of the treason trials then?" Crastus enquired absently. He was not really interested in this fat old ponce's problems. His mind was busy considering the new task he had just been set.

"Not much to the purpose," Titus lamented. "We get three quarters of the accused's property including his slaves but what our Emperor wants is fresh young boys and what we get generally maybe young but hardly fresh. If we could have the man's sons it might help a bit but they either get passed to you and your colleagues to dispose of or are allowed to live in poverty. Still it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good."

"It's a busy time for me," Crastus admitted moodily, "but not a particularly profitable one. I just get what the criminal has about him when he dies and that's often precious little especially with the young one's. What good is a doll or a toy soldier to me?"

"It's better mind you with the older one's," he continued. "They wear rings and things which they press on me to try to persuade me to make their deaths easier." His eyes rested for a moment on Titus's silver knight's ring. "It's the informers who do best. A quarter of the accused property. You can get rich on that."

"But you make enemies," Titus remarked, "A change in the wind and you stand accused and then it's slit your wrists or face a visit from you. At least your job is a steady one."

"I've never been short of work," Crastus agreed with a harsh laugh.

"And never will be. But me, if the emperor's tastes should change or anything I would be finished at once and meanwhile I have to try to keep him satisfied and he's got more demanding since Sejanus's plot broke."

The two men, the executioner and the pimp, the two most important officers of state in a tyranny, walked on in silence each bewailing to himself the hardness of his own lot.

The path that was cut into the side of the cliff turned sharply to the right. Below them now was the cove that formed the only landing place on the whole island, the fierce Mediterranean sun glinting on the almost still water. Crastus saw that since he had landed a small fishing vessel had arrived and moored behind his own boat. A skinny looking youth was trudging up the path towards them two large baskets of fish hanging from either end of the wooden yoke that rested across his narrow shoulders his only clothing a brief threadbare tunic. Bent under his heavy burden his eyes fixed on the ground as he laboured upwards the lad was clearly unaware of the two men.

"Watch where you're going boy," Titus growled. Startled the boy glanced up. Crastus saw his eyes widen with terror as he saw the two men looming over him. The boy stumbled to a halt and pressed himself against the cliff face to allow the two men to pass.

"Stupid little oaf," Titus continued slapping the boy hard across his face. "I'll give you a taste of the whip this evening to teach you to keep out of the way of your betters."

The boy said nothing and made not attempt to ward off the blows with which Titus punctuated this threat. He just stood there head bowed tears streaming down his face sobbing hopelessly.

"Look at this useless brute Crastus," Titus said reaching out and lifting the boy's tunic up to reveal a hairless crutch and a chest so thin that every bone in his rib cage was clearly visible. "Scrawny little runt isn't he? And look at his face." He caught hold of the boy by his chin and roughly pushed his head back. "I don't think I've ever seen an uglier stupider boy. But do you know if I had to replace him it would cost me perhaps a hundred denarius in the market. More than half the price of a decent mule. The worlds gone mad if you ask me."

Titus glared at the boy in silence for a second or two apparently rendered speechless by the false values of the moment.

"Oh get up to the kitchens with you. I'll have the skin from your shoulders later on." Titus swung the starveling boy round and helped him on his way with a sharp kick up his backside. For a fat man he was quite agile on his feet.

(chapter II)

The four riders reigned in their horses at the point the track joined the road and consulted together for a moment. Then they wheeled off the road and began to trot briskly along the track their horses hooves casting up behind them a reddish cloud of dust. Members of a slave gang hoeing the dry baked earth between the olive trees turned to watch them until the shouts of the overseer and the crack of his whip drove them back to their work.

The horsemen did not look pleasant men.. All four of them were big man with hard faces and three of them had short swords hanging from their belts. There was something about them vaguely suggestive of the military although they were not in uniform. Despite their lack of uniform the grooms at the various imperial post stations where they had changed horses seemed to know them well and had brought out fresh mounts for them with a speed that suggested that they were eager to send them on their way and to be rid of them. The leader of this small band was Crastus and he was the only man that did not carry a sword.

When they trotted through the gateway into the farmyard it was clear that word had arrived ahead of them of their approach. A short well fed freedman stood ready to greet them and slaves were standing by to take their horses. The three men reigned in their mounts and slid from their saddles throwing the reigns to the waiting youths.

"Well come Sir, welcome," the freedman said to Crastus smiling ingratiatingly and nervously rubbing his hands together in front of him. "My name is Echion and I was in the service of the traitor Sejanus acting as his bailiff. I have been expecting you ever since I sent word to the Imperial Authorities that I had secured one of his sons here."

"Your message reached the ears of the Emperor himself and he sent us to take care of the boy," Crastus replied coldly.

"We have him here waiting for you Sir. We have had him secure for the last week Sir awaiting the Emperor's command."

"The last week ," said Crastus with a slight note of interrogation in his voice.

He made a small gesture and two of his attendants moved forward so that they were standing nearer to the plump little freedman. The remaining man began to whistle softly through his teeth and turned round apparently to take a view of the yard his hand falling nonchalantly on his sword hilt. A look of alarm spread over Echion's face. He edged backwards until brought up short by the farmhouse wall.

"That is some time after Sejanus called out his supporters and indeed after the Praetorian guard declared their continued allegiance to my master the Emperor Tiberius."

"News takes a long time to reach us here Sir," Echion pleaded his voice shrill with fear.

"A long time indeed. It took us only two days to ride here from Rome. It would seem that news of your Master's treachery took five times that time to reach here or did you wait until you knew his attempt had failed before demonstrating your loyalty to the Emperor?" Crastus smiled coldly and his hands began to unknot the thick length of cord with the wooden toggles at either end that held his leather jerkin closed.

"No Sir. No Sir," Echion's legs had began to shake and his eyes watched Crastus's strong blunt fingers play with the cord as if hypnotised. "I am a loyal subject of the Emperor Sir. As soon as I knew of the planned treachery I secured the boy Sir. I swear it Sir. I was in Sejanus's service Sir but I was didn't know of his planned treachery. I would have informed on him straight away if I had."

"The Emperor expressed his appreciation of your loyalty and authorised me to investigate it's extent and to reward it as appropriate," Crastus remarked. He had the cord free from his waist now and was holding it loosely in front of him a toggle in each hand.

Echion gave a high pitched moan and dropped to his knees tears streaming down his face.

"Oh Sir please. I did my best Sir. I have been loyal to the Emperor. The boys been locked in the cellars ever since I learnt of his fathers treachery."

"And fed on the fat of the land and generally spoilt so that if by chance his father came out on top you could say you were just protecting the boy," Crastus sneered.

"No Sir, no. The boy would have starved long before now. I wouldn't do anything to help an enemy of the Emperor but one of the slave girls was feeding him on the sly. We caught her only yesterday Sir and I've had her well whipped and she'll work in a field gang now till she dies."

"I wish all would deal with the friends of traitors with similar harshness," Crastus said with quiet irony. "Now show me where you have imprisoned this threat to the state about whom you informed the Emperor."

Echios half rose to his feet and bent almost double scuttled off round the side of the house followed closely by Crastus and his three men. Echios stopped before a stout door and fumbled in his tunic pocket for the key.

"The key was kept on the nail there by the door," he explained as he fumbled it out of his pocket. "I didn't think any one would dare to use it to help the boy. Once I found what that treacherous girl had been up to I took charge of it personally."

His hand was shaking so violently that it took him some time to fit the key into the lock. Eventually he succeeded and the door swung open to reveal a steep flight of stairs disappearing into darkness. A dank cold smell rose up from the cellars to meet them.

"The boy has no light down there?" Crastus asked.

"No Sir none." Echios was fumbling at a lamp that stood on a ledge behind the door.

"Well perhaps you weren't spoiling him after all…"

"All right you three stay up here I reckon I can cope with a half starved brat with out your help. Just keep an eye on my back."

"Echios show me where he is."

The freedman led the way down the steps the flame of the lamp throwing an uncertain light ahead of him as the flame flickered and guttered in his trembling hand. At the bottom of the stairs a narrow corridor stretched ahead of them, earth floored, it's stone walls glistening with damp. Echios shuffled a few yards along it and stopped outside a door fastened by two heavy metal bolts.

"He's in there," the man said speaking for some reason in a hoarse whisper.

Wordlessly Crastus took the lamp from him and with a jerk of the thumb dismissed him. Echios turned and set off towards the pool of day light at the bottom of the stairs at a half run.

Crastus shot the bolts in the door. A foul animal odour assaulted his nostrils. Holding the lamp in front of him he stepped forward to meet the boy he had been sent to kill.

Chapter 2

(chapter III)

Lifting the lamp higher Crastus saw in its uncertain light a dark bundle lying in the corner of the small windowless room. The bundle stirred and a small white scared rather grubby face turned to look up at him. A tousle of blonde hair, not the insipid straw or flax blond of the North but the deep dusty gold of Illyria, wide blue eyes momentarily blinded by the light, red lips parted in momentary fear, so far as he could judge a pretty boy but clearly a very frightened one.

Crastus moved closer to the boy.

"Who are you? What do you want? He was trying to sound confident but there was a tremble in his voice. He pushed himself back against the wall trying to get as far away as possible from the approaching man.

"This place smells like a pig sty," Crastus said contemptuously.

"I can't help it. He chained me here and I've been here a long time. Can't you take me out of here please. My father will reward you. He's rich and powerful. He's Sejanus and I'm his son Marius. Oh please."

"Your father's not rich or powerful any more Marius." Crastus said brutally. "He's dead."

There was a moments silence. Crastus placed the lamp on the floor. He heard the boy begin to whimper. Crastus said nothing the man was dead and soon the boy would be. There was no point in comforting the child with meaningless words. He had a job to do and do it he would but not in this stinking pit. He would get the boy outside and cleaned up before he had his moment of fun with him.

Kneeling down he could see that Marius was lying on a thin layer of filthy straw tethered by a short length of iron chain locked tight around his ankle. He noticed something else as well, the child was not wearing a silver chain about his neck or gold bracelet or anklet or anything. He swore, to travel all this way from Rome to do a job and not get any additional reward. He felt cheated. His men would be disappointed as well. Their pay was measly enough. The little extra incidentals that made all the difference. Yet he would have expected the boy to have been sporting some sort of jewellery. A rich man's son, the tunic he was wearing although now horribly soiled was of the highest quality, you would have expected the job to yield rich pickings. He must have had some but where was it. Had he hidden it in the straw in which he was lying, perhaps at the suggestion of Pannychis, or had the slave girl taken it from him on some pretext, the bitches were cunning enough.

"Didn't you have a chain or bracelet or anything," he demanded roughly.

Marius said nothing but continued to sob quietly. He did not even seem to have heard the question.

Crastus lent forward and flipped him hard across the face with the back of his hand. A dribble of blood appeared at the corner of the boy's mouth..

"When I ask you a question you answer me," Crastus grated. Did you have a chain or bracelet?"

"Yes," Marius whimpered holding a hand to his bruised mouth.

"Well where are they then?"

"Echios took them."

"Oh did he," said Crastus harshly. "Well the first thing to do is to get you out of here. Then we'll sort that little matter out."

Leaving the lamp on the floor he made his way back to the door of the cell.

"Varro," he shouted at the top of the voice, "can you hear me?". There was an answering shout. "I want the boy out of here. He's got a chain locked about his ankle. Echios will know where the key is. Get it from him and bring it here."

Crastus waited at the door of the cell where the air was slightly less foul. From the corner where the boy lay came the sound of an occasional sniff. It was not long before Varro appeared with the key. Varro drew in his breath sharply as Crastus opened the iron ring.

"Well it's been on him a week," Crastus remarked looking at the band of raw suppurating flesh where the metal had galled the boy's flesh, "what can you expect."

"Come on get up," he continued, straightening and prodding Marius sharply with his toe in the ribs.. "We're not going to carry you, filthy little brute."

Urged on by occasional slaps and kicks from the two men Marius made his way unsteadily out of the cellars. He hesitated at the top of the steps and stood blinking and confused in the bright sunlight. Crastus come up behind him gave him a heavy push in the back that sent him staggering forward.

"Get him washed down," he ordered, "and get that filthy tunic off him. I'm not touching him in his present condition."

One of the men took the lad by the arm and half dragged and half marched him towards the well in the centre of the yard.

Crastus with Varro at his side turned to face Echios who was standing against the wall just outside the cellar door.

"Now," he said grimly, "what have you done with the boy's stuff?"

"Stuff," Echios quavered uncertainly, "I .. I…don't know what you mean…"

"His jewellery, the chain, the bracelet and all the rest of it that you took off him."

Varro without warning half drew his sword ramming it's hilt into the free man's stomach. As Echios lurched forward Crastus drove the butt of his hand into the man's face. There was an audible crunch as his nose broke and his head slammed back against the wall. The man's knees began to give way under him. Crastus twisted his left hand in his tunic to hold him upright.

"I… I…… Took it from him in case he tried to use it to bribe someone to help him escape and to keep it safe for the Imperial treasury." Echios blurted out raising his hands to try to ward off any further blows.

"Very estimable," Crastus sneered, "well the Emperor has made us responsible for the boy now so we'll look after the jewellery as well. Where is it?"

The man hesitated staring round with wild eyes searching for a way to escape his tormentors. There was none. Crastus pulled him forward away from the wall and then slammed him back once more against it with all his strength. There was a sickening thud as the back of his head struck the wall.

"I… I… Haven't got it any more… I had lost some money on the races and I… I had to hand it over to satisfy that. They sent men here to collect the money… I had no choice… They would have beaten me."

Crastus swore fiercely. He balled his right fist and punched the man in his crutch. Echios screamed shrilly. Crastus released his tunic and the man collapsed on the ground at his feet.

"We ride all the way here from Rome to do a job of work and we're not going to get anything extra for our trouble," he said disgustedly.

He drew back his foot and kicked Echios as hard as he could in his face. Then he turned his back on the man and followed by Varro walked across to the well. Echios remained lying curled on the ground moaning softly.

The man who had been ordered to clean Marius up had stripped him and was busy using the lad's tunic sponge him down. Crastus settled himself on the stone wall surrounding the well and stared gloomily at the boy. Not that he was a bad looking lad he thought. Far from it in fact. His face he knew from the cursory glance he had of it in the cellar was pretty enough in a boyish sort of way and he could see now the boy was out in the sun light and stripped that he had a nice little body. A good clean limbed young animal, slim but not painfully thin, a nicely formed rib cage, a good straight back, a tight well rounded bottom with two well pronounced dimples on either side, firm strong thighs. Marius was shivering now and looked rather out of condition which was not surprising considering what he had had to endure over the past week. Crastus could however imagine how attractive he would have looked with the sheen of health restored to his smooth young skin.

Crastinus noticed that a number of household slaves were lurking around the edge of the yard and in the doorways of the house and surrounding barns quietly watching what was going on. He got the impression from their expressions and some muttered remarks that he over heard that they were not at all worried at the treatment of Echios but that they were not so happy about the boy's. The latter would probably come to nothing he told himself. Almost certainly it would remain at the level of sullen muttering and if they did decide to try anything on with three swordsmen to help him he should be able to see off a rabble of unarmed slaves, though if they started throwing rocks or got hold of scythes and pitch forks things might get a little awkward.

The man engaged in swabbing down the boy had come to the lad's rump. He was trying to get Marius to lean forward and part his legs so that he could clean the cleft of his bottom but the boy had frozen. He clipped the lad lightly on the back of his head and then reinforced his order with a sharp slap of his open hand on the boy's bum. A murmur, unhappy rather than angry, rose from the watching slaves but the boy obediently shuffled his feet apart and bent forward.

"Trouble?" The men asked grinning at Crastinus and jerking his head towards where Echios lay whimpering in the dust.

"Yes," Crastinus growled. "The fat little sod has thieved the boy's jewellery and used it to pay off his gambling debts so we've come all the way here to take care of that little turd and will get no more than our wages for the job."

"Well he's not a bad looking brat and I'd say he's a virgin too so there's be a bit of pleasure for us all to be got out of him before you do the job," the man spoke quietly so the watching slaves could not her what was said. Marius seemed oblivious to what was being said, just standing passively still, his eyes glazed as the man worked on his body. Crastinus was not surprised at this. He had seen it happen many times before. Some of his victims fought and struggled to the end. Others, and this boy appeared to be among this category, seemed to become mesmerised with terror and went unprotestingly to their deaths like cattle being herded into a slaughter house. Crastus preferred it this way. It was less trouble. He hoped though the boy would liven up when the time came to rape him.

He looked at Marius appraisingly wondering whether he would be a good fuck. Certainly he looked good, perhaps if he could get a bit of bloom back ,better than merely good. An idea struck him.

"You thinks he's a virgin?"

"Near certain."

"Bring him over here."

The man propelled the docile boy over to Crastus with a series of gentle pushes and slaps on his bum. Crastus levered himself wearily upright from his seat on the wall and began a methodical examination of the lad. Marius stood still, unresisting, as the man's hands travelled over his body. He even lacked the spirit to try to hide his nakedness with his hands. Crastus steadily worked his way down the boy's body, no head lice or fleas, no obvious ear or eye infections, skin more or less clear of blemishes, good even white teeth with a clean tongue and no inflammation of the throat, no sign of ring worm under the arms. He needed the side of the boy's neck with his fingers, no sign of swollen glands. The boy's ribcage was well defined but the skin not too tightly stretched he decided as he took a small pinch of the boy's flesh between finger and thumb. He tweaked one hard young nipple. Marius gave a small gasp of pain but otherwise did not react. He moved his hands downwards pressing the tips of his fingers firmly into the boy's stomach seeking lumps and hardness but finding none. He took hold of the child's small hairless balls rolling them gently between the tips of his fingers. Marius caught his breath sharply at this invasion but made no other protest. Crastus pulled a face as he rolled back the boy's foreskin but reminded himself that the lad had for a week had little if any chance to clean himself. He checked the inside of his thighs for ringworm and then kneeling on the ground ran his hands down the boy's firm slim legs before examining his feet for parasites. He turned round and signalled to the boy to turn round. Back of the head, neck, shoulders his hands moved down the Marius's body stroking, squeezing, probing.

He ordered Marius to part his legs and bend forward to rest his hands on the top of the wall about the well. Again zombie like he obeyed. Crastus rested his hands on the boy's bottom relishing the feel of his cool flesh and smooth silky skin. This now he knew was the iron test. He had found nothing wrong with the boy, but for all that, that fat pimp of the Emperor's, Titus, said about the shortage of quality boy flesh in the markets no one would pay good money for a lad unless there was a bit of life to him. Marius at the moment was hardly better than dead flesh to handle and dead flesh he would be unless he showed a bit of spirit. There was no point in going to the trouble and expense of taking the brat to Rome unless he would fetch a good price on the auction block when he got him there.

Crastus slipped his right hand between Marius's legs and pushed upwards forcing his bottom higher into the air. He used his two thumbs to pull open the lips of the boy's anus. The lad could be cleaner he thought but at least there is no sign of round worm. He licked the tip of his index finger and pressed it into the boy. The lad tensed and for a moment resisted him. Crastus increased the pressure and forced the boy's sphincter open. Marius cried out in anguish and shock.

The slaves standing round the edge of the yard moved uneasily. Varro who up to then had been sitting on the wall of the well, watching lounged to his feet, his hand resting on his sword hilt.

Crastus put his left hand on the Marius's shoulder to steady him and probed deeper into his body. The boy moaned but more softly this time. Crastus probed still deeper and smiled as he felt the boy's body tighten once again about his finger, this time not resisting it's intrusion but trying to draw it further into him.

He glanced round the boy. His little cock was standing rigidly to attention it's tip pressing up against his tummy. A woman among the watching slaves giggled, then another and another. Varro removed his hand from his sword and joined in the laughter that now rang out round the yard.

Grinning Crastus pulled his finger out of the boy. There was an audible plop as it came clear of the lad's bottom. With a laugh he landed a loud open handed slap on Marius's bare rump.

"He's just a slut like any other brat of his age," he said cheerfully deliberately speaking loud enough for the crowd of slaves to hear. There was a murmur of approval and agreement. They might feel uneasy when they saw the boy who until very recently was their Master's son being hurt but they liked to be told that really he was no better than they were.

"Take him into the kitchen and get him cleaned up thoroughly using hot water," Crastus continued speaking to the man who had been washing Marius by the well. "There's sure to be a woman there who is used to dealing with cuts. Have her look specially at his ankle where the iron ring has cut the flesh. When she's cleaned it up don't bandage it. I think it'll heal quicker exposed to the air. And tell her to pay special attention to his foreskin and bottom they're both filthy."

"When she's finished bring him to me. We'll be in the principal guest room. I don't know where that is but that's where we'll be. One of the slaves will show you where it is."

"And keep an eye on what's going on," he added quietly. " I wouldn't put it past this lot to try to spirit the brat away if they saw a chance."

The man took hold Marius by his arm and led him towards the house. Crastus was pleased to see that tears were streaming down the boy's face and that he was trying to hide his still rigid prick with his hands. Clearly Marius had snapped out of his apathy and was now feeling his humiliation deeply.

(chapter IV)

Chapter 3

"Sorry not to be back sooner," he said giving Echios a shake,. "It took me sometime to find our friend here."

"Where did you find that tart?" Crastus asked nodding at the boy whose only clothing was a very brief tunic fringed with tassels which reached only halfway down his bum. Forced to bend forward by Vacco's grip on his ear these totally failed to cover his plump little rump.

"This? This is Pulchellus. I found him washing the blood from Echios face and kissing the place to make it better."

"Oh the bailiff's favourite boy. Better fed and plumper than any other brat on the farm I suppose," Crastus remarked with a sneer.

"He's my own property," Echios protested. " I bought him myself. I can do what you like with my own."

"So you can, so you can, but not with what belongs to the Emperor. He'd be very annoyed if he found out that you took Marius's jewellery that should have been forfeited to him to pay off your own gambling debts."

"You'd only have taken them yourself if I hadn't got them first," Echios protested in a brief and ill judged moment of defiance.

Crastus lashed out with his foot catching Echios on his right knee. The man screamed shrilly.

"Don't be insolent. The Emperor won't be interested in what we might have done. He will be interested in what you have done, should I remember to tell him about it. But you don't want to me to tell him do you?"

Echios stared sullenly at Crastus who moved his foot threatening another kick.

"No… No I don't."

"Say please."

"Please, please don't."

"Well then you'll have to do something for me in return. You'll be glad to do that won't you?"

"Won't you?"

"Yes. Yes I will."

"Well then you can show us the way to your office and there you can write out a couple of documents for me. Varro bring the brat along."

Echios hobbled painfully across the court yard followed closely by Crastus and Varro who kept a tight and painful hold on Pulchellus's ear. The bailiff's office was a long low room set immediately to the left of the archway. It had a bare plank floor and it's only furniture was a table, a couple of wooden chairs and an open cupboard containing a number of scrolls. Hanging from the wall just inside the door was a heavy whip and in a large earthenware pot beneath it were a number of canes of various lengths and weights.

"A bit of a disciplinarian are you Echios?" Crastus sneered catching sight of these.

"How else am I to get work out of the lazy brutes. It's the only the only thing they understand and respect.."

"And I suppose your little tart looks on laughing while you slice up the bums of less fortunate slave brats. It must be fun for you both."

Without waiting for a reply Crastus selected a cane and swung it experimentally in his hand.

"Nice springy movement," he remarked and suddenly lashed Pulchellus across the front of his thighs with it raising a livid wheal across the smooth brown skin. The boy screamed shrilly.

Crastus lifted the cane for another cut.

"Master stop him," the boy yelled desperately.

"That's enough please," Echios protested weakly.

"Enough," growled Crastus, "enough, I've hardly begun. If ever I saw a slave boy who would be improved by a sound thrashing it's that one. Still business before pleasure I suppose. Go over to that table of yours and write me out a receipt for the body of Marius and an acknowledgement that you are taking responsibility for disposing of it."

Echios limped over to the table and seated himself. He scribbled away for a minute or two in silence and then passed what he had written to Crastus who glanced through it quickly.

"That's very good," he said and Echios began to lever himself painfully out of the chair.

"No, no," Crastus said putting his hand on the others man shoulder and forcing him back into his chair, "you haven't finished yet. You see I'm going to sell Marius when we go back to Rome. Premium goods he will be on the market, a beautiful virgin boy. . Marius would loose a good deal of his value if he went to the block with his bum ripped from our cocks and that would never do. You will need to provide me and my men with another boy to keep us amused on our journey the state of whose bottom doesn't matter. So just write out a another note transferring ownership of your Pulchellus to me. I know you've been fucking him but we're not fussy and by the look of you even after having your cock up his arse he'll be tight enough to give us pleasure."

"Never, I won't do it. I won't," Echios said with as much vehemence as he could muster but some how his words lacked conviction.

"Oh dear," Crastus said wearily, "and I did so hope we could our business done without any more unpleasantness."

He placed his hand on the back of Echios head and slammed his face down onto the table. Grasping his hair he hauled the bailiff back in his chair so that he was once again sitting upright.

"Dear, dear, now look what's happened," Crastus said sympathetically, "and you're getting blood all over your desk. I do admire the way you stick up for that boy, really brave of you when you consider what the Emperor will do to you when I report that you only remembered your loyalty to him after you knew Sejanus had been captured. I don't want to make that report. I'm a kind hearted man so perhaps on second thoughts you will…"

"Master," Pulchellus screamed wrenching himself free from Vacco's grasp and throwing himself on his knees before the table where his Master was seated, "don't do it please Master, please."

Crastus was round the table in an instant. His foot thudded into the boy's crutch. Pulchellus doubled over his hands clasped to his balls his brief tunic with it's silly tassels riding down over his back to leave his bottom exposed.

"You talk when you're spoken to brat," Crastus rasped and brought the cane hissing down across the boy's bare rump.

"That," he continued, raising his voice to be heard over the child's anguished scream, "is just a foretaste of the thrashing you're going to get this evening. Now shut up."

"Well Echios are you going to transfer the boy to me or shall I make my report to the Emperor? Come on man we haven't all day."

For a moment there was silence apart from the sound of Pulchellus whimpering. Then Echios started to write again.

"May I go now," Echios asked after he had finished writing. Crastus noted he took a great deal of care to avoid looking at Pulchellus hunched weeping in the floor at his feet.

"Just one more thing," Crastus said easily, "I would like you to show me again the place you kept Marius shut up. Come along."

"Varro bring the slut along will you and the cane too. I am going to have to help our friend here. He seems to have some trouble in walking."

Holding Echios firmly by the elbow Crastus guided him across the yard to where the door to the cellars stood open the key still in it's lock. Followed by Varro and the blubbing Pulchellus he forced him down the steps to the foul smelling cell in which Marius had been confined. It's door also was open. Crastus gave the bailiff a shove and kicking his feet from under him sent him tumbling headlong into the filthy hole. He slammed the door and shot the bolts leaving Echios in darkness. He lead the way up the stairs. Back in the fresh air he locked the cellar door and then carrying it's key with him walked over the well.

"I wonder," he said throwing the key into the well, "how long it will take the slaves to break down that door and release the bailiff after we leave tomorrow. I don't expect they will try very hard. I don't think any of them loved him very much apart from slut boy here and he of course will be coming with us."

Pulchellus wailed dismally. Crastus and Varro laughed at his misery.

(chapter V)

So much had happened to him in the past few days. His comfortable privileged world had been torn apart. He had cried a little for his father when he had been told of his death but the sheer extent of his misery had overwhelmed him and emptied his mind of all emotions but fear and hopelessness..

"It's infected," the women said pressing her thumb into the angry ring of raw flesh scored round the boy's leg by the ankle iron. Marius caught his breath and involuntarily jerked his leg as the pain hit him.

"Mariullus stay still now. I can't do anything if you wriggle about," she chided him. [Author's note: the Romans added "ullus" to the end of a word as an affectionate diminutive both of size and status. Thus if "puer" means boy, "puerullus" means not only small boy but pretty little slave boy. So calling Marius "Mariullus" implies that he is both small, pretty and a slave.]

Marius was well enough liked among the free servants and slaves in the household. He was a cheerful generous spirited young lad getting into all sorts of scrapes himself but ready to intercede for any of them, especially the other boys about the place, who faced a flogging deserved or not. They had been uneasy when Echios had locked him in the cellars and most of them at least knew and a number actively helped Panychis smuggle food to him. They were even more uneasy when Crastus and his three men arrived. They knew of the execution of Sejanus and his two other children and it seemed that Marius was to share their fate. It was one thing however to feel sympathy for the boy. It was another to take action to save someone, even a child tainted with treachery to the Emperor. If you were not a Roman citizen the consequences of such an action if caught would be to be flogged and then nailed to a cross to die in long drawn out agony. They muttered among themselves while they believed Marius's life was in danger. There was even a chance that some brutality inflicted on Marcus would have prompted an attempt on their part to free him. That moment never came. Instead they had learnt that he was to be a slave. They were certainly not going to risk their own hides in trying to preserve Marius from a fate that all of them had experienced.

"The quickest way of dealing with it would be to take the hot iron too it," the women continued speaking to the man who stood beside her. "Burn it out."

"The boss said he did not want the boy permanently marked. He wants to get the very best price for him."

The woman looked down again at Marius's leg with it's broken skin and chafed flesh.

"The infection is only in one or two places I suppose," she remarked. "Where the edges of the fetter bit into his flesh. I could cut it out and it would probably heal cleanly. Boy's flesh mends well."

She twisted round on her stool, turning her back on Marius and tucking his right leg firmly under her arm. She picked up a small knife, the light glinting on a short wickedly sharp blade, from the table beside her. She bent her head and cut down into the healthy flesh directly above one of the puss leaking sores disfiguring the boy's smooth tanned leg.

A scream was wrenched from the depths of Marius's lungs. He collapsed backwards on the floor rolling about in his agony his hands drumming a frantic tattoo of pain on the flagstones. Selia fought to keep hold of his captive leg. His wildly flailing left foot caught her in the small of the back almost knocking her off her stool.

At a shout from her a well muscled half naked youth darted forward and caught old of Marius's left leg. The watching man deliberately placed his foot on the boy's chest pinning his shoulders to the floor.

Selai waited till the boy was still and putting the knife back down on the table turned on her stool to face him.

"Mariullus," she said quietly staring straight into his eyes, "I know I am hurting you. I will hurt you a great deal more before I have finished with you but not half as much as I will if you dare to kick me again. Do you understand"

"Yes.. .yes Miss," Marius sobbed.

"Well to help you remember and give you a taste of what you can expect but only a taste…" She ground her thumb into the ring of raw flesh. Marius's screams rang out again. His mouth was distorted into a rictus of pain. His eyes rolled back in their sockets until the pupils were hidden. Then she turned round and settled once more to her work.

For almost half an hour she sliced away at the infected areas while Marius lay writhing and screaming on the floor. At last she was finished with the knife. Selia opened a small jar of ointment. . She dipped the tip of her right index finger in the unguent and using her left hand to open the cuts that she had incised in the boy's leg, she worked it into the wounds. Marius's felt that his veins were filled with liquid fire. His howls redoubled in volume. The youth his chest glistening with sweat fought to control the boy's thrashing limbs while Selia oblivious to Marius's sufferings roughly bandaged his tortured flesh.

"It should heal well enough," she remarked raising her voice over Marius's screams. "Maybe a slight puckering of the skin but nothing more."

"The boss said we were to leave the sores uncovered," the man remarked.

"You'll have to wit till the cuts stop bleeding before doing that," Selia remarked. "Leave the bandages on for tonight and see how it looks tomorrow morning."

Marius's cries decreased in volume to a low constant low whimper. Selia looked down at him, his face smeared with snot and tears, his body trembling convulsively. She bent down and holding him under the arms lifted him on to her knees. He wriggled close to her burying his face against her shoulder, a thumb stole into his mouth. Selia cuddled him tightly one hand cupping his firm boy's rump the other round his narrow shoulders.

"That's the worse over Mariullus," she said gently. "We've just got to get you nice and clean for your Master. You don't want to think he's got himself a grubby little slut for his new boy do you?"

Marius shook his head slightly and mumbled something. Selia seemed to understand him for she continued.

"No you can't help being dirty shut up in that dark horrid cell." She moved the boy slightly on her lap so that his body was turned away from her. She reached out to draw a rag from a bowl of warm water from the table beside her. She took the Marius's small prick between finger and thumb and peeled back his foreskin. She wrinkled her nose. His prick under the foreskin was coated with dirt. She began to wash the filth gently away. The boy stirred uneasily.

"A little sore my pet? She asked indeed the skin beneath the dirt was red and inflamed. "You couldn't help it this time but you must learn to keep yourself clean now for your Master. A master wants his boys clean and sweet smelling."

"Well that's that bit of you done. The next bit you'll enjoy." She lifted Marius off her lap and stood him on the floor. She put the flat of her hand in the small of his back encouraging him to bend forward.

She washed along the cleft of his bottom.

"You've got to learn to keep yourself clean here too," she remarked sponging his crack with the damp cloth. Marius's prick stiffened and he pushed his bottom further out towards her.

"That's right my love," Selia cooed softly. " Open your bottom up for me. You're going to make a good little whore I can see," she laughed pushing the cloth between the lips of his anus. Marius gasped as she forced her finger further into him and his cock stood up straight and hard.

When Selia was satisfied that Marius's bottom was clean she handed the soiled cloth to him.

"Get rid of this in the fire and come back to me," she ordered.

Marius trotted obediently off, speeded on his way by a good natured slap from Selia's open hand on his bum. He did not make any attempt this time to hide his erection.

Selia watched him smiling indulgently as he made his way back to her his rigid pricklet wobbling in front of him.

"Could he have something to eat before you take him to his Master?" She asked Crastus's man. "He must be hungry and he has had a hard time."

"The Boss has not come back to the house that I've seen," the man shrugged, "so why not?"

A moment or two later Marius was squatting beside the kitchen fire spooning a bowl of oatmeal gruel hungrily into himself apparently oblivious of the bustle about him.

Chapter 4

(chapter VI)

"Come on brat, the Boss is back. You'll have something else bigger than a finger up your bum in a moment."

Crastus's man was towering over him grinning hungrily. Looking up from where he was crouched on the floor Marius could see his cock bulging upwards forcing outwards his loincloth beneath his tunic. He was clearly anticipating with some eagerness his enjoyment of the boy's body.

Marius scrambled to his feet feeling sick with fear but strangely excited. He was far from being a complete innocent. A boy, even a free boy, growing up on a country estate at that time could hardly be so. He had seen boys hobbling about the yard often enough with dark stains down the inside of their thighs. He had heard the slave brats talking among themselves. His father had an eye for a pretty boy and so had many of his friends. He wondered how he would manage the man's thick cock inside him. The thought of his bottom being stretched and ripped to accommodate it terrified him and then it was not only this single man. There were three others, perhaps with even bigger rods, to ram into his bleeding and torn body. But with the fear was an under current of excitement. He remembered the feel of Crastus's finger inside him, the delicious sensation as Selia sponged his crack, the excited gigglings of the slave brats as they discussed their lovers. They had whispered among themselves of the pain and he had seen blood sometimes oozing from their holes but they had at the same time boasted about the size of the cocks that had fucked them and had speculated breathlessly as to whether there would be a next time. Clearly there was great pain involved but that could be exceeded by the excitement and pleasure. As Marius thought of this his own little prick hardened once more. Selia who was watching him laughed indulgently.

"Look at the whore," she exclaimed fondly, "really eager for his first fuck. Come here Mariullus and let me wipe your face clean."

"Grubby little slut," she continued, wiping the oatmeal from his lips and chin down which he had allowed it to dribble in his eagerness to fill his stomach, "we can't let your new master see you like that. Now go along with you and see you give him a good time."

Laughing she pinched his bottom.

Crastus had appropriated the main rooms of the house for his own and his men's use. Marius saw him standing just inside the door of the large room where his mother used to summon him when she was visiting the estate to show him off, her youngest son, to guests. Then he would appear, hurriedly bundled into a fresh tunic, his face, hands and knees scrubbed clean by one of her maids, to stand bashfully shifting from foot to foot while the grown ups asked him condescending questions or worse discussed him as if he was not there. The memory of his mother caused the first faint stirrings of resentment at his treatment. Up to now his spirit had been so cowed by hunger and fear that he had not felt the humiliations inflicted on him. Now the memory of his mother kindled a small spark of anger and rebellion in his mind. Why was he, the free born son of a Roman Citizen, who would be a citizen himself in time, being treated as if he was spawned by a common slave. He did not see slavery as wrong it was a part of the natural order of things. What was wrong was that he should be treated as a slave.

He hesitated. He moved his hands to cover his crutch suddenly embarrassed by his nakedness. The man behind him pushed him forward an open hand against his bare bottom. Crastus turned and looked appraisingly at him. Marius felt his stomach somersault in excitement and fear. His cock that had begun to soften sprang back to attention. The flame of anger deep in his mind flickered and died. How could he feel like that? How could he be excited by the touch of a hand on his rump and being brought naked to stand before the man who claimed to own him unless he was the same as any other bare arsed slave boy about the estate?

Marius moved forward into the room and stood before Crastus.

"Put your hands down by your sides," the man ordered sharply. Hastily Marius obeyed.

"Don't you try to cover yourself up in front of me again boy." Crastus grated coldly eyeing the boys naked body.

"The little bitch is permanently on heat," he remarked with a laugh to the grinning men and flicking the tip of Marius's erect prick with his thumb nail.

Crastus took the boy's chin in his hand tipping Marius's face back so that he stared down into it. Marius shivered as he gazed up into the man's eyes slate grey, cold and pitiless.

"It runs in the family I suppose. His brother and sister were the same, the pair of them. The girl was a virgin before I took her though the boy was not but they both rode my cock like furies when the thing was fairly buried in them."

"But you said they were dead Sir?" Marius could hardly speak for fear.

They are now boy," the man said grimly. "I can vouch for that. The boy hardly struggled. He knew he had no chance when I put the cord around his neck. The girl screamed and kicked a bit, silly little fool, it just prolonged her suffering."

"Yes boy, I killed the pare of them, as I had to, as a faithful subject of our Emperor Tiberius. And I should kill you also, a traitor's son. But it would be a pity to destroy a pretty little thing like you. That tight boy's bottom of yours is too attractive to waste. You'll make a good price on the auction block for me and my friends."

"But remember boy you live only because I choose to let you do so. Do anything to make me change my mind and I'll kill you and it won't be a quick easy death with the cord round your neck. It'll be a long lingering one suited to a slave brat who fails to please his master. And I won't give you a quick release by having your arms and legs broken after your nailed on the cross either. Do you hear me boy and call me Master when you speak to me."

"Yes, Sir…Master," Marius whispered through trembling lips.

The eyes of the man who raped and killed his brother and his sister bored down into his. He could not tear his eyes away from Crastus's merciless gaze. Terror gripped him. His legs began to shake. Crastus released his grip of the boy's chin. Marius's knees gave beneath him and he sank to the floor. An amber pool formed on the marble flagstones where he crouched. He had lost control of his bladder. Crastus stepped back with an expression of disgust. The man roared with laughter.

"You gave the little tyke something to think about then boss," the man who had charge of Marius in the kitchen yelled. "Can we give him something more now. Shall we throw dice like you said before for first go at his arse?"

"Neither you, Grynium, nor I, nor any of us are going to fuck his bottom," Crastus replied levelly. "We're going to sell his virgin bum when we get back to Rome to recompense us for the bother of journeying out to this place."

"The Emperor won't like that if he finds out," Varro remarked doubtfully. "He wants the boy killed."

"He won't find out," Crastus replied. "I've got the bailiff to give me a receipt in writing for the brat's carcass and an undertaking he will dispose of it. If any one asks for evidence we have done our duty faithfully we produce that. As for the boy. Nobody will listen to what a slave boy says and he won't say anything anyway, unless he wants to be killed like his brother and sister and father."

"I was looking forward to fucking him though," Grinium remarked regretfully.

"We'll not be without a boy to fuck tonight. Varro bring that bitch Pulchellus here."

From where he huddled on the floor Marius saw the bailiff's dark haired beauty dragged forward while the men laughed and whistled. It was clear that he had a hard time. A thick livid weal across the front of his thighs just below the bottom of his short tassel fringed tunic marred the taught brown skin. The tunic was itself soiled and torn. His eyes were red from crying and his face bruised.

Marius felt no pity for the other boy, only relief that he was for the moment at least no longer the subject of Crastus's terrifying attention. Indeed he had always disliked Pulchellus, so far as he had any feelings about a creature so much his inferior. A year or so older than himself, the property of Echios, better fed and better clothed than the generality of the slave boys on the estate, Marius could not order him about, hit him or even play with him as he could the half starved brats his father owned. Furthermore Pulchellus was hated and mistrusted by the other slaves. They saw him as a spy and an informer for his master the bailiff. Pulchellus could do Marius no harm but he had heard the talk among the slaves and had seen the bloodied rumps or shoulders of boys whose misdeeds had been spied out and reported to Echios by his fancy boy. Marius accepted that slave boys should be beaten occasionally, they would get lazy and fat otherwise, but he despised Pulchellus as a sneak who betrayed his own sort.

"Give me the cane Varro," Crastus commanded. It was a vicious looking object, about three foot long, it's tapered end split and bound with waxed cord to give it extra bite. It leapt and quivered in the man's hand as he felt it's weight.

Pulchellus threw himself on his knees at the man's feet.

"Master please Master," he whimpered, "please don't beat me Master… I'll do anything you want… Please…"

His desperate pleadings were interrupted by a high pitched scream as Crastus slashed him across his chest with the cane.

"Shut up boy," he ordered. "You've got a few lessons to learn and one is that you don't speak unless you are spoken to. Now stand up and take that tunic off."

Pulchellus scrambled to his feet pulling his tunic off over his head. The cane had raised an angry crimson welt across his chest that was deepening to purple at the edges as the bruising spread. He stood facing Crastus, shivering, his tunic clasped uncertainly in his right hand. The man leant forward and snatching it from him, hurled it to the floor. It fell into the puddle of Marius's urine.

"It doesn't matter," Crastus remarked, "you won't be wearing it again."

"Keep your hand by your sides."

He raised the cane over his left shoulder clearly intending to land a back handed cut across the boy's chest. Pulchellus screwed up his face in terror.

"Open your eyes brat," Crastus growled and brought the cane hissing down across the front of the boy's chest. The tip of the rod had landed across the boy's left nipple just missing the tip but splitting the flesh. For a fraction of a second Pulchellus stared at the wound as the blood welled from it and then the pain hit him. Screaming shrilly he clapped both hands to his torn flesh and collapsed to his knees. He fell forward so that his head rested on the floor his bottom raised in the air. All the time a shrill wailing rose from his shuddering body.

"Get up," Crastus snapped and brought the cane slicing down across the boy's taught rump. Pulchellus raised his face, tear stained and contorted with pain. He began to get to his feet but was not quick enough to satisfy his master. Burying his hand in the boys dark curly hair Crastus yanked him to his feet .

"I said keep your hands down by your side," Crastus snapped knocking the boy's hands away from his chest.

The man lent forward and took the injured nipple between his finger and thumb and squeezed it, ringing further screams from his victim.

"Echios was too soft on you my boy," he gritted. He spoilt you. You belong to me now and I don't spoil my slaves. They might get insolent. You've got a lot to learn and the first lesson is to fear me."

He released his grip on the boy's nipple and licked the blood from his finger and thumb.

"Now I'm going to thrash you," he continued quietly hooking his foot round a chair that stood near by against the wall and pulling it out towards him. "Unfortunately we need you to be able to serve us tonight and to be capable of bearing a load tomorrow, so I won't be able to beat you as much as you undoubtedly deserve but six strokes across your plump little bottom should be a sufficient to show you what a lazy disobedient slave brat can expect at my hands. Get down over that stool."

"Head down and your bum in the air brat. I want your skin stretched good and taught."

Crastus slipped his right hand between Pulchellus's legs and, cupping it around the lad's balls, pushed upwards against his crutch while with his left hand he pushed downwards on the back of the boy's head.

Satisfied he had got the boy correctly positioned for the job in hand he stepped back. He picked up the cane again and rested it across the boy's upturned rump. Pulchellus feeling the touch of the rod clamped his bum tight shut in terror.

"When did Echios thrashed you last boy?" Crastus asked mildly.

"I.. Master… I… don't remember," the boy muttered through his tears.

"I thought so. There's not a mark on it," Crastus remarked, "apart from the two cuts I've given you today. He was much too soft on you. That'll all change now."

(chapter VII)

Crastus swore and kicked the boy in the ribs, the force of the blow lifting the boy's body from the floor.

"Get back up you miserable little runt," he grated. "One of you hold him for me."

Varro stepped forward grinning broadly. He twisted his right hand in the boy's dark curls and dragged him back across the stool. Pinning Pulchellus in place with his left hand pressed flat against the small of his back he nodded to Crastus, signalling that he might resume thrashing the lad.

Marius quietly hunkered on the floor watched fearfully as the flogging proceeded. A beating was not an unusual event on the estate and he had watched many boys over the years having their bums tanned for various misdemeanours. Often such events would attract an audience of freedmen amused by the cries and twistings of the brat under correction and slave boys whose enjoyment of the drama was a trifle marred by the thought that it might fall to anyone of them to play the starring role on the next occasion the cane was brought into play. Marius himself had been beaten on occasion by his father or his tutor in the past but always, as befitted the dignity of a free boy, without the benefit of a grinning audience. Nothing he had seen or experienced matched the cold ferocity with which Crastus went about his work of flaying the unfortunate Pulchellus's tender bottom or the open savage pleasure with which his companions watched the frantic writhings of the helpless boy.

Methodically Crastus laid stripe upon stripe across Pulchellus's defenceless bum, pausing between each stroke to ensure the writhing screaming boy should feel each individual cut to the full, the cane scoring livid lines across the sweet curves of the child's rump, it's tip curling round the firm quivering flesh to raise beads of blood. The men laughed and shouted revelling in the boy's agony, cheering Crastus on.

The flogging was drawing to a conclusion. Crastus lent forward to examine his handiwork He ran his finger tip along one of the welts that marred the boy's smooth brown skin with a line of angry red deepening at it's edges to purple. He noticed that around the earlier cuts the boy's flesh was beginning to take a yellowish almost green tinge as the deeper bruising began to show through. He smiled, pleased at a job well done. Shifting his position slightly he delivered the final cut of his punishment laying it deliberately across the stripes he had earlier inflicted. At each point of intersection blood began to well from the boys broken flesh.

Varro released his hold on Pulchellus's hair. The boy sank to his knees huddled against the stool, his body wracked by sobs.

"That," remarked Crastus panting slightly after his exertions, "has given me a thirst."

(chapter VIII)

He prodded Pulchellus in the bottom with his foot wringing a further howl of pain from the boy.

"Now you've got your blood on my boot you filthy little brute," he said disgustedly. "Lick it clean before you do anything else.

Chapter 5

Pulchellus brushed it to one side contemptuously. His tears were not only of pain but of anger and humiliation.. He knew he was something special. His old master had often told him so. He was the best little tart on the place, the liveliest fuck with the sweetest bottom and the nimblest tongue and now he had been stripped and beaten as though he was just a common little slave brat. He did not want sympathy from Marius whom he knew had despised and disliked him when he was free. He had resented the younger boys privileges then Now that Marius had been reduced to the same servitude as himself he could safely hate him and did so. He hated him because of the slights he had suffered from him in the past. Slights not intended or noticed by Marius but felt and remembered by Pulchellus. He hated him also because Marius had witnessed his humiliation and punishment at the hands of Crastus.

Pulchellus was already, even in his misery, planning to win the favour of Crastus as he had of his old master Echios. If he could do so and at the same time get Marius in trouble it would be all the better. Not only did he hate the other boy. He saw him as a rival. Pulchellus felt no sympathy with his fellow slaves, no solidarity. He sought only to help himself and who could blame him? It was a cruel world and a slave boy's life was of small importance.

They arrived at the kitchen. For a moment the Pulchellus and Marius were unnoticed in the bustle and heat of the large room. Then one of the half naked youths engaged in washing saucepans at the great sink just inside the door saw them. He grinned and nudged his neighbour. A whisper ran round the room.

"Pulchellus sweetie," a mincingly affected voice enquired, "is your poor little bottom sore?"

"Did the nasty Master whip your bum Puchellus," giggled another.

Pulchellus blushed crimson as the other slaves taunted him. Then a grinning naked boy flicked a wet dish towel at his raw rump snapping the cloth painfully against his sore flesh. Pulchellus spun round to face his tormentor and another youth darted up behind him and slapped him across the bottom. Marius knew it was common practice to tease boys who appeared in the kitchen bearing marks of a recent beating on their bums. He had seen it often before, freedmen and slaves, young and old, joining in the process but on this occasion it had an extra edge of violence and cruelty. The bailiff was not a popular man and his favourite and spy less so. Now, with Pulchellus deprived of his protection, the workers in the kitchen took the opportunity of settling old scores. A small boy kicked him. A much larger youth clouted him on the side of the head. Soon kicks and blows rained down on him from every side. Helpless to defend himself he sank to his knees trying to cover his head with his arms.

Grynium turned back and tried to drive Pulchellus's tormentors away from him but as fast as he knocked one off the boy another darted forward to take his place.

Marius unnoticed in the excitement wriggled clear of the crowd about and ran across the kitchen to where the cook, usually a stickler for discipline in his domain, stood by the stove, a heavy ladle, in his hand watching the commotion a faint smile on his fat cheerful face.

"Daedalus" panted Marius and then seeing a frown cross the man's face and remembering his own changed status adding a hasty "Sir". "Daedalus Sir please stop them. They'll really hurt him soon of you don't."

Daedalus began to move ponderously across the room towards the centre of the disturbance. He still did not hurry himself. He remembered a dispute with Echios during which the bailiff had alleged over ordering of provisions and the part that Pulchellus had played in trying to bring to an end this, in his view traditional, perquisite of his office.

Pulchellus was down on the floor. He could hardly be seen beneath the surging mass of boys and youths struggling to get at him as the older onlookers cheered them on.. In fact the sheer number of his assailants alone probably prevented him from being seriously injured. Arrived at the fray Daedalus wasted no time. He laid about himself with his ladle cracking it down regardless on close cropped heads, bare shoulders and bottoms. The boys scattered leaving Pulchellus crouched on the floor, his hands clasped on top of his head, blood swelling from between his fingers and trickling down his face.

"What do you mean by coming in here and creating chaos in my kitchen," Daedalus demanded, satisfied that order had now been restored and following the well tried political expedient of blaming the victim for the acts of the aggressor.

Marius hesitated hoping the some one else might answer the cooks enquiry. He saw Puchellus was still down on the floor while Grynium was prodding him with his foot and cursing the boy out for allowing himself to be injured. Daedalus repeated his question with increased anger. Marius realised that he would have to reply to it although he feared that what he had to say would do nothing to decrease the cooks irritation..

"Sir .. Please Sir, he said you were to send him some wine and he said that it must be the best in the cellar."

Daedalus looked down into the nervous frightened face of the boy and his anger evaporated. He had always had a soft spot for Marius and that continued even after the boy's loss of freedom. That did not mean that he would continue to treat Marius in the same way as the past. The boy was a slave now and would be treated as such. Daedalus could clearly remember the day when the tax collectors had called at his father's farm and taken him to pay his father's debt. He did not blame his father for letting the men have him. It was either him or the family's sole oxen and without that they would have all starved. The fates had decreed that he should be a slave and they had done the same to Marius. He had had to accept that in his time and now the boy would have to as well. It was a hard fate but it was part of the natural order of things and must be accepted. Before he had treated the boy with the friendly respect due to the Master's son and provided him with the occasional the sticky sweet almond and date cakes of which the boy had been so fond. Now he regarded the boy with the amused indulgence which you would accord to a puppy or any other lively young animal.

An indulgence though that had it's limits. A young animal may be played with it must also be broken and disciplined. There was something about Marius's reply to his question that did not please him.

"Who did boy?" He asked harshly

"He did Sir. The man……"

"I know he is a man. You said so before," Daedalus was getting irritated again. He had dinner to prepare and could not spend an indefinite amount of time trying to teach this boy, pretty as he was, manners. He lifted his hand to strike Marius with the ladle.

"Who is he," he repeated. "Who is he to you. Tell me boy."

"My.. My .. Master Sir," Marius muttered overcome by shame, staring at the ground and rubbing one bare foot against the shin of his other in embarrassement.

"Yes he is your Master and don't you forget it boy. Now give me his message properly. Look me in the face and speak up."

"Please Sir my Master says he wants some wine and it must be the best in the cellar."

"That's better boy. Now I'll get the wine. It's the stewards job but he's off on business and he's left me the keys. I'll try to find something decent for your Master to put him in a good temper with you."

He hurried off leaving Marius standing alone in the kitchen. He saw that Grynium had tired of kicking Pulchellus giving Selia an opportunity to practice her healing skills on the boy. She was seated on a stool, her skirt pulled up above her knees, with the boy kneeling between her legs. He had his head bowed while the woman, the fingers of her left hand parting the boy's hair to expose the torn scalp, pored white powder on the open wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Miss please," Pulchellus was pleading urgently as she worked on him, "please just let me have a bit. Just enough to grease me. Please Miss. There's four of them Miss and they're all going to fuck me and I'm sure they're bigger than Echios."

"I expect they are Pulchellus." Selia sounded amused, "From all I've heard your last Master was not much of a man. Although being a woman I wouldn't have first hand knowledge of his cock."

"And no I won't let you have any grease. Not unless your Master says I should. Maybe he wants your bum to be fucked dry.. Perhaps he's looking forward to tearing you. Then where would I be if I'd spoilt his fun?"

Pulchellus shuddered. Selias speculations about the tastes and wishes of Crastus seemed to him to be all too likely to be well founded.

"Miss I won't use it unless he say's I may," he said desperately. "I promise Miss…really… Please Miss."

Selia satisfied the flow of blood had been stopped tipped back the boy's head and picking up a damp cloth began to wipe the dried blood from his face.

"You must think I'm pretty stupid Pulchellus," she laughed, " if you think I'll believe a word that you or any other slave brat says. All of you will say anything and swear anything to escape being hurt."

"Please…"

Marius's attention was suddenly distracted by a sharp clip on the side of his head. He swung round rubbing his stinging ear to see that Daedalus had returned from the cellars.

"If you can spare me a moment of your time boy," the man said sarcastically. "I've brought two jugs of wine for your Master."

He nodded to the table beside him on which stood two large silver ewers brimming with dark red, almost purple, wine. Marius gazed at the jugs. He had only seen them fleetingly in the past, being carried into the dining room when his father was entertaining some of his special cronies to dinner, occasions deemed unsuitable for a free boy of his age. He had noticed however that although he was banished to bed there were always many slave boys of his age and even younger in attendance. The jugs he saw were finely and elaborately decorated. Satyrs with monstrous erections chased young naked boys through wooded glades or successful in their pursuit buried their monstrous cocks in their prey's slim bodies.

"Pay attention boy," Daedalus snapped,. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes Sir."

Marius screwed up his face in to what any onlooker would see as a comical grimace of apprehension. He had seen and laughed at Daedalus carrying out this little entertainment of his often enough in the past to know what was coming to him. He knew people in the kitchen were turning to watch the fun.

"Well keep your hands down by your side then."

Daedalus picked up his heavy ladle and brought it down hard on the crown of Marius's head.

"Are you listening boy?"

"Yes Sir."

"You are to tell your Master that this wine is choice Fallernian from the upper slopes. It dates from the first year of the riegn of the Divine Augustus [it would have been about twenty years old : author's note]."

"What are you to tell your Master."

Marius standing to firmly attention his hands firmly down against the side of his bare thighs, his face twisted in fear of the blow that he knew was to come, recited in his clear boy's voice, "I must tell my Master the wine is choice Fallernian from the upper slopes and it dates from the reign of the Divine Augusts."

"Don't forget boy." Daedalus banged the ladle down on the top of his head again making Marius's ears ring.

"Now," Daedalus continued turning to Grynium, "if the other boy is ready the two of them can carry a wine jug each and you could take the tray with the four silver goblets. I wouldn't trust the boy's with them. They would be certain to drop them. Perhaps they will manage not to spill the wine especially as they know that if they do so their backsides will feel the strap."

"What about our dinner?" Grynium demanded roughly.

"It will be artichokes with fish pickle sauce, followed by boiled pork stew with olives and then figs in honey to finnish. Send the boys down in half an hour to fetch the first course."

"That sounds all right," Grynium said ungraciously and stumped from the kitchen. Daedalus pulled a rude face at his back. Like nearly everybody else whose paths crossed those of Crastus and his men he was ready to do anything they wanted in the hope that if he did they would go away quickly and inflict themselves on some one else.

The men quickly emptied one of the jugs of wine. Pulchellus was sent to the kitchen to get a refill while Marius was kept busy topping up the goblets with wine. The silver jug was heavy and he had to use both hands to pour the wine leaving him defenceless against the pawing hands of the increasingly drunken men. As he poured the wine their rough hands strayed over his body, caressing the inside of his legs, stroking his bottom, fingers toying with his small cock and tiny hairless balls, poking and prying into the most intimate recesses of his body. The men frightened him especially Crastus. He could not look at his heavy strong body and a his broad hands with their hairy backs and thick stubby fingers without remembering that the man had first raped both his brother and his sister and then killed them. He hated the man but despite his revulsion at having to submit to the Crastus's hands pawing his body he found himself becoming increasingly excited and he despised himself. Surely he could not get pleasure from the caresses of the man who had treated his own brother and sister so cruelly but his stiff boy's cock betrayed the shameful fact that he did.

Pulchellus returned from the kitchen with more wine having been spared on this occasion the bullying he had had to earlier endure there. The men became drunker and wilder. Pulchellus circulated with the new refilled jug lingering by each man he served, wriggling his little bottom invitingly as he moved about the room, his lips half parted, his eyes glazed with lust. Marius tried to fade into the background but Crastus soon demanded a fresh service from him.

"Bring the empty jug here boy I want to pee," he shouted. Marius knelt at his feet holding the jug ready. A stream of tart smelling amber fluid jetted from Crastus's cock, only a few inches away from the boy's face, and filled the bottom of the ewer with frothing urine. Marius, who had never seen a man's cock so close before, wondered at its size and the great blue veins that ribbed it. He also wondered how Pulchellus's bottom would accommodate so monstrous an object. Hardly had Crastus shaken the last drops of liquid from his prick and wiped his fingers dry on the boy's hair than another of the men was shouting for him. Marius went from man to man as they emptied their bladders into the increasingly heavy jug.

Varro was the last to call for him. Marius knelt at his feet holding the jug, now more than three quarters full of steaming pee a few inches from his face as the man relieved himself. When Varro was finished a single bead of fluid hung from the tip of his penis.

"Lick it off," the man ordered grinning down into Marius's shocked face.

"Don't hurry the boy," Crastus shouted from across the room. "I don't want to do anything that will cut his value on the auction block. He'll learn soon enough don't you worry."

"Marius give that jug to Pulchellus," he continued, " and come over here to me it is time we got better acquainted. After all I knew your big brother and sister very well," he added with a brutal laugh.

Pulchellus pushed Marius to one side. He seemed eager to take his place. He lent forward the tip of his tongue licking the droplet of pee from the end of Varro's cock and lingering a moment to exploring the man's slit.

"Marius," Crastus's voice had assumed an edge of impatience, "come here."

Marius rose to his feet and began to walk towards him fearing what was to come next but at the same time deeply excited.

Chapter 6

(chapter IX)

Marius felt the man's cock through the coarse material of his tunic, iron hard against his naked bum. He wriggled his bottom so that the man's swollen rod was lying along the cleft of his bottom. He began to rub his bum up and down against it.

"Well done boy .. Go on… Good little slut… You want it don't you, you whore.." Crastus whispered hoarsely in his ear.

The feel of the man's hard flesh lying along the lips of his anus filled Marius with intense excitement. Looking across the room he saw Pulchellus squatting between Varro's knees, his dark curly head buried in the man's crutch. Pulchellus had taken Varro's cock into his mouth and his cheeks were sunken as he pulled on it.

Marius's felt Crastus hands on his body. "Killers hands," he thought, "but I don't care. It is true I am just a tart" and he panted and strained in his eagerness. Crastus put one hand under his crutch and momentarily eased the panting boy partly clear of his body. Marius felt the man's tunic being pulled away from under him. When he went down again there was nothing between his bare bottom and the man's distended cock.

Varro seized Pulchellus by the ears dragging the boy's head forward and burying the full length of his cock in his mouth. The man began to work the boy's head backwards and forwards as he fucked the lad's mouth. Varro cried out and Marius saw him arch his body as Pulchellus sucked and swallowed desperately. Varro released Pulchellus's ears and the boy fell backward onto his bottom white fluid trickling from between his lips and down his chin.

Marius felt the blood pulsing faster in Crastus's tumid rod. Suddenly Crastus jerked convulsively and the boy felt jets of warm sticky fluid splash upwards against the small of his back. Crastus grunted and pushed Marius roughly away tipping the boy onto the floor. Marius knelt there, bent double aching with unassuaged need, his little cock still iron hard, the man's seed trickling down his back and rump .

"Pulchellus," Crastus shouted after a moments rest, "come here."

The boy scrambled to his feet wiping the man's seed from his lips and chin with the back of his hand. He trotted over to Crastus. His prick still was hard and wobbled stiffly in front of him as he moved.

Crastus said nothing but pointed. Pulchellus bent forward and licked the man's spent cum from the dark hairs that covered his stomach and crutch.

"And the boy too," Crastus rasped.

Kneeling behind him Pulchellus cleaned the man's semen from Marius's back, his tongue lapping the thickening liquid from where it had begun to trickle down the cleft of the other boys bum.

"Well Crastus," said laughing, "you've had your supper Pulchellus. It's time for you and Marius to bring us ours. Off with you both to the kitchen."

"Varro," he asked as the two boys left the room. "Was that dark haired brat any good."

"Well boss," Varro replied with a grin, "if his bottoms as good to fuck as his mouth we won't have anything to complain about."

(chapter X)

"Boss whose going to fuck this tight arsed little slut first?" Grynium asked his hand stroking the boy's bottom. Pulchellus had finished serving the final course of honey and figs and had been called over by Grynium to refill his goblet with wine.

"Well" Crastus said easily, "Me and Varro have already shot our loads so we both need some time for rest and recuperation. I think it's between you and Lucillus. Then after you Varro can go and I will go last of all. I'm the oldest of you lot so I take longer to get back on form."

He took a fig from his plate between his finger and thumb and popped it into Marius's mouth.

"As for which of you, you can decide that between yourselves. Throw a dice for it or something."

"As humane thoughtful people," Grynium said with a cruel grin, "I think the man with the smallest cock should go first. That should lead to less tearing of the brats bum."

"But which of us is the smallest?" asked Lucillus.

"Let the whore decide. It's his rump we'll be fucking," Grynium replied.

"Fair enough," Lucillus said getting a little unsteadily to his feet and pulling off his tunic. "You too Grynium. The boy can't be expected to choose between our cocks unless he can get a clear view of them both."

The two men were very similar in build, heavily muscled brutes well suited to their cruel profession. Lucillus's body however was covered with a thick matt of coarse ginger hair while Grynium's body hair was black and, except about his chest and crutch, less prolific.

Marius from his place nestling on Crastus's knees gazed in wonder at the two men's partly swollen cocks. There seemed to him little to choose between them. He wondered how Pulchellus would be able to accommodate such bloated objects within his slim body. He shivered as the thought struck him that in time he too would have to bear the agony of a man's penis forcing his bottom open.

Pulchellus glanced from prick to prick. From his expression it was clear that he was aware of the enormity of the task ahead him. Indecision, terror and excitement, in almost equal proportions, were reflected on his face as he stared at the two men's cocks already beginning to rise in anticipation of ravaging his tender rump.

"I can't think he can make a sensible decision," Crastus remarked, "with your cocks almost limp. Get down on your knees boy and use your mouth and tongue. The more you wet them both the easier it will be for you in the end because there'll be nothing else to make them slippy than your spit."

Pulchellus knelt down between the men. It seemed by the way enthusiastic he buried his dark head in their crutches Crastus's words had their full effect on him. Marius watched as the boy licked and sucked the two men's balls and cocks. Very quickly the two shafts were erect and seeming to quiver in cruel anticipation of the pleasures to come. Pulchellus hunkered back on his heels, the two rampant pricks soon to be buried in his body, blue veined and leaking pre-cum inches from his face, Lucillus's rising from it's bed of coarsely curling ginger hair curved like a scimitar, Grynium's standing upright ramrod straight from it's base among the forest of black hairs that covered his crutch.

Grynium's patience broke. With a curse he grabbed the boy by one arm, jerking him to his feet he half threw him, face down, across his couch. Pulchellus fell his legs hanging over it's side. Knowing he had no choice the boy hastily spread his legs and pushed his bottom upwards offering himself to the man's cock. Grynium took two quick steps across the room to where Pulchellus's bum was so invitingly raised and dropped to his knees between the boy's two outstretched legs.

Lucillus started to protest and then shrugged and grinned. His attitude saying as clearly as words "it's only a slave brat's bum after all so what's the fuss."

Grynium spat on his fingers and working saliva generously between the lips of Pulchellus's anus. The boy moaned in excitement. Marius saw the muscles in the backs of his legs straining as he forced his bottom higher in response to the man's probing fingers. Grynium dug his thumbs into the boy's flesh, pulling the lad's bottom open. He pressed the tip of his cock against the entry to the boy's hole. Marius saw the man's powerful haunches thrust forward. Pulchellus threw his head back and screamed his fingers tearing at the covering of the couch across which he lay.

Again and again the man drove remorselessly forward, lifting his victim bodily from the couch under the force of his assault, as he hammered the full length of his swollen prick into the boy's body . Pulchellus's face was contorted with pain, saliva dribbled from his mouth mixing with the tears and snot that flowed from his eye and nose. At last Grynium appeared to abate the ferocity of his attack. His movements became less violent as he began to steadily work his cock inside the boy with long deep thrusts. Grynium placed his two hands on Pulchellus's hips steadying the boy as he fucked him. Pulchellus's shrieks decreased in volume and then fell away to an occasional low whimper punctuated by the harsh panting of both man and boy as they copulated. Pulchellus's body began to respond to the movements of the man's cock within him. Marius could see the muscles in the boy's bum working as he tried to draw the man's cock ever deeper into himself. The tempo of Grynium's thrusting began to increase again. He shouted and drove forward. His rigid body jerking convulsively as he orgasmed deep inside the moaning Pulchellus.

Grynium heaved himself off the boy his now semi-flaccid cock soiled with a mixture of cum and blood and shit. Marius caught a glimpse of Pulchellus's bottom, a similar foul mixture oozing from his hole, before Lucillus stepped eagerly forward to take his companions place.

Grynium picked up a napkin from the table and dipping it into a water jug began to wipe the filth from his crutch. Marius became aware that Crastus was once again beginning to stiffen. Excited by the feel of the man's hardening cock pressing against his bare bottom and the spectacle of Pulchellus's multiple fucking he wriggled his smooth boy's rump tighter into Crastus's lap.

Crastus laughed and reaching out dipped two fingers into the bowl of figs and honey. Dripping with sticky sweetness he pressed them to Marius's lips. The boy took them eagerly into his mouth. Marius sucked and licked the honey from them as Crastus worked them inside his mouth.

At last it was Crastus's turn to fuck Pulchellus. He lifted Marius gently from his knees and walked over to where the older boy lay half on the couch, his bleeding bottom raised ready for his enjoyment. Crastus as a consequence of Marius's wrigglings was once again fully rampant and he wasted no time. Pulchellus's bottom torn and well stretched offered little resistance and soon the man's cock was fully buried in the whimpering boy, his hips slapping against the child's bare rump as he thrust. Even now though, Marius saw, Pulchellus's body was still capable of responding to Crastus probing rod.

Crastus's rape of Pulchellus was brutal and brief. The man was soon back on his feet. He placed one hand on the small of Pulchellus's back pinning the boy to the couch on which he half lay.

"You enjoyed the honey I gave you Marius?" he asked with an evil smile.

"Yes Master," the boy replied uncertainly. The tone of Crastus's voice warned him something unpleasant was going to happen but he was not sure what.

"Good," Crastus continued and the three other men laughed in anticipation of the fun to come, "I will give you a chance to have some more. Bring the bowl of figs here."

Crastus once again dipped two fingers in the honey and then thrust them into Pulchellus's torn anus. The boy whimpered a protest which Crastus ignored. He spent a moment or two working his fingers in the boy's soiled hole and then withdrew them.

"There you are," he said holding his filth coated fingers out to Marius. "Suck them clean. There's honey there as well as other things."

Marius backed away. Varro grabbed him from behind and pushed him forward to where Crastus stood his fingers with their noisome filth extended towards his face.

"Suck them clean boy," he commanded and taking Marius's chin in his left hand he held it still as he held his fingers to the boy's lips. Marius's nostrils caught the stench of the foul mixture and he gagged. In an instant Crastus had his fingers inside the boy's mouth. The metallic bitter taste of blood and cum combined with the sweetness of honey and the sour mustiness of shit filled his mouth.

"Suck I said boy," Crastus roared. To the terrified boy the man's face seemed to fill the whole room. Reluctantly he began to suck. Crastus however was not easily satisfied. He inspected his fingers and put them back in the boy's mouth. He inspected them again and required Marius to lick between them.

"Your treats not over," he said, "there's honey for you in your little friend's hole. Get down and lick it out boy. We don't want the slut dribbling filth over the floor."

Crastus caught hold of Marius by the back of his head and pushed his face down towards Pulchellus's torn rump. He resisted feebly but the man was too strong. Soon his nose was pressed into Pulchellus's bum. "They couldn't make him do it," he told himself but then he felt a finger pressing into his own raised bottom. Delicious excitement flooded through his body. He couldn't help himself. He pushed his rump upwards inviting further intrusion and began to lap at Pulchellus's tortured hole.

(chapter XI)

"Marius wake up Marius," Pulchellus whispered urgently. "Pannychis is in the courtyard. She wants you. She's in trouble. She needs your help."

Guilt flooded Marius's young mind. Pannychis the slave girl who had smuggled him food when he was locked in the cellar to starve and no one else would help him. In his fear and misery yesterday he had not thought of her once. He did not stop to think why Pulchellus should take the risk of carrying a message for her or indeed how Pannychis could get a message to him.

In a single lithe movement he was on his feet. Cautiously he picked his way across the room to the door, the early morning air cool against his naked body. Lucillus, who it seemed was meant to be on guard, was stretched out asleep across the doorway wrapped in his cloak. There was room for Marius to step over his slumbering body and to ease open the door open the crack required for him to wriggle his slim boy's body through without disturbing the man. Suddenly Pulchellus screamed shrilly from the room behind him.

"Master, Master," the boy shouted, "quick he's trying to ran away. Marius is trying to run away."

Marius, amazed by the noise and Pulchellus's sudden betrayal stood frozen, in his tracks. Then he turned to flee but it was too late. The door burst open. Pulchellus still screaming loudly hurled himself upon Marius bowling him over onto the floor. Pulchellus was the bigger but Marius was lithe and quick, his bare skin slippery. For a moment it seemed possible that he might escape from Pulchellus's grasp but then Lucillus followed by Crastus and the other men were on them.

Marius felt his arms grasped and he was hauled roughly to his feet.

"What's this?" demanded Crastus furiously. "What's going on here?"

"Master, Master," gasped Pulchellus from where he was crouched panting on the ground. "I just woke up and I saw Marius creeping out of the door. I was sure he was trying to run away so I called you Master and then I ran after him to try and stop him.."

"He didn't," yelled Marius angrily. "He's lying. He told me Pannychis needed me and was waiting for me…" and then he fell silent. Suddenly he saw the sheer improbability of his story. How could Pulchellus have got a message from Pannychis, why if he had should he bother to pass it on and having done so why should he raise the alarm about his running away. He realised he had been tricked and he shot a look of impotent hatred at his betrayer.

"He's the one whose lying Master," Pulchellus shouted pushing his black curls clear of his face and looking up at Crastus with wide innocent brown eyes. "Why should I…"

"Yes of course I can see the brat must be lying." Crastus said impatiently. "You have done well boy but now we must teach Marius a lesson he will not forget but without damaging his looks for I want to sell him for as good a price as possible when once we back in Rome."

Chapter 7

(chapter XII)

"Tell me," he said to Pulchellus, "this Pannychis that Marius is babbling about. Do I remember rightly that Echios told me that she was the slave girl he caught taking food to Marius."

"Yes Master," Pulchellus replied eagerly, "I spotted her at it. I was sure something was going on so I hid in the yard opposite the cellar door and I saw her take food down there. I told my old Master straight away."

Marius wriggled in Lucillus's grasp desperate to get at the other boy's throat and choke the life out of him. The man held him firm his thumbs digging into his thin arms just above his elbows.

"Do you know what's happened to her?"

"Yes Master. Echios had her whipped and then sent her to work in the fields."

"It's just dawn," remarked Crastus, "so the field gangs will be just being marched out for their days labour." . Indeed faintly through the open windows could be heard the sound of shouting and the occasional crack of a whip from the direction of the slave barracks as the human cattle who worked the estate were roused for another days toil.

"Varro you go with Pulchellus and find the bitch and bring her back to me. I'll be down in the courtyard by the whipping post with our young runaway. And get the heaviest whip you can find from the bailiff's office I am sure the boy will know where it is kept."

(chapter XIII)

This time however he did not have that option. Lucillus had transferred his grip to his ear twisting it painfully between his finger and thumb as the naked boy waited sick with fear by the post. Marius saw Varro walking towards them dragging by her arm a slave girl dressed in a brief ragged smock that reached only half way down her thighs. For a moment he did not recognise in the shaven haired filthy drab the brisk neat serving girl Pannychis with her long dark hair and spotless gown. The whip and hard labour in the fields had not taken long to reduce her to utter wretchedness. The knowledge that he was the cause of her misery filled him with guilt.

"Master," he said desperately fighting back his tears, "please I didn't try to run away really Master and I promise I won't ever try. I'll do what ever you want Master but don't do anything to Pannychis."

"I'm not a fool," Crastus grated. "You tried to run away boy it's no point your lying. I should flog you till your back is in shreds but you're too valuable for that so your Pannychis will pay the price for your folly and you can watch her suffer."

"Come on," he ordered Varro, "get her over here and tether her to the post. We haven't all day."

"Master…" Marius wailed.

"Shut up brat" Crastus snapped, "the more you argue the worse it'll be for the bitch."

Marius began to sob wildly.

Pannychis was hauled over to the whipping post the iron fetters about her ankles clanking as she moved. She was secured to it, her arms drawn high above her head, her toes barely touching the ground, her body taught and ready for the lash.

Crastus stepped forward and with one savage jerk tore the ragged shift that was her only clothing from her body. Marius saw that her shoulders and rump were ribbed and scarred with the marks of her earlier whipping. Crastus held out his hand and Pulchellus ran forward eagerly to hand him the whip, a long heavy length of plaited leather that curled darkly on the ground and writhed with the vicious deadliness of a monstrous snake.

"What's this?" Crastus said running his left hand down the girls naked back. "Here below her arm. That's not caused by the lash."

"No Master," Pulchellus said, "that's where Echios used the hot iron on her. He wanted her to say who helped her feed Marius. You should have heard her scream Master an she frothed at the mouth and bit through her lip but she wouldn't talk. I wanted him to go on with it and make her howl some more but he said there was no point. He had written to the Emperor saying Marius was here and someone would come and get rid of him soon enough. So he whipped her as a warning to all the others and sent her to work on the fields."

Through his tears Marius shot a glance of pure hate at the other boy. Pulchellus saw it and smiling sweetly he surreptitiously gestured his contempt with a quick movement of his index finger. Marius choked back his rage knowing that anything he said or did would only increase the sufferings of Pannychis. In his heart though he was laying up a heavy count against Pulchellus.

Crastus oblivious of the bye play between the two boys stepped back from the whipping post. Carefully measuring the distance between himself and the tethered naked body of the girl he brought the whip back over his right shoulder. Then he brought the lash whistling through the air cutting down across the girls bare shoulders with all the strength and weight of his powerful body behind it. The girls body was convulsed as plaited leather cracked against bare flesh. There was a split seconds silence and then Pannychis screamed loudly. For a moment a white line appeared across the girls shoulders where the lash had landed then it deepened in colour to an angry red and blood began to well from the spot where it's tip had ripped her skin.

"Get the brat close up to her," he ordered, "I want him to see the whip shred the bitch's back. It's his misbehaviour that has made me do this to her."

Lucillus forced the sobbing boy closer to the post so that the Marius's face was only a couple of feet away from the girl's body. The girl writhed and screamed as Crastus ripped into her with the whip. Marius felt the warm dampness on his face and chest as the lash raised a fine red mist each time it's tip struck home. The force of the blows made the girl loose her footing and her body swung and twisted under the impact of the whip. It curled round her raising angry red weals on her flanks and breasts and sending fresh rivulets of blood trickling down her body. The volume of the girl's screams diminished until the only sound she made was a low grunt as each stroke thudded into her. Otherwise the only sounds were the rich hiss of the lash as it sung through the air, the sharp crack of leather on bare flesh, the panting of Crastus as he laboured at his task and Marius's near hysterical screaming.

At last Crastus stopped. Lucillus released his grip on Marius's ear and the boy flung himself forward landing in his knees at Pannychis's feet wrapping his arms about the girls legs and resting her head against one bare thigh.

"You'll get away from there boy and get on with your work if you don't want to get the slut another cut or two of the whip." Crastus snapped. "We want our breakfasts now. Go to the kitchen and fetch it up to our room quickly."

Marius scrambled quickly to his feet and set off at the run to the kitchen.

"He seems to have got the idea," he remarked to the other men and they all laughed.

"Lucillus you go with him and see they send us up a good meal. Wheaten bread mind you not black. And tell them to get this whore cleaned up so she's fit to travel. We'll tie her on the mule so that should be no problem."

"Pulchellus come with me. I need you, using the whip allways makes me hard," turning away with his hand resting on Pulchellus's round rump Crastus called over his shoulder "Lucillus tell them to sort out a decent tunic for the boy here. He's been a good lad and he deserves a reward."

(chapter XIV)

Lucillus followed Marius into the kitchen and seeking out Daedalus he issued his orders, breakfast for himself and the other men, a tunic for Pulchellus and Pannychis to be taken down from the whipping post and her back dressed. As Marius stood in the corner of the kitchen waiting for the food to be made ready Pannychis was carried in and lain on her face on a blanket by the fire. Selia hurried over carrying a bowl of steaming water and some rags. Kneeling beside the semiconscious girl she began to wash the blood from her back. Marius sidled over and stood looking down in horror at the mess the whip had made of the girl's shoulders. Selia glanced up and caught the look on his face.

"You may well look like that brat," she muttered bad temperdly, "it's you that got the poor girl whipped. Don't we slaves have a hard enough life without the like of your father involving us in your quarrels?"

A murmur of agreement ran round the room and Marius slunk away back to his corner. Not only was he a slut and a tart, he knew that by the way his body thrilled to the touch of even that murderer of his family Crastus, but he was also the cause of poor Pannychis's agony. He began to cry quietly and hopelessly. Standing in the corner of he crowded busy room he felt utterly alone and deserted.

Daedalus told off a couple of other boys to help Marius carry the breakfast. Jugs of steaming cows milk, jars of the sweetest honey, loaves of wheaten bread, plates piled high with slices of ham, a large goats cheese and jars of various pickles there was much too much for a single boy to carry.

Pulchellus was nestling half asleep on Crastus's lap his head resting against the man's left shoulder. He stirred slightly when the food was brought into the room and made to slip from his master's knees but Crastus caught him by the waist and drew him back. Crastus dismissed the other boys and Marius found that it was his turn to serve the men. Their hands roamed over his naked body as he moved between them. He tried to ignore their fingers as they probed and teased him but it was no use. His prick small though it was seemed to have a life of it's own and even as he told himself he hated the feel of their hands on his body it contradicted him standing to attention, wobbling as he moved, a blatant and unmistakable acknowledgement of his excitement that caused a good deal of laughter and comment among the men.

"I don't know what the chances of us getting him to the slave market still a virgin," Varro said with a laugh patting Marius's bottom as he refilled his mug with warm milk. "He's a pretty boy and you can see he's ready for a man's cock. I wouldn't trust him with anybody and we've got a two day journey ahead of us."

"I don't trust myself with him," Crastus replied grinning. "He's a tasty piece of boys flesh sure enough."

" Master if you want to fix it so his bottom's safe Echios had something he used on new boys that he wanted to keep for the Lord Sejanus or any of his friends to enjoy," Pulchellus said eagerly. "I know where it is. I could get it for you if you want."

He was not too pleased with the attention being paid to Marius and resented the comments about the boys good looks. He was sure he was far prettier than Marius. Without waiting for a reply he slipped off Crastus's knee and ran from the room.

He returned within a few minutes carrying a jar in one hand and in the other a short length of light chain fastened at one end to a well polished wooden peg about the length and thickness of a man's index finger. The other end of the chain formed the hinge joining together the ends of two small semicircular pieces of metal.

Marius's heart sank within him. He had seen boys about the farm wearing the thing. Little frightened tykes, often straight from the market, terrified of what awaited them but knowing for them there was no choice no chance of escape. Sometimes he would see them a few days later, the metal ring clamped round their hairless testicles removed, walking strangely and the butt for all sorts of comments and jokes from the other slaves. Sometimes they would simply disappear. Now he was going to be forced to wear it.

"You put the wooden peg in his bum," Pulchellus said handing the object over to Crastus, "then you snap the bits of metal round his balls and fasten them, you see there are a number of holes bored through the free ends. You can adjust the fitting so it's really tight and then you adjust the chain so its tight as well. The plugs not big enough to tear him or make him loose or anything but the only way he or anybody else can get it out of his bum without unlocking the ring is to tear his balls off." The boy sounded a if he did not think that that would be a bad idea.

"I know well enough how one of these things work thank you," Crastus said sharply taking the cruel object.

"And I've got some grease for his hole," Pulchellus continued quickly.

"You think of everything," Crastus said. "Marius come over here and lie down over my knee with your bum in the air."

Marius stepped forward obediently and lay face down across the man's knees. Crastus rested the palm of one hand on the curve of the boy's rump. Marius's throat was tight with fear but he felt at the same time strangely at peace. It was the peace that came with total surrender. Deep inside himself he experienced a feeling of release and rightness. Instinctively the boy knew that lying there his bottom raised he was signalling his submission to the man as surely and as clearly as a dog does when he exposes his throat to a rival.

Crastus patted the boy lightly on his upturned rump.

"Spread your legs slut," he commanded.

Crastus ran his hand up the inside of the boy's thigh noting the goose pimples that had formed on the child's otherwise smooth skin. Excited by the feel of the man's hand Marius wriggled and pushed his bottom upwards. Reaching the junction of the boy's legs the man's hand ceased for a moment it's upward journey while he teased the boy's perineum with his thumb nail. Marius's breath quickened as his excitement mounted. Crastus dipped the tip his index finger in the jar of grease. Marius gasped at the sudden shock as he felt the cold lubricant being applied to the lips of his anus. There was a pause as Crastus's finger was withdrawn and then it was back, with a further supply of the cool grease, this time pressing firmly into Marius's body. Surprised by the intrusion the boy's sphincter tightened but it's resistance was soon overcome by the remorseless pressure of the man's finger as it probed ever deeper. Waves of pain combined with the most excruciating pleasure consumed Marius's senses. The muscles of his bottom began to contract as he tried to draw the man's finger deeper into him. For a few seconds the only thing he was aware of was the single point of pulsating lust within his body.

Then suddenly it was over as Crastus brutally jerked his finger out of the boy. Marius moaned and whimpered in disappointment. Crastus laughed as he looked down at the boy's rump quivering in frustrated need. He took the wooden plug attached to it's length of chain and pushed it's full length in one single thrust into the boy. Quickly he tipped Marius back onto his feet. The boy seemed hardly conscious of what was being done to him. His eyes were glazed, his breath came with rasping pants and his little cock rock hard shuddered as the blood boiled within it. Crastus reached between Marius's legs taking hold of the short length of chain attached to the peg now buried in the boy's bottom. He pulled it forward and clamped the two hinged half circles of iron around the base of Marius's cock and scrotum squeezing them together so that they cut off the flow of blood to the boy's rigid cock.

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