Zelamir

Sejanus

Chapters 8-13

Chapter 8

(chapter XV)

Then suddenly he felt agonising pain as the iron ring was clamped tight about the root of his cock and scrotum cutting off the blood and aborting in that instant his orgasm. Marius moaned in pain and frustration. His little boy's prick, a second or two before rigid and vibrant with lust, was reduced to limpness. Crastus, content at teaching Marius that not only was a slave boy's body owned by his master but the pleasures to be derived from it were as well as their enjoyment and could be granted or withheld at will, eased the pressure on the ring before locking it in place. Marius squealed as the man checked that the plug was firmly anchored by tugging sharply on the thin chain that ran along his perineum attaching it to the iron ring about his ball sack..

Crastus had the horses saddled and brought to the courtyard ready for their departure. Then he ordered Pannychis led out to where he stood ready to mount. She walked unsteadily and was hardly able to keep on her feet. She stood before him head bowed and submissive waiting for him to decide her fate. Her only clothing was a rag wound round her waist. Marius saw with pity and guilt, for he knew he was the cause of her suffering, that her shoulders and the sides of her breasts were ribbed with weals from the whip.

"The bitch can't walk any distance," Crastus announced. "We'll have to take a mule from the stables here for her to ride on. Pulchellus will have to lead it for her. She won't have the strength to do more than sit on it. At least we won't have to watch that she doesn't runaway."

"What about Marius?" Varro asked.

"He can do some work. I've got some stuff for him to carry." Crastus picked up a small sack that clinked when he lifted it. "Those goblets we drank out of last night. No one will come looking for them when we've gone. Come here boy."

Marius moved forward and took the sack. It was a heavy burden for an eleven year old boy to carry.

"Hadn't we better tether him to one of our horses?" Varro suggested. "He might get lost or run away. Those goblets are silver and worth a bit."

"He won't ran away and he'll keep up because if he's not with us when we halt I'll whip that bitch he cares about so much till he turns up."

"Do you understand me boy? You get left behind and you'll be able to tell where we are from the screams of the slut as I whip her."

"I'll keep up Master," Marius promised bending under the weight of the sack as he shouldered it.

A few minutes later the small caravan clattered out of the courtyard. The four men riding in the front, then Pulchellus leading the mule, his short white tunic the reward for his treachery flapping against his bare thighs. At the rear in the dust thrown up by the riders trudged Marius his shoulders already aching under the weight of his load his eyes fixed on the road a few feet ahead of him. His only thought was to keep up. He was not going to be the cause again of Pannychis feeling the whip. The farmhouse in which he had grown up a privileged free boy, the master's son, receded behind him as he began a long painful journey into the most abject servitude.

(chapter XVI)

Glancing up he saw that the horse men were now about a quarter of a mile ahead of him. They were approaching a small pinewood. Then he saw Crastus reign in his horse and dismount at the side of the road. He broke into a stumbling run desperate to catch up before Crastus began to use the whip on Pannychis.

He felt as though his lungs were going to burst. He arrived at the edge of the wood and dropped to his knees, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. It seemed dark in the shade of the pine trees after the glare of the sun on the open road. The warm air was heavy with the scent of pine needles. The only sound was the trickle of running water and the murmur of crickets . A small stream welling from a tumble of rocks had been diverted to fill a stone trough before trickling away under he road by way of a culvert. The men had dismounted from their horses and given the reigns to Pulchellus to hold while they splashed the cool water over their faces and drank deeply from the trough. Marius's throat and mouth were dry but he knew without being told that he should wait until the men had finished before attempting to slake his thirst.

Pulchellus meanwhile had lead the horses to where the overflow from the trough formed a narrow brook and let them drink. The men moved away and Marius sidled nervously forward. Surely now it was all right for him to drink. He was just about to dip his face into the trough when there was an enraged roar from behind him.

"Get away from there filth," Crastus shouted. "We don't want our drinking water messed up by dirt like you. Drink with the other animals."

Marius backed quickly away. He turned towards the place where Pulchellus was watering the horses.

"Get off. There's no room here," Pulchellus sneered. "Wait your turn."

Marius squatted down on the bare earth to wait. At last Pulchellus led the horses away and Marius scuttled forward to kneel in the mud turned up by the horses hooves and at last to plunge his face into the cool water. Then he was aware Pannychis was kneeling beside him. The two of them, the naked young boy and the scantily clad teenage girl knelt side by side their heads bent to the stream their bottoms raised. Thirst and fatigue had robbed them of all sense of modesty or pride.

"Look at them boss," Varro jeered, "which rump would you prefer the brat's or the slut's?"

Marius glanced over his shoulder. The men were sitting on the grass some way away eating bread and cheese. Pulchellus moved among them pouring wine from a goatskin flask. He realised that when he was drinking he exposed his bottom to the watching men. He was too thirsty to care and he bent back to the stream. Pannychis however was more modest made a pathetic effort to pull the single fragment of cloth about her waste down over her rump.

"Leave that be slut," Crastus shouted angrily, "How can we make a sensible choice unless we can see what is available."

Pannychis hastily withdrew her hands.

"I prefer boys every time," Crastus replied after a second or so's hesitation. "There's something about a young boy's slim hips and tight little bottom that makes my cock jump to attention. A girl's got too much fat on her and in the wrong places."

"I dunno," Crinium said, "the bitch is not a bad looker. I reckon I could fuck her and enjoy it. Come over here slut and let me have a better look at you."

Pannychis scrambled hastily to her feet and stumbled over to the group of leering men. She did not hesitate but Marius could tell by the way she carried herself that she was terrified.

Crinium grinning reached up and jerked the cloth away from her. Pannychis made an involuntary gesture to hide her nakedness but quickly checked herself letting her open hands fall back to her sides. She stood facing her tormentors knowing that she had no choice to submit to their inspection and to anything else they chose to do to her.

Marius watched the girls humiliation with rage in his heart but unable to intervene. Pannychis he knew had saved his life but he could do nothing to help her. There were four men much stronger and bigger than him and even the law was against him. Pannychis and he were slaves, the men free. They could do what they liked to the girl and himself. He was sure there was worse to come but if he tried to help they would hurt the girl more just to punish him. He blinked back tears of frustration and forced himself to be still.

"Not bad," Crinium said now get down on your knees bitch and show me your bottom. No not facing me cow. That's right and put your face to the ground."

He pulled himself onto his knees and pulling off his loin cloth lifted his tunic above his waste. His cock stood out rigid in front of him cruelly demanding. Gripping Pannychis by her hips he pulled her back onto his erect rod entering her from behind. The girl moaned as he rode her body driving into her with increasing force. He caught hold of her shoulders pulling her backwards until she was kneeling upright. He gripped her breasts in both hands squeezing cruelly, digging his finger tips into the bare flesh. Marius could see the tears flowing down Pannychis's cheeks. His thrusts became harder and faster. Pannychis threw her head back. Her breath came in short rapid pants. Her whole body shuddered and then Crinium pushed her roughly away.

"Any one else want the bitch?" he asked.

There was no reply. Getting to his feet he bent to recover his loin cloth.

"Get your filthy carcass out of here," he shouted at the girl planting a hefty kick on her rump. "I've finished with you."

Pannychis scuttled back towards Marius but not quickly enough to prevent Crinium booting her once again.

"I can't think she was as good to fuck as Pulchellus was last night," Varro remarked.

"A girl is different to a boy," Crinium replied.

"Well that's certainly true," Crastus said laughing. "Nobody could deny that but which is the better to fuck."

The men began to talk among themselves remembering and comparing slaves both boys and girls whose bodies they had enjoyed. In time they grew quieter and one by one overcome by the heat of the day they dropped off to sleep.

Marius moved closer to Pannychis. She was lying on her face on the ground. He could see her shoulders heaving as she sobbed silently.

"Pannychis," he said quietly touching her hair softly, "I'm sorry Pannychis. I'm the cause of all this I know I am."

The girl moved so that her tear stained face was turned to him.

"It's not that I'm crying about. It's not what they've done to me. It's that I enjoyed having that man in me. I didn't want to but I did. A slave, that's what I am and that's what I deserve to be."

The boy sat with his hand resting on the girl's head. In time her sobbing stilled and she slept.

"I'm a pretty boy," Marius said to himself. "They all say I am. I'll be bought by a rich senator and I'll work hard to please him and then when I'm fourteen he'll set me free and give me a lot of money and I'll find Pannychis and buy her and set her free and she won't be a slave any longer. It's a long time I know. More than three years but I'll do it I swear I will." Shortly he too slept.

(chapter XVII)

Marius staggered into the inn yard and collapsed to his knees. Crastus swung off his horse and strode back to where the exhausted boy huddled on the ground.

"Look after this," he ordered up the sack of silver and handing it to Varro.

"And you," he said prodding Marius's bare bottom with his toe, "get to your feet quick now."

Wearily Marius dragged himself upright. Crastus stooped to unlock the iron ring locked round the base of his scrotum. He turned the boy round. Marius squealed as the man jerked the plug from his bottom.

"Get over there and empty yourself brat," Crastus commanded pushing Marius towards the open drain that ran down the centre of the court yard.

"Make the slut hurry up boss," Varro called out impatiently. "We're thirsty and hungry."

The boy squatted over the drain straining as Crastus stood towering above him urging him on with sharp kicks to his thigh. Exhausted though he was Marius felt his humiliation deeply.

Without giving Marius a chance to clean himself or bothering to apply further grease Crastus, once he was satisfied that Marius was finished, pulled him to his feet and jamming the plug back into his bottom locked it in place.

"Come on whore," Crinium snapped grabbing hold of Pannychis by the arm and dragging her towards the open door of the inn. "Perhaps you can earn some money for us tonight."

The man disappeared into the tavern leaving the two boys to look after the horses. After that was done Marius could hardly manage to swallow the bowl of thin porridge that was his only food before falling asleep on a bundle of filthy of straw in the stables. When he was kicked awake in the morning though foot sore and tired though he was his determination to rescue Pannychis and to make Pulchellus suffer for his treachery was undiminished.

The next morning the men were in a good humour coming out into the yard, where Marius was waiting with the horses, laughing and talking loudly.

"Pannychis," Crinium shouted, "get out here you lazy tart or I'll bloody your shoulders again."

"I don't see why she shouldn't walk and I ride on the mule," Pulchellus suggested slyly.

"If you made as much for us as the bitch did last night you'd have a point," Crinium replied clinking some coins in his hand, "but you didn't. Just spent your time with Crastus's cock up your bum."

(chapter XVIII)

Leaving the horses at a livery stable the men shouldered their way trough the crowded streets as Marius plodded wearily after them bent under his heavy burden. Skirting the Capitol hill they passed through the meat and livestock market. It was on the point of closing and the many stalls were being dismantled or locked up but the stink of near rotting meat was nauseating. Then the streets became progressively narrower and dirtier as they penetrated deeper into the slums of the Aventine. Tenements towered upwards on each side of them, the air was still and fetid, the noise of a busy city, people quarrelling, tradesmen shouting their wares, a smith busy with his hammer, echoed about them.

Crastus stopped outside a building indistinguishable from those that crowded about it on either side except that perhaps it was, if that was possible, even dirtier and more run down than its neighbours.

Chapter 9

(chapter XIX)

Crastus settled himself on the edge of the bed and his men settled themselves either on one of the stools or on the floor. Pulchellus was despatched to fetch some wine. Marius hesitated on the landing and was told roughly by Crastus to get inside and to hand him the sack full of silver goblets. The boy obeyed and then sidled off to huddle up against Pannychis who was trying to make herself inconspicuous in the corner of the room.

"Well lads," Crastus said cheerfully once Pulchellus had returned with the wine, "another mission completed for our Emperor."

"I hope it pays better than some have done in the past," Varro remarked gloomily.

"I don't see why it shouldn't," Crastus replied. "Apart from our fee we've got the boy and the girl to sell. But the best to my mind is silver goblets. They should fetch more than all the rest put together."

"There's two boys and the girl," Crinium said with a hint of belligerence in his voice.

"One boy," Crastus replied evenly. "I'm keeping Pulchellus. Apart from being a good fuck he's a handy sort of boy and I reckon he'll be of use to me in my business."

A sullen silence greeted this announcement and after a minute or two Crastus continued.

"All right then so there's no ill feeling I'll put him in the pot at five sesterces and buy him off you lot. Is that all right."

There was a mutter of agreement and Pulchellus turned and grinned triumphantly at Marius.

"But the problem is how best to turn them all into cash?" Varro, who seemed intent on taking the gloomy view, grumbled.

"I'll take the silver to Balbinus in the Emporium in the morning. He'll shift them for us. I'll take the boy too. He's not in Balbinus's usual line but he's a classy bit of goods and he'll tell me the best way to turn him into cash."

"The brat doesn't look all that classy to me," Crinium interjected with a laugh. "Look at him filthy dirty and his legs all grazed from where he's stumbled on the march."

"He'll sell well once he's cleaned up and rested," Crastus said confidently. "Take my word for it there's quality there."

"If he's so good why don't you just put him up for auction and cut out the middle man?" asked Varro.

"Same reason as why we sell the goblets through that crook Balbinus. So he can't be traced back to us. The Emperor has spies everywhere and it wouldn't take him long to put two and two together if he found out I was selling a good quality boy in the slave market after he's sent me to kill one."

"As for the girl," Crastus continued, "she's nothing in particular. We'll sell her for what we can get to some pimp."

"I'll look after that," Crinium said downing his wine and scrambling to his feet. "I know a brothel owner near the forum who'll pay three or four sesterces for the tart. I'll take her now. I've had enough of boozing."

He began to walk across the floor to where Pannychis and Marius cowered. The girl shrank away from him. Marius instinctively put his arm around her in a pathetic attempt to comfort and protect her although she was much older and bigger then him.

"Come on tart," Crinium said reaching out and grabbing her roughly by her arm.

Pannychis allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. Marius, desperate at the thought of being parted from the one remaining person in the world who had shown she cared for him, threw his arms about her waist.

"Let go boy," Crinium growled cuffing him on the side of the head.

"No, no please don't take her… Please…" Marius pleaded keeping his arms tightly clasped about the girl though his ears were ringing from the blow.

"Let go I said," Crinium reinforced his order this time with a heavy blow of his fist on the side of Marius's head that knocked the boy to the floor.

"What a fuss," he remarked to the room in general, "about a slave bitch."

Pannychis made a movement to go to Marius's aid but was halted by a sharp order from Crinium. With a final glance over her shoulder at the Marius's small naked body, thin shoulders heaving in uncontrolled sobbing, sprawled on the bare planks she followed Crinium from the room. She was after all only a slave and had no choice but to obey her betters.

Crastus produced a length of cord and threw it at Pulchellus.

"Tie the brat up," he ordered, "now we've got rid of the girl there's nothing to hold him here."

Wrenching Marius's arms behind his back Pulchellus obeyed this command enthusiastically.

"You've got to learn to be good and obedient," he said unctuously as he tied his wrists ad ankles together. "I've been a good boy and I'm all right."

This advice did nothing to stem Marius's weeping and he was carried out of the room to spend the night in the darkness of the landing. He lay there in the cold knowing that he was utterly alone and friendless in a cruel uncaring world. Pulchellus on the other hand enjoyed the warmth of Crastus's bed thus illustrating the truth of his own advice.

(chapter XX)

Eventually Pulchellus appeared at the door way of the room.

"Mariullus has peed himself Master all over the floor," he called gleefully over his shoulder.

"There's no need to bother about him. We'll be rid of him today. Leave the dirty little animal to lie in his own filth and fetch my breakfast as I told you to," Crastus shouted back.

Grinning broadly Pulchellus kicked Marius in his ribs as hard as he could. He had always in the past envied and resented Marius, the free boy, the son of his master's employer, and he felt no pity for him now. On the contrary he enjoyed his utter humiliation and took pleasure in adding to his sufferings.

Crastus took his time over his breakfast. There was no hurry. Balbinus would not be at his premises in the vast complex of stalls and passageways that formed the Emporium until well on into the morning. He ate slowly and methodically. When his own hunger was satisfied he passed his plate to Pulchellus so that he could finish off the scraps.

He wandered out onto the landing and stood looking down at Marius his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Smelly little tyke aren't you," he remarked kneeling to undo the cords that bound the boy's ankles.

He pulled the Marius to his feet. The boys legs were numb after his night pinioned on the cold floor. He stumbled and Crastus grabbed him by the arm to stop him falling.

"Stay on your feet can't you, you stupid slut," Crastus growled coughing him on the side of his head with his free hand. Marius with his wrists still tied behind his back cowered away from him.

Crastus hustled Marius down the rickety staircase of the tenement and out onto the street. They set off back down the Aventine hill followed by Pulchellus, the sack of silver slung over his shoulder. He amused himself by taking occasional kicks at Marius's ankles.

Balbinus was a small wizened man who sat in his stall observing the world through beady eyes that were never still. His shop was not a large one and it's shelves were almost totally bare. Some old rusty cooking pots and a broken statue of a water nymph seemed to be the total amount of stock on hand. It was difficult to see how trading in such goods could yield sufficient profit to maintain even so desiccated and meagre a bodies as his.

The silver tankards were produced and examined. Balbinus mentioned a sum equal to what both he and Crastus knew was a quarter of their open market value. Crastus protested loudly and in the end after some half an hours haggling they arrived at a price about double that which Balbinus had originally offered. Both men had known that that would be the eventual outcome of their negotiations but the niceties of business etiquette have to be observed.

"You interested in making me an offer for that?" Crastus asked sweeping up the small pile of silver coins that Balbinus had reluctantly counted out. He nodded at Marius who was squatting on the floor just inside the door watched by Pulchellus.

"A boy," Balbinus said in a tone of disgust. "I don't deal in such goods, nasty, smelly, dirty things. You buy one and he dies on you or runs away or something. No profit in it."

" I wouldn't be surprised that one's got lice," he continued looking more closely at Marius, "or fleas or worms; probably all three."

"And what's worse than all that he's got a tongue and tongues can tell tales. Take my advice Crastus slit his throat now before he can get you in trouble. Yes that's my advice to you, you're a young man I think highly of and whose custom I value, slit his throat. Fuck him first if that's what you like but be sure to kill him afterwards."

"That one won't be telling any tales," Crastus said confidently. "He's got too much to loose himself."

"Loose! Loose!," Balbinus almost shouted. "What's a thing like that got to loose."

"His life," Crastus replied confidently. "He won't talk."

"His life, what's that worth to him or anyone else for that matter. Take my advice and stick to gold and silver. Good valuable stuff which can't talk and get you into trouble. Still if you have to risk your life for the sake of a few measly sesterces take him to Scythax. His house is in the eleventh district near the Circus Maximus, he'll give you a fair price for the brat."

(chapter XXI)

"Fair for something you daren't sell on the open market," Balbinus replied coldly.

Scythax's house presented a blank wall broken only by a massive metal studded wooden door to the world. Crastus marched up to the door but there was no latch or handle to open it. He pushed at it but it was unyielding. There was a heavy door knocker and he plied that vigorously. He pausing he looked at it and laughed. The knocker was shaped like an enormous penis. He was about to use it again when a small panel set high up in the centre of the door swung open.

"Who is it and what do you want?" A deep voice enquired.

"My name is Crastus and I wish to see Scyrax. I have a boy he might like to buy"

Hr squinted upwards trying to a sight of the person who addressed him. However the spy hole was so small and so high that he could only see an eye and a small area of almost coal clack skin.

"My Lord Scyrax does not deal with casual pedlars of boy's flesh" the voice announced contemptuously and the panel began to close.

"Balbinus sent me," Crastus said desperately.

"Wait." The voice commanded and the panel was slammed shut.

Crastus waited impatiently as the busy life of the street flowed past him. Marius too tired and dispirited to notice or to care about his surroundings stood beside him drooping in his grasp. Eventually the door swung open. A vast Negro stood just inside it, his oiled and hairless chest and massive arms glistening darkly like polished ebony.

"Enter," he growled. Crastus holding Marius firmly in his grasp stepped through the door way. Pulchellus moved to follow them but the Negro put one large hand on the boy's chest and pushed. Pulchellus staggered backwards and loosing his balance sat down in the street. With out a further word the Negro swung the door closed.

Crastus saw that he was standing in a large pillared hall. An intricate and rich mosaic decorated with scenes from the arena stretched ahead of him. Immediately ahead of him two naked boy gladiators fought to the death, one the retiarius had entangled his opponent a swordsman with his net and was on the point of plunging his barbed trident into his opponent's body. Further on more boys fought with each other or with wild animals in a confusion of bare limbs and bleeding bodies. The walls were covered by expertly executed frescoes. On the one side a forest in which again pretty boys played and sported among the trees. On the other the Goddess Diana bare breasted and wild haired was pictured with her hounds in full cry, great black beasts with glowing eyes and sharp white teeth. These themes were carried forward and repeated on the surface of the pillars that formed a double row down the centre of the hall.

While Crastus's eyes and brain were still struggling to take in the plethora of decoration presented to their view, a real boy, quite as beautiful and just as naked as any portrayed in the murals, materialised out of the shadows at his side. The boy said nothing but bowing deeply turned and led the way further into the hall, tiny bells on a thin silver chain about one slim ankle tinkling as he walked. Crastus saw that three angry red welts marred the smooth curve of the lad's bottom. The child had been recently marked by the cane - marzipan marred by cochineal.

As they passed down the hall Crastus saw that the wall paintings changed. Men then satyrs, half men half beasts, appeared in the forest joining the boys in their games and those games at first innocent became more gross until at the far end of the hall men and satyrs both with monstrous pricks were shown penetrating the tender bottoms of their young victims. Mingled in this scene of cruel debauchery were the hounds of Diana who had caught and pulled down their prey, the beautiful stripling Acteon.

The boy ushered them into the central courtyard. A wide marble colonnade surrounded a spacious garden where fountains played and the sun glinted on ponds in whose depths exotic fish cruised lazily. Lounging on a couch in a shady vine covered pergola was an enormously fat man. Beside him knelt a dark curly haired boy, his only clothes a tiny scrap of white cloth between his legs, holding ready for his master a heavily chased silver bowl. As Crastus watched the fat man reached out and took from the bowl a fig dipped in honey. He lifted it to his mouth and chewed, honey dribbling down his chin. The man caught sight of Crastus. He licked his fingers and then wiped them clean on the little slave's black curls.

"Crastus sent by my friend Balbinus," he said rising ponderously to his feet. "In what way can the humble Scyrax assist you?" The man's voice was soft and full of breath like a breeze gently ruffling dead leaves in a winter wood.

"I have a boy to sell," Crastus replied.

"A boy," the fat man's little pig like eyes rested on Marius. He saw a grubby, exhausted, half starved brat, whose knees and shins were grazed and cut. He saw more as well. He saw a under the filth a well proportioned boy with firm well rounded limbs, a delicate ribcage, the neatest little nipples, a pert dimpled rump, reddish golden hair and a face that if the dirt that encrusted it was washed away could make a man's heart melt. He had seen enough and his eyes flicked away. He saw these things but he was a business man, a trader in high class boy's flesh, buying cheap and selling dear.

"Why should I be bothered with a low quality slut like that?" he sneered.

"Clean him up and feed him a bit, get some of the bloom back on him, he'll make a first class tart. He's a virgin but I can tell you he's a hot little bitch.," Crastus expostulated.

"Of course he's a virgin," Scyrax scoffed who'd want to fuck him?"

"I tell you…"

"All right," Scyrax interrupted Crastus wearily, "since I've let you bring the brat into the house I might as well take a look at him. I only hope I don't catch a disease of some sort. Come here boy."

Crastus released his grip on Marius's arm and quickly untied the cord that bound his wrists behind his back. The naked boy stumbled forward to stand in front of the fat man. Scyrax took the boys chin in one hand and tipped his head back. Marius stared up into the man's face. He could feel Scyrax's breath, it's staleness not quite masked by the sweet smell of the honey he had been eating. The man's fat fingers strayed over his head, parting his hair, pulling up his eyelids, twisting back his ears. Scyrax reached his right hand behind him and dipped his index finger in the bowl of honey and figs. He pressed it's tip against the boy's lips. Marius took it into his mouth, eagerly sucking at the sweetness. Scyrax felt the tip of the boy's tongue working against his finger. He moved his left hand from the boy's chin sliding it down the child's naked body. A smile fleetingly lifted his heavy jowls when his fingers closed round Marius's tiny boy's prick and found it stiff and throbbing. Scyrax pushed his finger deeper into the boy's reaching right back into his throat. Marius gagged and seemed for a moment in danger of choking but still he sucked, gazing up into the man's face, his cheeks sunken as he drew on Scyrax's honey coated finger.

Scyrax withdrew his finger from the boy's mouth. Now his hands worked their way methodically down the front of the boy's body, pinching his hard little nipples, squeezing and prodding his ribcage. Now they reached the boy's crutch. Wordlessly he flicked the iron ring locked about the base of Marius's scrotum. Crastus stepped forward and released it, letting the short length of chain hang loose from the base of the wooden plug still lodged in the lad's bottom. Scyrax rolled the boy's two tiny hairless balls, hardly larger than pair of olives, between his fat fingers. He pulled back Marius's foreskin. His face wrinkled in disgust. Then he was on his knees his fingers needing the boy's thighs. Marius whimpered as the man prodded the broken flesh on his knees and shins.

"Turn round." These were the first words that Scyrax had spoken directly to the boy.

The man pulled at Marius's ankles forcing him to raise each foot in turn. As the boy wobbled precariously on one leg Scyrax examined his feet, so small and fragile in appearance, now torn and bruised from his long march. Then the man ran his hands up the back of the boy's legs.

Scyrax scrambled laboriously to his feet, grunting as he heaved his bulk upright.

"Lean forward and part your legs boy," he commanded in his soft breathless voice.

He pulled the plug from Marius's bottom, forcing a yelp of pain from the boy. His fingers pried at the lips of the child's anus and Marius cried out again. Pulchinus who had been left to deal with the plugging and unplugging of the other boy had not been over gentle in the performance of his duties and the plug had chafed the entry to the boy's hole raw.

Scyrax grunted and moved his hands upwards straying over Marius's back and narrow shoulders, kneading the back of his neck.

"Well," he sighed his examination of the boy completed, "I still don't know why you brought him here. You would need to pay me to take him into my house."

Chapter 10

"He's dirty and broken down and if you think he'll make a good price why don't you sell him direct instead of bringing him to me? I'd be ashamed to put the miserable little brute up for sale in his present condition. I've got my reputation to think of. As for feeding him up and the rest of it, he'd never fetch enough even in peak condition to cover the cost."

"If you don't want to do business with me no doubt I'll find someone else who is," Crastus rejoined turning as if to leave.

"I'm a soft hearted man," Scyrax said holding up his hand to halt him. "To save the boy being dragged round from house to house - the poor slut's gone through enough in all conscience, I doubt if he'd survive much longer in your hands - I'll pay you two sesterces for him though I'm sure to loose on the deal. My kind heart will be the ruin of me I know."

"Two sesterces! I wouldn't take a denarius under ten……"

Marius stood quietly between the two men as they argued over his price. He knew he had, no more than any other item of livestock being bought and sold, no part to play in the negotiations which would decide his whole future. Crastinus and Scyrax bickered over his price for some fifteen minutes each moving by almost imperceptible steps nearer to the others sum. Eventually a figure was agreed. It was more than Pannychis had fetched but quite a bit less than Balbinus had given for the silver goblets. As always demand and the quality of the goods on offer had decided the price.

"If by any chance you have any similar merchandise you wish to dispose of in the future you will remember me," Scyrax suggested counting silver coins from a purse into Crastus's open hand.

"I'll remember you as being a man who drives a hard bargain," Crastus growled pocketing the money, "and I'll hope for a better price next time."

"A man can always hope," Scyrax replied and they both grinned.

(chapter XXII)

"Dictys," Scyrax commanded, "you will clean up my new toy."

One of the youths, a boy of about sixteen, took hold of Marius by the arm and guided him over to the bath.

Marius stood quietly as Dictys gently sponged the accumulated filth from his body. He caught his breath as the warm water stung the open cuts on his legs where he had stumbled and fallen on the march. The sponge moved higher up Marius's legs and despite his exhaustion he began to feel the excitement mount inside him. Conscious of Scyrax's amused gaze resting on him as he lounged at ease on his couch Marius moved his hands to cover his stiffening cock.

"No, no Mariullus," Scyrax breathed. Without warning he lashed out with the rod cutting Marius painfully across the knuckles. The boy cried out and moved his hands quickly away from his crutch.

"That's right Mariullus," Scyrax's voice was as soft and sweet as honey. "I paid good money for you and you mustn't hide anything from me. You haven't got much down there but I want to see it just the same. Little slave sluts like you mustn't be shy."

Marius hung his head in shame. His body had betrayed him yet again, just as it did when Crastus had him face down over his knees. He knew Scyrax's reprove was justified. He was just a slave boy without rights or protection who existed only to serve and please his Master.

Dictys moved behind him and he felt the lad's hand pressing against the small of his back. Obediently he bent forward and the sponge touched the soreness between his legs. He whimpered but fearful of another cut from the rod stood still as the young slave washed him down. Soon he was standing once again facing Dictys his eyes screwed tight shut as the youth washed his face. Then he felt hands on his shoulders forcing him down onto his knees. He knelt in the bath. Looking upwards he saw Dictys wore nothing under his short tunic and that the youth's, prick much larger than his own, too was stiff.

Dictys caught his eye and winked. Then filling a bowl with warm scented water he tipped it over Marius's head. Water got in Marius's eyes. He blinked and rubbed them with his knuckles as more and more water was tipped over his head and shoulders running down his back and chest. Then he felt a soft towel wrapped about his shoulders. He was lifted from the bath and set on his feet.

He opened his eyes and found that Scyrax himself was kneeling beside him towelling him dry.

"There you are my pretty," Scyrax crooned softly as he dried the boy off. "Nice and clean now for your kind Uncle Scyrax."

"What's this then. Funny little thing isn't it." Now he had reached the boy's crutch. "You like that don't you. You're a hot little bitch."

As Scyrax rubbed away with the towel he spoke softly to Marius, commenting on his young body while describing and speculating on his ability to please some future Master. Marius stood still the only sign of the effect these attentions were having on him was his rigid little prick wobbling erect in front of him.

Having dried Marius off Scyrax guided him, one hand on the boys slim shoulder, across to his couch. Seating himself, he spread the towel over his knees and drew Marius face down across them.

Scyrax rested his hand a moment on the curve of Marius's bum. The boy felt the man's plump soft thighs with something hard pressing up between them under his body.

"Now spread your legs and push that pretty little rump up in the air for me," the man murmured.

"Good boy. This is going to hurt a bit but it'll make your poor sore bottom better so be a brave boy now for your Uncle Scyrax."

Marius yelped as he felt the mans finger pressing against the rawness in the centre of his bottom. In a split second the pain drove the blood from his penis reducing it to a shrivelled piece of limp flesh. The man persisted and increased the pressure. There was some ointment on Scyrax's finger that felt cool at first touch but then stung bitterly. Marius whimpered and twisted on the man's knee as his finger pressed further into him. Scyrax clamped the boy steady on his lap with his free hand pressed hard down on the small of his writhing back. Dictys caught hold of Marius flailing ankles forcing the boys legs once more apart.

"There it's not going to take long now," Scyrax said softly working his finger deeper into the boy. Marius's whimpers rose to a shrill scream. It felt to him as though Scyrax's finger was a rod of fire plunged deep into his body. Then the finger was withdrawn. The boy's screams abated, his struggles became less frantic. After a time Dictys on a signal from his Master released Marius's ankles. The boy's naked body now lay still across Scyrax's lap except for an occasional convulsive shudder.

Scyrax eased the boy round so that the child was now sitting on his knees his head resting against his chest. He slipped his hand round the boy's waste pulling him tight down into his lap his fingers idly toying with the child's shrunken prick.

"It's over now Mariullus," he murmured softly, "the pain will go soon all together and your bottom will heal. Silly people putting that hard nasty wooden plug in my little pet. There are much better things to do with you than that my sweet…"

Marius wriggled closer up against the man. His thumb stole up into his mouth. He was grateful to be shown some kindness after so many days of suffering, even though as he dimly recognised it was given contemptuously and with no interest in his well being except as a source of future possible profit to his owner. It was better to be cared for even on that basis than not to be cared for at all. After all, as he knew, it was the most he could expect.

While Marius nestled, fitfully dozing, in his lap, Scyrax worked. For a man in his line of business there was much to do. There was a great deal more to trading at the top end of the slave boy market to simply buying cheap and selling dear. Existing and new suppliers and markets had to be nurtured. Intelligence gathered on events in the provinces and on the borders of the empire. A revolt in Gaul, a punitive expedition against an unruly African tribe, a famine in the Caucuses, all could represent buying opportunities to the man with the knowledge to exploit them.. The vagaries of fashion and taste had to be considered and if at all possible anticipated. One year black boys from Nubia were all the rage, the next the whole world was crying out for blonde children from beyond the Rhine. Then stock once acquired had to be fed prepared for sale and marketed.

Scyrax worked steadily and methodically. He was wealthy and successful because he took care of all these matters. His secretary a plump young man whose soft chubby face and high voice betrayed his emasculated condition made his report, took notes of his masters instructions and introduced visitors, soldiers and officials on the way to the provinces, other traders in human flesh and misery, sea captains who might if the occasion arose turn their hand to piracy and kidnap.

At last the final visitor had been seen, the last report considered and it was time for Scyrax to turn his attention to domestic matters. Although even here business and private interests overlapped for his own household served as a training ground for the choicest of his merchandise before they were sent to take their turn on the auction block.

(chapter XXIII)

"You seem to have a full list Felix," Scyrax remarked. He did not sound as if he was displeased with the thought.

"Very full Sir," the Secretary replied in his high effeminate voice giggling excitedly.

As they spoke youths carrying buckets of fine sand appeared and began to spread it evenly over the marble paving stones of the loggia. A great gong sounded deep in the house followed by the sound of many lightly scampering bare feet. Boys and youths began to file into the great courtyard, some naked, some dressed only in narrow loincloths, others wearing the briefest of tunics, all beautiful. As each one entered the courtyard he knelt for an instance before Scyrax pressing his lips to ground before scuttling off to take his place in the swelling ranks of kneeling boys ranged at a respectful distance from where their Master sat. Scyrax meanwhile observed the scene, a benevolent smile playing on his lips, while Felix stood beside him his eyes glinting in excited anticipation. There were however no smiles on the boys' faces.

A low bench was pulled forward and set on the sanded floor. Dictys appeared carrying a great pot in which fully a dozen canes were soaking in brine. He bowed to Scyrax and took his place standing to one side of the bench. The gigantic Negro porter, attended by four burly grooms, strode in a heavy whip clasped in his right hand. As he too bowed to Scyrax a susurration of in drawn breath, an involuntary murmur of terror, rose from the huddled crowd of boys.

Scyrax waited a second or two after complete silence, apart from the tinkling waters of the many fountains, had fallen before speaking.

"First," he said, "we have a new addition of our family." He spoke hardly above a whisper but every word could be clearly heard by all. "He is called Mariullus and he will live in this house and serve here till he is ready to be sold."

"Dictys take Mariullus and show him where to kneel among his fellows."

The blond youth stepped forward and taking Marius by the hand led him over to the front rank of boys. Marius still half asleep stumbled after him. The boys shuffled sideways and made just enough room for Marius to squeeze in between them. There he knelt his naked body squashed tight against those of his companions.

Scyrax waited until Marius was settled before he spoke again. Still he spoke quietly but now their was a harder menacing tone to his voice.

"I speak of us as a family and you as my children because that is what we are. I am your father for you have no other in this world. As your father I care for you and part of that care is to chastise you when you are bad. It is bad for a child to disobey his father. It is doubly bad for you to disobey me for not only am I your Father I am your Master too.

"I, out of the goodness of my heart have bought you and taken you into my household to serve me. But too often my kindness is met with ingratitude. Instead of working hard to please me you are lazy and dishonest. But as is the way with a Father I do not disown you at once. I try to correct your faults, to teach you the error of your ways."

"I can see Felix has a tablet full of names of boys who have failed me today. Yet you are lucky boys, lucky to be the slaves of so kind a Master as I, lucky, those of you destined for the slave market to be trained in my household so that you will realise a good price at auction and be valued by your purchasers."

"But still some of you are disobedient or lazy. Remember in the end my patience is limited. If I find any one of you so sunk in laziness and ingratitude as not to profit from my efforts on his behalf then he will be sent away to be branded and sold for labour in the mines or fields, condemned to a living death of constant labour."

Scyrax paused again to allow the full weight of his words to be felt. Some of the youngest boys were already snivelling in anticipation of what was to come. Then once again he heaved himself from his seat. Knowing that every movement of his was watched with dread by his youthful audience he moved slowly across to where Dictys had placed the pot containing the canes beside the whipping bench.. He selected one and lifted it from the container. Deliberately he weighed it in his hand and then swung it experimentally making the supple rod sing in the air. A shudder ran through the rows of kneeling boys.

"Felix who is the first offender?" He enquired in the mildest and quietist of voices.

"Sulis Sir."

"Sulis come here boy."

A naked round bottomed child of about nine years rose from the front rank of kneeling boys and stumbled forward. He moved stiffly. His arms and legs, indeed his whole body, appeared to have lost co-ordination.. His face was twisted in such a grotesque expression of misery and terror that Scyrax almost laughed out loud and a flash of white crossed the Negro's dark face as he revealed his teeth in a broad grin. The child dropped to his knees before Scyrax pressing his face to the ground, elevating his bum invitingly in the air

"Felix tell me what has this brat been up to?" Scyrax enquired his voice shaking with hardly suppressed amusement.

"Lack of respect to the Household Gods and the Images of the Divine Emperors Augustus and Claudius Sir. He failed to bow to their effigies when he passed their sanctuary."

"Failed to make obeisance to the Gods…… That is impiety and treachery. Does not the boy know the prosperity of my house depends on a proper observance of the rites?"

"He must know Sir but it would seem he does not care."

"Well we'll have to make him care. However I am a fair man. Before I flog a boy I always give him an opportunity to speak. Well Sulis speak up you miserable little brute, what have to say for yourself?"

Sulis raised his tear stained face from the floor. His lips moved but no sound came. Terror had robbed him of speech..

Suddenly Scyrax lashed the cane diagonally across the child's bare chest. A deep red bead of blood began to form where the tip of the rod, curling about the Sulis's rib cage, had nicked the boy's tightly drawn skin.

Sulis howled and clasped his hands to his tortured flesh.

"Don't you know better to raise you're hands when I'm thrashing you boy?" Scyrax demanded in a cold fury. "Put your hands down by your sides. Now keep them there."

He raised the cane above his left shoulder. He stood a moment with the rod poised to strike looking down at the naked child cowering at his feet. Sulis in his terror lost control of his bladder. Amber fluid gushed from him creating a dark patch of dampness on the newly spread sand.

"Filthy little animal," Scyrax remarked.

He slashed the cane in a vicious back handed blow once more across the boy's chest. This time the tip of the cane caught Sulis across the edge of his right nipple splitting the flesh.

For a moment Sulis's mouth worked silently as the pain drove the breath from his body. Then he screamed shrilly. Somehow Sulis kept his hands down by his sides.

"That's better," Scyrax said softly. "That's one lesson you seem to have learnt. Now since you seem to have regained the use of your voice you have an opportunity to tell me why I should not have your bottom sliced into ribbons for your behaviour."

"Master," Sulis's voice was rendered shrill and uncertain by terror, "please don't hit me again. Felix sent me on an errand to the kitchen and he said he would flog me if I wasn't quick and so I was running and I forgot about the sanctuary. I didn't mean to. I won't do it again Master I promise."

"No doubt child, no doubt," it was clear that Scyrax was enjoying himself, "but boy's memories are very short unless assisted. We must ensure that you don't forget again. It seems too that you were more concerned to avoid a sore bottom than to show a proper respect for the Gods. We must take action to make certain that you achieve a better understanding of the relative values of a slave brat's hide and the dignity of the Divine Emperors."

"Tell me Felix if Sulis had been slow in performing his errand how many strokes would you have given him?"

"Well Sir he's a small and young and doesn't cause overmuch trouble. I should think three cuts would have been enough."

"Then six should be sufficient to make him realise that respecting the Gods is more important than avoiding a sore backside."

Sulis, who had been kneeling looking up into his master's face with imploring eyes, on hearing this let his head drop forward. His narrow shoulders shook with sobs.

Chapter 11

"Get across the bench now child. Don't delay things I've got a lot of boys to thrash this evening."

Sulis tried to get to his feet but his legs failed him and he collapsed back onto his knees.

"Come on boy before I loose my patience and double your punishment."

Dictys scuttled forward and with a fearful glance at Scyrax hauled Sulis to his feet. With the older boy supporting him Sulis made his way on shaking legs to the low wooden bench where so many young slaves had suffered. Reaching the bench the child appeared to freeze with terror. He stood trembling his eyes glazed and rolling like a calf taken to slaughter apparently unable to move.

Dictys slipped his arm about the younger boy's shoulders and whispered in his ear while easing him down across the bench.

"Dictys I am most grateful for your help although I don't remember asking for it," Scyrax remarked. Mild though his words were they made the boy pale and cringe away from his Master.

Scyrax turned his attention to Sulis now lying face down over the wooden bench.. He slipped his left hand between the boy's thighs and pushing forwards and upwards lifted the brat's bum so that it was raised ready for the cane. Satisfied that the boy was correctly positioned he stood a moment running his hand gently over the child's tight little bottom. The boys knelt silent watching in fearful anticipation. They knew that anyone of them could be called on to follow Sulis onto the bench at the whim of their Master or of his eunuch, the hated and feared, Felix. Scyrax delivered a sharp open handed slap on Sulis's bottom. The sound of his hand striking the boy's tautly drawn flesh rang out loudly in the silence.

He rested his cane across the child's rump carefully measuring his distance. Sulis tensed under it's touch, deepening the dimples on either side of his bottom. Scyrax lifted the cane high over his shoulder and paused looking down at the slim child's body stretched naked and defenceless before him. Scyrax's massive bulk towering over the boy's small body would have served as a symbol of the despotic power that nature has given the strong and brutal over the weak. All could see, as Sulis in his terrified boy's heart knew, that resistance was useless, escape impossible.

Scyrax waited a moment, savouring his power and enjoying the misery of his whimpering victim. Then he slashed the cane down with all his strength and weight behind the stroke. The rod hissed through the air with a deep terrifying whistle. It struck Sulis's naked bottom with a sharp crack which echoed round the silent courtyard. Scyrax laid the first stripe across the centre of the boy's bum. Sulis jerked convulsively but for a moment he was silent for the pain had driven the breath from his body. Then he screamed shrilly. Scyrax stood waiting until the boy was still again. He was in no hurry. He wanted the boy to have plenty of time to feel to the full every cut inflicted on him. The white streak that the cane had left across the boy's flesh reddened and darkened. At it's edges began to appear areas of deep purple and blue bruising. In time Scyrax knew the deepest bruising would add green and yellow to the colours decorating his victims body but that would not be for some time after the thrashing had been completed.

Scyrax raised the cane again. This time the blow was delivered about a quarter of an inch [½ cm] below the first stroke. Sulis was screaming before cane struck him, his bare feet beat a tattoo on the marble paving, his body arched and writhed as the agony coursed through him , tearing his nerve ends, destroying every sensation except that of the all consuming pain.

The cane rose and fell, the sound of wood striking naked flesh blended with Sulis's screams and the thumping of his feet as he leapt and twisted under the it's impact.

Scyrax with all the skill that came with many year of practice at flogging boys laid the strokes on methodically, each one parallel to the last, each one a quarter of an inch [½ cm] or so below the preceding one. The fourth he delivered exactly along the crease where the back of the boy's thighs met the curve of his bottom. That blow Scyrax knew would burn the hottest and longest. Not that Sulis, he resolved, would easily forget the last two. Slightly shifting his ground he delivered the fifth and sixth stroke diagonally across the boy's already well sliced bottom. Where each of these strokes intersected with the earlier weals dark droplets of blood began to form.

The flogging over Scyrax bent down to inspect his handiwork. A satisfied smile crossed his face. He knew the truth of the adage that a well marked bottom is a well beaten one and Sulis's was well marked indeed.

"Get up," he ordered reinforcing his commend with a slap across the sobbing boy's bruised and bleeding rump. Sulis scrambled to his feet and began on rubbery legs to make his uncertain way back to his place among the kneeling boys.

"No not there," Scyrax rapped, "go and wait by my couch. I have not finished with you yet."

"Now Felix," he continued, "what have you next for me?"

Felix consulted his tablets once more.

"Lysias Sir - gross impertinence in that he…"

Over the next two hours boy after terrified boy was summoned from among their kneeling comrades to take their places stretched over the flogging bench while the courtyard was filled with the sound of the crack of wood on tender flesh and the shrill screams of young boys under correction. After he had thrashed five boys Scyrax announced that he had cramp in his right arm and surrendered the cane to the Negro. As he was bigger and more powerful than Scyrax and flogged with energy and enthusiasm the boys did not notice any improvement resulting from his substitution.

Scyrax walked back to his couch at whose foot Sulis knelt and dropped panting on to it. He lifted his hand and a boy darted forward with a wine cup while another appeared with a bowl of cold water and a cloth with which he mopped his master's heated brow. Refreshed Scyrax reached out and lifted Sulis onto his knees and began to fondle him. Sulis whimpered as Scyrax's tunic pressed against the raw flesh of his bottom. His master took no notice but taking the boy's tiny balls between the fingers of one hand he gently played with them while with the other he stroked the boy's face. Sulis's child's cock despite his misery and pain began to harden. Scyrax hand dropped from the boy's face to his chest. He took the child's left nipple that had been nicked by the cane between his finger and thumb. He pinched it hard and blood began to well again from the reopened cut. Scyrax bent his head and licked the blood away.

Comparative silence had fallen on the courtyard. There was no sound now apart from the tinkling of the fountains and the suppressed sobbing of the boys who had had their bottoms flogged. The last boy stumbled unsteadily away from the bench holding his burning rump in his hands. Felix seemed to have reached the end of his list of young defaulters.

Scyrax noticed the silence and raised his head.

"What Felix is that all?" He asked. He sounded disappointed. "Do you not have any more boys for correction."

"I am afraid I do Sir," Felix replied though he did not sound at all upset. "Two boys I discovered in one of the store rooms Sir, having sex together. That is so serious an offence that I had them confined in the cellar unless they should try to runaway."

"Quite right Felix. Well done. Which are they."

"Nisus and Giton Sir."

"Have them brought here. I will make an example of them both. I will not tolerate such behaviour among my boys."

(chapter XXIV)

The grooms released their grasps of the boys' necks. Nisus and Giton threw themselves to the ground at Scyrax's feet pressing their lips to the floor. Scyrax sat silent for a moment staring coldly at them. Then he spoke.

"You are thieves. You both know that your bodies and all the pleasure and service that can be rung from them belong to me and yet you deliberately choose to go off together to secretly pleasure each other. Furthermore I was preparing Giton to sell. I would have got a good price for him; a blond twelve year old virgin. I only sell top quality fresh stock. My reputation as merchant is all important to me. How can I sell such debased goods as Giton now is? Worse what would have happened to my reputation if you had succeeded in evading the watchful eyes of my good loyal Felix and I had sold him as fresh untouched flesh when he was in fact already damaged goods."

"As thieves you deserve to be crucified but as always I am merciful… Perhaps too merciful. I will content myself with the usual punishment. Giton you will be whipped and sold for what you can fetch tomorrow as, what you are, a common little tart. Nisus you too will be whipped and then when you have recovered from that sufficiently to feel and know what is being done to you I will render you incapable of offending in a similar way again."

"Master," it was the older boy who spoke. "Please Master don't treat Giton like that. I got him into the store room by a trick Master. He didn't know what I planned and I didn't fuck him Master. I just put my cock along his crack and… You could sell him still for a good price. I didn't enter him Master. Punish me Master but not Giton."

I will most certainly punish you Nisus but I will punish Giton as well. He may not have known what you intended when you took him into the store room but he certainly new quick enough after that and he did not resist you. He did not cry out. He is as guilty as you."

"I told him I would kill him if he resisted or called out Master. It's not his…"

"And he put his miserable life above the duty he owed me his Master. He will be punished. Now be silent unless you want me to have your tongue removed as well."

"If Giton is to be sold tomorrow I may as well get as good a price for him as I can. You will be beaten boy but your shoulders and bottom will be unmarked."

"Fetch the staff."

A groom brought forward a wooden post somewhat thicker and longer than a broom handle. It was clear the men were accustomed to the procedure and knew well what to do. While two of them held the staff firmly at either end the other two ceased Giton by the arms and threw him roughly on the floor on his back.

"Tie his ankles separately to the staff and a little apart," Scyrax commanded.

Lifting Sulis from his lap he heaved himself to his feet and waddled over to where Giton lay. He checked the cord binding the boy's ankles to the shaft. Picking up a cane he lashed Giton hard between the legs bringing it slicing down across his testicles. Screaming the boy clasped his hand to his crutch. Two of the grooms grabbed him by the wrists pulling his hands above his head and pinioning them to the floor there.

"No stop Master stop," Nisus shouted jumping to his feet and running forward in a desperate and doomed attempt to help his lover.

The Negro stepped forward and slammed his fist into the boy's face. Nisus slammed to the floor blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

"Pick the brat up," Scyrax commanded. "I want to him to see his little whore punished."

Grinning Felix pulled Nisus back to his feet. The naked youth squirmed and twisted in the eunuch's grasp desperate to stop Giton's punishment but the man's grasp held firm.

"That's what you sinned with so that's what I'm going to beat," Scyrax said turning his attention back to Giton raising the cane for a second blow. Four times Scyrax cut the boy across the balls while the grooms strained to hold the beam steady and the boy's hands to the floors and Giton screamed and pleaded uselessly for mercy. Then he stepped back and signalled to the Negro.

The black man came forward to take his place. He was carrying a rod some what shorter and less pliable than a cane. The two men holding Giton's hands to the floor stood up and grinning, prepared to watch the fun. The Negro began to beat the boy across the souls of his feet with the rod. The strokes were not so very hard but they were delivered firmly and steadily, blow after blow. The first few Giton lay quiet under but very soon he was screaming and thrashing about on the floor as the pain mounted and consumed his whole body. The thump of the rod across the child's bare feet, his howls of pain, the thudding of his hands and head on the marble floor as he threw himself about in agony and the cruel laughter of the watching men as they enjoyed the spectacle, dominated the otherwise silent garden.

At last the boys screams began to weaken, his writhings to get less wild.

"That's enough Scyrax rasped, "release him."

The grooms undid the cords binding the boy's ankles to the pole. Scyrax looking down into the his tear and snot stained face kicked him hard in the ribs.

"Get to your feet slut," he ordered.

Giton obeyed and then the hilarity of the watching men knew no bounds as he hopped in agony from foot to foot. It was as though he was walking on burning coals and indeed that was exactly as it felt to the boy. Finally he dropped back to his knees on the floor unable to stand the agony any longer.

"Get out of the way," Scyrax ordered disgustedly kicking Giton in the bottom and sending him scuttling on all fours to one side.

"That's the entree out of the way. Now for the main course. String the other brat up by his wrists and flog him."

Two grooms took the struggling Nisus away from Felix and dragged him over to where Scyrax stood. A rope was thrown over a beam of the pergola. An end was tied round Nisus slim boy's wrists fastening them in front of his body. The rope was drawn tight so that Nisus stood his hands drawn above his head the tips of his toes just touching the floor.

Scyrax ran his hands over the boy's taut body. Saliva dribbled from a corner of his mouth. The front of his tunic bulged where it covered his crutch. It was clear that the man was very aroused.

He walked back to his couch. Before he seated himself he pulled off his loincloth and lifted his tunic above his waste revealing a vast belly covered in a matt of dark hair. His cock erect and demanding pressing up against his somach's bulging overhang. He collapsed on the seat and reached out for Sulis. This time he did not lift the child on to his lap but pulled the face down into his crutch. The back of Sulis's head began to move violently and there were damp sucking licking sounds as the boy got down to his work.

Scyrax glanced at the Negro and nodded. The black man picked up the whip. It's lash of plaited leather, well oiled, glistened darkly and moved in his hand like a live thing, a thick black snake, coiled and ready to strike. He carefully measured his distance and then swung the whip back over his shoulder. Bringing his right foot forward so that he could bring the whole strength of his body into play he brought it ripping down across the boy's bare shoulders. Leather impacted on bare flesh with an unmistakable crack. The lash curled round the boy's body, it's tip splitting the tightly drawn skin of his chest. The force of the blow knocked the boy off his feet and for a moment he swung suspended by his wrists as his feet scrabbled desperately for purchase. The scream when it came was shrill, loud and scarcely human.

The Negro plied the whip mercilessly. The boy leapt and twisted under it's impact in a wild dance of suffering and pain. Blood trickled down the boys back and flanks as the lash tore his skin. Each time a blow landed a light red haze would be thrown up and once or twice the watching grooms had to wipe the splattered boy's blood from their faces. For a time the boy's screams combined into a constant high wail but as the flogging progressed it's volume abated until the only sound coming from the lad was a low grunt each time the whip struck home. The Negro having well bloodied the boy's shoulders turned his attention to his buttocks. Now Nisus had ceased to struggle to keep his feet. His body simply hung limp suspended from his wrists jerking to and fro under the impact of the lash.

Scyrax cried out. A moment later Sulis hunkered back on his knees, cum trickling down his chin.

"Stop," Scyrax commanded, "the brat's not feeling the whip any more. Throw some water over him."

Two grooms hurled buckets of water over the boy's inert body. Water pouring down his body took on a pinkish tinge from his bleeding shoulders and rump. Nisus moaned and his toes scrabbled weakly at the wet sand. Scyrax walked over to him and taking his chin between his finger and thumb tipped his drooping head back. The boy in his agony had bitten through his lower lip. Blood mixed with tears and mucus trickled down his chin. Nisus eyes blinked open. He stared about himself wildly and then his eyes focused on Scyrax's face. He screamed loudly. Laughing Scyrax bent forward and kissed him hard on his lips.

"Make the boy's file pass him so that they can see what happens to slave brats who break the rules. Then cut him down and tend his back. When he can walk again bring him to me. I want him to feel the knife and know what is being done when I complete his punishment."

(chapter XXV)

Dictys bowed and collecting the two exhausted smaller boys led them further into the interior of Scyrax's great mansion. Crastus himself sat on his couch beaming indulgently as the boys filed silently out of the garden gazing with horror filled eyes as they passed Nisus's well whipped body. A gang of boy's began to sweep up the sand scattered over the marble paving.

The boys slept at the very back of the house. Their dormitory was a single long rectangular room spotlessly clean, with barred windows set high in bare white washed walls and a well scrubbed tile floor.

Dictys collected a sleeping mat from by the door and spreading it on the floor settled his two charges on it. Sulis whimpered quietly for a second or so but he and Marius were soon soundly asleep. The older boy stood looking down at them for a brief moment a half smile on his face. Dictys longed to love and be loved. In the claustrophobic atmosphere of Scyrax's house, where boys once admitted did not leave except to be sold, it was only possible for him to love his own kind. But even that he dared not do. Nisus's agony showed the fate that awaited those who sinned against Scyrax's rules in that respect. Regretfully he turned away. Scyrax wanted him and he knew he must not keep him waiting. Surprisingly his step was quite light and eager. He knew he would find no love and some pain in Scyrax's bed but sex at least provided a momentary escape from the terrors and frustrations of slavery.

Chapter 12

(chapter XXVI)

"What should we do now?" he whispered to Sulis.

The nine year old stretched sleepily.

"I was waiting for you to wake up so that we could both go to the kitchen and find something to eat."

The child rolled onto his face, careful to keep his bruised bottom from contact with the floor, and then cat like with one lithe movement got to his feet.

"How's my bum look?" he asked twisting about himself in an effort to get a view of it.

Marius examined the other boy's rump seriously. Deep crimson welts cut across the smooth curve of the child's bottom. Here and there were darker almost black marks where the cane had drawn blood. The flesh around the welts was reddish purple and dark blue with undertones of sickly green and yellow where the deeper bruising was beginning to show through. The sight of the boy's ravaged bottom frightened but at the same time excited Marius. He felt himself begin to harden again.

"It's badly marked," he said reaching out and gingerly touching the angry weals with his finger tips.

"It's sore enough," Sulis said cheerfully. "Scyrax knows how to use the cane all right."

There was no resentment in his voice just respect for and even a certain pride in the skill of his Master.

"Have you been beaten often?" Marius asked.

"No not often. This is the first time I've been given six strokes. The most before now was two or three at a time."

"Hi," Sulis continued catching sight of Marius's stiff little cock, "you're like Dictys. He's always going hard when he looks at my bum. He fancies me you know and he's all right but we can't do anything about it because Scyrax would cut his balls off if he caught us together. And he'll be sold soon anyway. Scyrax only keeps very few boys on after they've reached sixteen."

(chapter XXVII)

The kitchen when they reached it was very similar to the one in Marius's father's country villa but larger, busier and with more and prettier slave boys. Taking Marius by the hand Sulis wriggled and pushed his way through the milling crowd of boys and youths to where a fat red faced man was standing supervising the stuffing of a goose with olives and wild pomegranates.

Sulis stood respectfully silent waiting to be noticed.

"Well boy," the cook said eventually, "what do you want."

"Please Sir," Sulis's voice had a begging note to it, "we wondered if you could let us have something to eat Sir. We haven't had anything this morning."

"Well from what I heard you had a good supper last night - the best supper a little slut like you can get from his Master," the cook said chuckled at his own joke.

"I was a very lucky boy Sir," Sulis replied grinning, "but I'm hungry again now."

"For the same dish," the man laughed lifting the front of his tunic suggestively.

"If you wish Sir," Sulis grinned beginning to kneel down.

."No, no," the man said hastily, "the Master has a short way with any of us who enjoy one of his sluts without permission.. Come along with me now the pare of you and I'll give you some porridge and black bread to fill your stomachs."

A few minutes later the two naked boys were squatting in the corner of the room a large bowl of steaming porridge between then two large chunks of rye bread grasped in their hands.

They ate quickly, Marius because he had been half starved for more than a week, while Sulis had learnt early in his young life to fill his belly when the chance arose for as a slave he could not be sure when the next opportunity would arise.

"So there you are Sulis. I might have known you would be in the kitchen stuffing your belly."

Sulis twisted round and grinned up at Dictys who was standing looking down at the two smaller boys.

"I was just showing Mariullus where the kitchen was Dictys," he said. "I thought I ought to look after him."

"And get your head in the trough at the same time. I would have thought your bum was raw enough from last night without risking getting another hiding so soon."

"Want to look at it?" The younger boy asked and jumping to his feet he pushed his little boy's bottom out towards Dictys for him to inspect. Marius looking up from where he crouched on the floor could see that under the skimpy tunic that was his only clothing Dictys was stiff while Sulis's tiny cock was also standing at attention.

Dictys ran a finger tip gently along one of the livid welts that ribbed Sulis's rump.

"That must be sore," he remarked. "Crastus has sent me to put some ointment on Mariullus's bottom. He's given me a whole jar so there'll be some to spare for you."

"Thanks Dictys. I bet your bum sore as well after being with Scyrax."

"Well he's never very gentle with a boy."

"Did you take his whole cock into you?"

"Yes," Dictys sounded proud of his achievement. "Right to it's roots. I could feel his bush pressing against my bum."

" I wonder if I could manage it. It's very big. My jaws ached like anything."

"If he decides he wants you Sulis you'll have to take it."

(chapter XXVIII)

Marius scrambled up and in his turn presented his bottom to the older boy. Soon he too was hard as Dictys worked the soothing ointment into the soreness where the plug had cruelly chafed his bottom. A few days previously he would have felt shamed and humiliated to be treated in that way and to be seen naked let alone with an erection. All pride and modesty had been stripped from him. He was no different than any of the dozens of other pretty slave brats who served and suffered in the house of Scyrax. Indeed it was common place there to see boys in a state of sexual excitement for one of the cruellest tyrannies practised by Scyrax was to forbid to them, at the time when they approached their most sexually active, any release of their urges except in his own service. The place was a hotbed of barely suppressed sexuality as the boys talked and dreamt of sex but were forbidden it's practice unless selected to satisfy their Master's cruel lusts.

(chapter XXIX)

(chapter XXX)

He did all he could to ensure that his name was not among those read out by Felix from his dread punishment roll. He was to find however that neither obedience nor a careful performance of the tasks set him were sufficient to ensure a boy an unmarked bottom.

A grand dinner had been planned. The talk among the boys had been for more than a week of the host of guests summoned, the number and intricacy of the courses to be served, the jugglers, the acrobats, dancing boys and other entertainers. For two days Sulis, Marius and two other boys had been set to work polishing Scyrax's rich collection of silver plate. It had been boring work. Each item and there were dozens of them, plates, goblets, candlesticks, ewers, even silver tables had to be burnished to mirror like brightness by the boys using friction and a dry cloth alone. Now at midday on the third day all had been done except a single gigantic silver platter. It had Niobe grieving for her murdered sons and daughters engraved in the centre and chased in gold. Round her lay the unclothed bodies of her twelve slaughtered children, six boys and six girls all equally beautiful, portrayed in elegant but erotic detail. To one side stood the fearsome figures of Apollo and Artemis, their swords dripping with the gore of the murdered innocents, regarding their handiwork with obvious satisfaction. Sulis and Marius had carried this between them into the garden and in the shade of the pergola they knelt beside it whispering quietly as they worked. They knelt in the special way prescribed for slave boys in the house of Scyrax, knees wide apart feet pushed together behind them, bottoms pressed down to the floor, balls and cocks exposed to view.

Sulis was chattering, as he did so increasingly, about Dictus, how Dictys fancied him, how he quite liked Dictys and what clever kind brave things Dictys had done, when there were the sound of footsteps and he suddenly fell silent and bent assiduously to his work. The footsteps stopped. A sweet cloying scent was in the air.

"What a lovely little boy, I haven't seen him before. Where have you been hiding him Scyrax you naughty man?" Marius did not recognise the voice it was high, affected and peculiarly sexless. Marius stole a glance upwards. He saw the familiar bulk of Scyrax and standing very close to him a slim elegantly dressed young man hardly out of his teens with sleek blonde hair and a pale cold face it's pallor enhanced by the rouge that had been applied to the cheek bones.

"What Mariullus. I bought him three weeks or so ago. In a terrible state. You would have turned your nose up at the brat then but he's not too bad now I must say. He'll be sold next week and will turn me a nice profit I'm sure."

"You lucky man Scyrax. What a lovely little bottom the child's got. A really provocative little bum. So smooth and tight with such nice little dimples on either side. Why is it boys' bottoms seem to absolutely invite the cane. Do let me thrash the little darling."

"Now Maccius I've said the brat's to be sold next week. I don't want to put him on the block with his rump all raw. It'll spoil his price."

"That's typical of you Scyrax. You don't care about anything but money. You begrudge me the smallest little pleasure just because it'll knock a few sesterces off the price that you'll get for the little whore."

"But Maccius the boy's done nothing wrong," Scyrax protested unhappily.

"That'll make beating him all the more fun. But if you won't let me - well there it is. I don't know if I'll bother to stay for your stupid dinner after this. You obviously don't care about me really. I'll be off."

"Wait, wait," Scyrax pleaded urgently. "Let me think….. Well I suppose the auction is more than a week away and young flesh heals quickly and some men like a boy with a few marks of the cane on his bottom…. If I let you have him Maccius will you be really nice to me?"

"Scyrax you are an old dear… Grumpy on the surface but so nice and kind and generous underneath. I'll be nice to you straight away you lovely man." The youth through his arms round Scyrax's shoulders and lifted his face to the older man's. Scyrax kissed him hard on the lips. They stood for a moment embracing passionately. Scyrax's hand slipped up the back of the youth's thighs and lifting his short tunic squeezed his bottom. Then they broke apart and began to move off.

Scyrax glanced back and catching Marius's eye crooked his finger at him. Marius rose to his feet and padded after the two men his throat tight with fear.

(chapter XXXI)

Other boys hurried round carrying pitchers out of which they poured sparkling Falernian (There is literary evidence that certain Roman wines including Falernian could be at least piquant presumably this was achieved by secondary fermentation although this is a matter of some controversy) or red Spanish wine poured over heated honey.

Each couch had it's own serving boy to wait on it's occupant. Dictys had been allocated to Scyrax's couch and either he had been tipped off by Sulis, or he had guessed from Marius's misery, that he was to be thrashed. He took every opportunity he dared to try to bring some comfort to the other boy. When serving Scyrax or Maccius he manoeuvred so that his bare thigh brushed against Marius's shoulder. When at rest he surreptitiously stretched out a hand to him under the cover of the couch touching him to show that he was not altogether alone or uncared for. Marius who was aware how Dictys risked his own hide in making these gestures, small though they were, was grateful for his kindness.

An orchestra played at one end of the room. The sound of lyres and flutes together with the deeper tones of cornets combined with the chatter of the guests to create an almost deafening din. Suddenly there was a clash of cymbals and all was silent. A tall heavily built man stripped to the waist and wearing only a pare of baggy striped trousers gathered at the ankle strode in leading by his hand a lithe dark skinned boy wearing only a tiny triangle of white cloth between his legs. The man bowed low to Scyrax. An assistant ran in and handed him a long ladder, holding it with one end resting on the floor the man signed to the boy to climb it.

While the lad did so the assistant set about the floor dozens of metre long iron spikes. Three sided they rested on their bases their sharpened tips pointing menacingly upwards. The boy had reached the top of the ladder. He caught hold of the top rung with both hands and began to raise his legs upwards. He was now standing on his hands at the top of the ladder the lamp light glistening on his dark oiled limbs. He raised one hand from the ladder. He spread his legs and reached out his arm, balancing himself on a single hand. The man sank to his knees and holding the bottom rung of the ladder began slowly to stand up right..

The assistant began to intersperse blazing torches on the floor among the fearsome spikes. There was complete silence apart from the laboured breathing of the man as he exerted his full strength to lift the ladder. The man now was upright the ladder held at waist level. He began to raise his hands. Slowly and painfully he brought his hands to shoulder level, the boy's body moving slightly as the ladder wobbled fractionally. The man paused. Then with a single smooth movement he raised his hands so that they were extended above his head. He paused again. The cymbals clashed once more and he removed one hand from the ladder.

Above him the boy brought his legs together and began to rotate his body by shifting his grip on the ladder from hand to hand. The cymbals clashed with increasing frequency as the boy turned more quickly. The guests began to take up the beat thumping their hand or goblets on the tables beside their couches.

Suddenly the boy bent double. He let go of the ladder and straightened, balanced for an instance his feet on the topmost rung. He did a back somersault and landed on both feet, unscathed in the centre of the iron spikes and blazing torches. The guests stamped and shouted their appreciation. The man and boy bowed low in acknowledgement.

The show though was not yet over. The assistant ran in and handed the man a blazing hoop and a long supple cane covered in plated leather. Holding out the fiery ring at arms length from his body the man snapped an order to the boy reinforcing it with a cut of the cane across his bare thigh. The lad did a series of forward and backward flips through the hoop. Faster and faster he went driven on by the sharp cuts from the cane. There was silence now except for the snap of the cane against naked flesh and the slap of the boy's bare feet on the marble floor.

Marius who rather prided himself on his own back flips watched fascinated, his own troubles momentarily forgotten. He thought he could do them just as well as the dark boy but perhaps not so fast. But then he had never tried doing them with a man with a cane driving him on.

Suddenly the man shouted and lifted the hoop above his head and the boy stood panting his body slick with sweat.

The room echoed with the shouts of applause. The orchestra added to the noise with blasts on cornets and trumpets and the clashing of the cymbals. Scyrax beckoned the man and boy to him. He threw a purse to the man and showed signs of wishing to have the boy, who was a pretty little thing, join him on the couch but Maccius objected so he popped a sweet meat in his mouth and pinched his bottom. The man spoke sharply to the boy and they backed away bowing and grinning.

A blast on the trumpets announced the arrival of the next course. Four youths carried a silver gilt table into the centre of the room. They were followed by four more carrying a stretcher on which rested the great platter on which Marius and Sulis had been working. On it lay a whole roast wild boar with a dozen piglets set about it. The cook followed carrying a carving knife with a blade as long as a sword's. He slit open the belly of the boar and dozens of blood sausages rolled out of it mixed with whole roast thrushes and black birds.

Serving boys hurried about bearing plates piled with meat or replenishing wine goblets. When all the guests had been served the orchestra began to play again and a crowd of delectable boys began a slow lascivious dance short skimpy tunics rising to show intriguing glimpses of golden roundness. Then a single chord was struck on the lyre. The boys froze as if in terror. The lights dimmed. A lute began to play a simple tune, simple but somehow sinister. From the back of the hall appeared first one and then another and then fully nine satyrs with cloven feet, goat like legs, bodies covered with matted coats of black shaggy hair out of which monstrous phalluses rose and heads with tiny horns sprouting from their fore heads. They advanced upon the cowering boys. The orchestra struck up a wild tune of wailing flutes and crowing trumpets as the boys fled before their brutish pursuers. Clothes were torn from young bodies as the satyrs tried to catch their prey. The boys desperate to escape flung themselves on their knees before the guests begging to be taken onto their couches. The guests laughing gave protection to those children they fancied kicking those they did not into the hands of the semi-human beasts. Soon there was not a guest who had not at least one trembling naked boy clinging to him for protection. It might be questioned though whether the fate these children were fleeing from would be different in any material respect to that they would ultimately experience at the hands of their protectors. The rest of the boys having nowhere else to run were ultimately overpowered by the monsters and dragged away wailing and screaming.

The lights went up again and once more the guests applauded wildly calling out their thanks to Scyrax for his generosity while kissing away the terrors of their young prizes. Serving boys singing sweetly brought in the next course. Plates piled high with all manner of fruit, elaborate cake soaked in honey, were proffered to the guests.

Maccius who now was lying with his head resting on Scyrax chest looked up into his face and whispered quietly to him. Scyrax smiled fondly down at the youth.. He nibbled at his ear and then kissed him hard on the lips.

"You have been good to me Maccius," he breathed, "and you will have the reward I promised."

"Dictys fetch the came."

A second or two later Dictys was back. He shot a pitying look at Marius as he proffered the cane to his master. It was a formidable object well designed to strike terror into the heart of any unhappy child who might be subject to it's cruel discipline. Four foot long and finely tapered so that it's tip would curl about a boy's upraised rump and bite deep into his defenceless flank.

Scyrax swung his feet to the floor and stood up. He took the cane and swung it experimentally. It's hiss sounded menacingly in Marius terrified mind.

"Here you are Maccius," Scyrax said cheerfully handing the rod to his young friend. "Show me how good a boy beater you are. The brat's rump is unmarked so it will be all your own work. Remember aim as if to strike about a foot beyond where his bum actually is. Stand up Mariullus and turn round"

Marius obeyed conscious that his cock despite his terror mysteriously stood erect.

"Now aim to get as many cuts along the crease of his bum here," Scyrax continued. Marius felt the man's finger move across his bottom indicating the area to be attacked. "It'll hurt most and longest."

"You can give him a dozen cuts eight on the rump and four on the back of the thighs."

Marius began to cry. He could not help it. Twelve cuts with that thing. Twice as many as Sulis had endured.

"Mariullus seems to be unhappy about something," Maccius remarked with a giggle.

"He'll cry a good deal louder when he feels the cane across his rump," Scyrax replied harshly.

"Get down over that table Mariullus and we'll soon give you something to cry about."

"Master," Marius sobbed, "please I haven't done anything wrong… Please." He knew in his heart there was no point in pleading but he could not help himself.

Scyrax clouted him hard on the side of the head. Marius staggered and loosing his balance fell to his knees.

"What's that got to do with it?" He laughed fiercely. "It is my wish that you should be beaten and that is the end of it. Get down and you know the rule stay down or it'll start all over again."

"Master I don't know if I can do it," Marius wailed from where he crouched on the floor. "It's the first time Master for me."

"Well, well the first time is it?" Scyrax said recovering his good humour. "All right then. I'll make it easy for you. Dictys will horse you. Now up you come boy." He bent over and taking hold off Marius by the arm pulled him to his feet.

"You see I do care about my boys," he continued ruffling his hair.

"Dictys come here and take that tunic off. I don't want it soiled if Mariullus wets himself."

Obediently Dictys pulled his tunic off over his head and dropped it to the floor. He too was hard. Turning his back on Marius he lent down so the younger boy could reach forward over his shoulders. Taking a firm hold of Marius's wrists he straightened and bending forward lifted the smaller boy's feet clear of the ground. Marius hung there feeling Dictys's smooth skin against his. His cock already stiff became rock hard and he wriggle so that it was pointing upwards along the older boy's back. Then he was still, waiting, knowing that at any moment Maccius would bring the cane slicing down across his defenceless rump, knowing that there was no chance of mercy or escape from the agony to come.

He tensed as he felt Maccius's hand lightly caress his rump.

"What a lovely little bottom you have my poor pet," the youth crooned in his high epicene voice, "so smooth and tender and the skin stretched all taught for the cane. It's terrible to think that soon it'll be all ripped and bloody. And it's so unfair. You've done nothing wrong have you my little one. You've been a good obedient child but I'm going to flog that delicious bottom of yours just the same. Just because I'll enjoy hurting you, scoring deep wheals across that sweet bottom, listening to you scream as I lay the stripes on, watching you writhe and kick as the cane tears the boy hide from your rump. No wonder you're crying knowing what is to be done to you."

"A beautiful boy," he remarked sliding his hand up Marius's back. A really lovely child, so ripe, so pretty, so vulnerable. The poor darling."

Marius felt the youth's breath against his shoulders and Maccius lips brushed the side of his neck just behind the ear.

"I am so sorry to do this to you my poor Mariullus but you see I enjoy hurting pretty little boys like you. Well I suppose we may as well begin the fun mayn't we."

Maccius straightened and took the cane from Scyrax. He laid it gently across Marius's rump carefully measuring his distance. He saw the boy's rump tense in fearful anticipation of the pain to come.

He raised the cane over his right shoulder. The chatter and the laughter of the guests quietened. An expectant hush fell on the room. This was broken by the rich urgent hiss of the cane as it sung through the air, the sharp crack of wood striking bare flesh, followed by a moments unearthly silence as Marius, all the air driven from his body by the pain, fought for breath. Then the boy screamed shrilly. It was the cry of a wounded animal. The shrill howl of some small animal in extremis. A rabbit or hare with it's hind legs shattered by the blast of a shotgun makes a similar cry. Amber fluid began to flood down the back of Dictys's legs. Marius had peed himself. His flogging had begun.

(chapter XXXII)

He was aiming, as Scyrax had advised him, for the tender area of Marius's body where his thighs ended and his bottom began. The first stroke fell somewhat above this point scoring a white line across the boy's taught flesh that soon darkened to deep red edged with purple. The second stroke was also high while the third fell across the very top of boy's thighs rather than his bottom. The third fourth and fifth were however better placed and Maccius might literally be described as having found the grove as he plied the cane with all his vigour and poor Marius howled and twisted under it's impact. The cane was a pliant one and it's tip curling round the boy's flanks nicked his flesh had quickly drew drops of blood. Now as the strokes began to overlap and intersect blood began to flow more freely down the back of Marius's thighs.

Scyrax signalled to Maccius to stop. He stepped forward to examine the damage done to Marius's rump. He pressed his finger tips hard into the welts raised by the cane ringing a further scream from the lips of the sobbing boy.

"That's enough just there," he said, "I don't want the brat permanently marked. Put three more across his bum higher up and the last four across the back of his thighs."

Maccius took his time inflicting these last few strokes, making each one count, ensuring that Marius felt each one to the full.

At last the flogging was over but not Marius's sufferings.

"You have done a good job on that Scyrax remarked," as he once more inspected the boy's raw and bleeding rump.

"Dictys take our little Mariullus round so that our guests can see what a slave brat's bum should look like after a thrashing."

Still hoisted on Dictys's back Marius was taken from couch to couch. All the guests were clearly excited by the spectacle of the child's bruised and bleeding bottom. Some wanted to kiss it better, pressing their lips to the torn skin. Others, less kindly, slapped and pinched it ringing fresh howls from the boy.

Only after a full circle of the room had been completed was Marius permitted to dismount from Dictys's back. There was a sucking sound as he slipped to theground breaking the seal between the two boys' bodies that sweat and urine had created.

Marius stood for a moment unsteadily on his feet. The hush that had fallen on the room during his flogging dissolved in a clatter of laughter and talk.

"Take him away," Scyrax commanded Dictus, "We have had our fun with him."

Chapter 13

(chapter XXXIII)

"You here?" Dictys said sounding not at all too pleased. "Take Mariullus to the dormitory and get a cloth soaked in cold water from the pump and lay it on his bum to take the bruising out. And don't come back here again…. If you're spotted you could get badly hurt."

He turned and hurried back into the noise and glare of the dining room. Scyrax was not a man who like to be kept waiting for his pleasures.

Marius stumbled sobbing quietly along the ever narrower and darker passageways that led to the boys' dormitory. He was conscious of little beyond the burning pain that had it's seat in the raw bleeding flesh of his bottom but seemed to fill his whole body. Sulis, shocked by the sight of the other boy's lacerated rump, for once was silent.

(chapter XXXIV-XXXV)

Sulis woke early in the morning. He gently lifted the towel from the other boy's raw bottom. Marius heard him draw his breath in sharply.

"You really caught it Mariullus," he said in awed tones. "You stay here while I find some ointment."

There was a general bustle in the long room as Scyrax's young slaves roused themselves for another day in the service of their master. A number paused to inspect Marius's bottom on their way from the room. They knelt beside him speaking in low voices their fingers lightly touching the livid welts that ribbed his flesh, sympathy for Marius equally mixed with respect for the young man who had inflicted so severe and vigorous a thrashing.

Soon the room was empty and silent. At last exhaustion brought relieve to Marius and he fell into a fitful dose.

He was roused from this by a loud wailing. It was unmistakably a cry of distress but not of a sort with which Marius was familiar. It was certainly not the blubbing of a freshly caned boy, a sound common enough in that house. Marius did not know it but it was not a cry of physical pain but of spiritual agony. It was the cry of creature bereft, a cry against the injustice and cruelty of life.

He heaved himself painfully to his knees and stared about him. At that moment Sulis appeared. He was moving in a strange stumbling run, his knuckles were pressed to his eyes and he was bawling his misery to the world with all the strength and volume that his young lungs could muster.

Marius forgetful of his own injuries in his concern for the misery of the other boy scrambled to his feet. Sulis stumbled towards him and a few seconds later Marius's arms were full of howling naked boy. He stood looking down on the top of the smaller child's head, feeling his face wet with tears pressed against his own chest. He had never seen Sulis in such a state before. The boy cried when he was beaten. What boy did not? But like boys in general he was a resilient little beast and when his bottom was not freshly striped he was cheerful and lively.

It was some time before Sulis did anything else than press his body against Marius's and howl his misery to the world. Marius, feeling utterly lost and helpless, hugged the boy to him waiting for the fit to pass. Even at this moment, though, his body shamed him. The feel of the younger boy's skin cool and silky smooth pressed against his excited him and his prick jumped to attention.

Sulis however appeared oblivious or uncaring of this and slowly the story emerged, frequently interrupted by renewed bouts of sobbing. Dictys was dead. He knew he should have gone to Felix for the ointment but the eunuch was cruel man who delighted in hurting boys. So he had gone to look for Dictys instead. Dictys was good and kind and would do anything he could to help. And now he was dead. The only person who really cared for him, the bravest kindest boy in the house, dead.

Sulis broke down again at this point but after sometime recovered and went on.

He had looked everywhere about the house for him. In the end he had gone to the dining room to see if he was helping clean the place up after the dinner. It wasn't Dictys's job to do such work but often the place was in a terrible mess a dinner and it would be like Dictys to turn up to help.

Here the narrative was interrupted again by another bout of crying as Sulis remembered the many virtues and kindnesses of his hero. With a couple of loud sniffs he continued.

The dining room had been in an awful mess, broken plates, food wine and vomit spilt on the floor. A team of boys were employed in cleaning it up but he could not see Dictys. He went into the room looking for him and then he saw him lying on the floor beside Scyrax's couch - dead.

Marius was unwise enough to ask at this point Sulis was sure he really was dead. This brought on a further fit of wailing.

He was quite sure, Sulis sobbed, remebering the horror of the thing he had seen..

Marius stood holding the younger boy close. He too was near to tears but he knew with all the maturity and responsibility that an eleven year old could feel for a child two years younger than himself that he must not give way to his own grieve. His job was to comfort Sulis and he could not do that if he too was crying.

"What is this abominable noise. Why are you two sluts idling your time away here? Why aren't you both working?" Felix demanded in his high pitched effeminate voice. The eunuch had crept up on the two boys unheard and was now working himself into a thoroughly enjoyable frenzy. Enjoyable that is for him who took pleasure in persecuting the boys of Scyrax's household.

"Sir," Marius blurted out, "I'm sorry Sir but Dictys is dead. Sulis has found his body and it's upset him."

As soon as he had spoken Marius knew he had made a mistake. Scyrax's secretary grabbed Sulis by the arm and wrenched him away from Marius. He spun the boy round and swinging the thick leather strap which the boy slaves all knew and feared began to flog the boy. "You ungrateful slut," the eunuch screamed shrilly. "You choose to ignore your duty to your Master who out of the goodness of his heart feeds and houses you to spend time weeping about a worthless slave brat. I'll give you some thing to really cry about. I'll teach you… I'll make you squeal …. I'll …."

Leather cracked against boy's flesh. Sulis squealed as he twisted and leapt in the eunuch's grasp vainly trying to evade the cuts that Felix mercilessly rained upon his bare rump. Blow after blow slashed down across the boy's tender bottom until Felix short of breath stopped and stood panting. Sulis collapsed to his knees on the floor sobbing, his sorrow at the loss of his friend and hero temporally forgotten in his own physical agony.

"Get off with you," Felix shouted planting a kick on his raw bottom. "Do something to earn your keep. There's plenty of to do cleaning up after the dinner last night."

"And you too," he said turning on Marius, "Don't think you can spend your day lazing around just because you got hiding last night… Move or you'll have a taste of the strap too."

Clapping his hands over his bum to defend it from the secretary's strap Marius scuttled off after Sulis; reduced once more to a frightened, bare bottomed, little slave bra; his role as the protector of the younger boy forgotten.

Marius was glad to see that Dictys's body had been removed by the time he and Sulis reached the dining room. The two boys were sent to join a team of young slaves scrubbing the floor. For a time they worked side by side on their hands and knees in a silence broken only by the occasional loud sniff from Sulis. The sniffs became less frequent.

"Dictys wasn't worthless," Sulis suddenly muttered rebelliously.

"No, no he wasn't," Marius agreed in a placatory whisper keeping his head down and working away assiduously to avoid attracting the attention of the youth who was meant to be supervising them.

"He was good and kind. He was better than anyone else in this place," Sulis continued a catch in his voice. "We should tell the Gods so that they know he's not worthless."

Marius paused in his scrubbing. He hadn't thought about the Gods but now it seemed to him that Sulis was quite correct. They should be put right about the nature of Dictys.

"How can we do that?" He asked.

"We could pour a libation for him."

Marius thought back to his Grandfather's funeral, the smoking pyre, the professional mourners hushed for the moment as his father dressed in his best toga solemnly stood and raised the great silver wine cup chased with gold, his elder brother and sister standing silent beside him, his nurse holding his hand tight and whispering to him to stand still. He valued Dictys a great deal more than he did his grandfather, a cold and remote figure, but how could they possibly do anything like that for him? Yet he felt more and more that they should do something. It wasn't fare that he should leave this world without them doing something to contradict Felix's unjust description of him as worthless.

The two boys whispered urgently together as they worked. It was clear that Sulis had little idea of what was involved in a libation. He had only heard other boys talking of it. He was clear it involved pouring wine on the ground. Surely Marius and he could manage that? It would help the Gods understand that Dictys was a good person so they should do it shouldn't they?

There was no question of their getting hold of one of the silver goblets used in the banquet. They had all long ago been cleared away and locked up. Perhaps though they could find something that would serve in the kitchens. Wine too was usually hard to come by. The only time a slave boy was likely to taste it was if Scyrax or a guest of his took a fancy to the lad and let him take a sip from his cup. After the dinner however the dregs from the wine goblets would have been collected. These dregs would now be in jugs in the kitchen waiting to be poured into the swill bins for the pigs. They might well be able to steal of some of this.

Their plans completed the two boys, working away hard at scrubbing the floor, manoeuvred themselves behind one of the tables in a dark corner of the room. Abandoning their brushes and bucket they made a dart for the door. The groom supervising their work, bored with the tedium of watching eight tight naked boy rumps wriggling about in the air as their proprietors vigorously scrubbed the marble floor, had fallen asleep on one of the dining couches so they escaped unnoticed..

Half an hour later the two boys were arguing quietly but vehemently in a corner of one of the most distant cellars in the house as to which of them should say the invocation. Marius thought it should be Sulis as Dictys was primarily his friend. Sulis thought it should be Marius because the Gods would understand his patrician Latin better than is own slum argot. In the end Marius, recognising that Sulis had no idea of what to say, took the cracked earthenware cup that served them as a chalice and standing rigidly erect held it out before him saying as he poured the mixture of dregs of wine on the earthen floor as much as he remembered of the invocation. His young voice rang out sharply in the underground chamber for he had to speak loudly so that the Gods would hear him. Whether a libation given in this form by two naked slave brats both of whose bottoms bore the marks of recent beatings was as effective as one given in the full pomp of patrician ceremony and wealth cannot be known.

(chapter XXXVI)

Marius stood in front of Scyrax his head bowed feeling the man's eyes on his body. Despite himself his prick hardened.

"You're a good boy Mariullus," the fat man chuckled softly, "I know you will sell well. Turn round now and let me see if you look as nice from behind as you do from in front."

Scyrax smacked his lips appreciatively. Indeed Marius had a delicious bottom, round and firm and deeply dimpled.

Marius shivered as he felt the man run his hand up the back of his thighs. The wheals left by the cane had largely healed. Only a light bruising remained that gave an added piquancy to the boy's beauty. Scyrax ran one podgy finger along one of the fading purple and red lines scored by the cane across the smooth curve of the boy's bum. Marius felt the man's breath warm against his back. The boy whimpered in excitement and Scyrax laughed.

"You're ready for it boy," he said softly. "And you won't have long to wait now. But we don't want any accidents in the night do we? We want you really hot in the morning so you show yourself well to the gentlemen."

"Turn round again and face me."

Scyrax picked up a narrow leather thong from the small table beside his couch. Leaning forward he slipped it behind Marius's scrotum. The boy realising what was about to be done started backwards but was caught by the shoulders by Felix who held him firm and growled at him to be still. Scyrax twisted the two ends of the leather thong together and drawing it tight and around the boy's small cock and balls knotted it firmly in place. Marius's prick deprived of blood drooped and became flaccid.

"The brat's so small it seems hardly worth bothering to do Sir," Felix, always looking for an opportunity to humiliate the boys whose sexuality he envied, sneered.

"Better to have small balls than none at all," Scyrax answered the eunuch with careless cruelty.

Felix flushed and not daring to answer his master back, bit his lips in anger.

"Now the seal," Scyrax commanded.

Felix produced a stick of wax. A groom stepped forward with a lighted lamp. Marius felt the heat of the flame against his belly. Felix dropped molten wax onto the knot of the thong. A drop fell on the boy's bare skin and Marius cried out in pain. Felix always found ways of taking out his resentment at his emasculated condition on the boys subject to his whims.

"Don't make such a fuss child," Scyrax commanded pressing his ring into the soft wax. "Now I want to see that seal unbroken in the morning. If it is not I'll reduce you to the same state as Felix."

"Take him away" He commanded dismissing Marius with an open handed slap on his rump. One of the grooms stepped forward and taking the boy by the hand led him away. He was taken to a small cell at the back of the villa. He was chained by the ankle to a ring set in the floor. It was the first time that he had been chained since he had arrived at Scyrax's villa. Scyrax was a wise man and experienced in the handling of boys. He knew that boys were most likely to panic and try to run when facing alone the terrors of the unknown.

Later the groom returned with a steaming bowl of pork and bean stew and a chunk of black bread. The boys did not often get meat but Marius was to be well fed and rested in preparation for the next day.

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