Zelamir

Sejanus

Chapters 14-18

Chapter 14

(chapter XXXVII)

It was not likely that it should for the next day would determine the whole course of his future life. He was going to be taken to market and sold to the highest bidder like any other item of livestock. His purchaser would own him in just the same way as he owned his dog or his horse.

Marius did not feel any great resentment in being treated in that way. Slavery was a part of life. He wished he was not a slave and he was fearful of what was to come but to be a slave was to suffer a misfortune not an injustice. He hoped he would be bought by a kind master. He knew very well that Scyrax dealt in speciality goods and the nature of the services which he would be required to provide. He knew too that he was a pretty boy. Only such boys were kept by Scyrax. His body told him that he was ready. Lying there, alone and frightened, he tried to imagine he was with his new master. The feel of the man's arms about his body, the man's smell in his nostrils, his taste in his mouth.

He told himself he would try hard to be a good slave and to please his master. Indeed it was likely he would try hard. Brutally wrenched from his family he was in desperate need of affection. Marius wanted to love and be loved.

He wondered who his master would be, perhaps a senator or at least a rich knight. Then after many years of loyal service he would be granted his freedom and he would be able to find Pannnychis the slave girl who had suffered so much for helping him. He would buy her and set her free. He would buy Sullis from Scyrax as well and then they could all live together. Pannychis could cook and look after the house and he and Sullis could work and earn money.

For a moment he lay there dreaming happily but then his thoughts of Pannychis reawakened nightmare memories of the last few weeks. Echios's, his father's steward, sudden change from obsequious servant to insolent gaoler. His imprisonment in the farm cellar, the darkness squalor and hunger relieved only by the scraps of food smuggled to him by Pannychis. The terror that overcame him when the girl did not come and he was left to lie there in his own filth, his hunger gnawing at his guts. The sudden appearance of Crastinus who informed him with casual brutality that he had killed his father and sister and brother. His own shame at the way his body had been awakened by the touch of this butcher. The brutalities committed by Crastinus and his men during their stay at the farm, the whipping of Echios's favourite boy Pulchellus and of his own protector and friend Pannychis. The horrors of the long painful march to Rome. His sale to the slave dealer Scyrax and the cruelties he had witnessed in his house, the flogging of Nisus and Giton and Sulis and Lysias and dozens of other frightened and defenceless boys. He heard again the sound of leather cracking against bare flesh, of boys screaming as the lash tore their tender bodies. He remembered his own agony as Maccius had laid the cane across his quivering rump.

Terror replaced hope in his mind. He curled up in a small ball of naked misery sobbing quietly to himself. In time sleep brought him a momentary release from his fears.

(chapter XXXVIII)

In the centre of this activity stood the gross figure of Scyrax. At the moment when Marius was brought to the room he was standing naked by his couch, his huge belly bulging before him. He was urinating into a silver bowl held for him by a small black boy with the sweetest roundest bottom that could be imagined.. The child knelt respectfully on the floor while his master directed a stream of pungent amber fluid into the bowl held only a few inches away from his face.

The groom left Marius standing just inside the door. With a feeling of sick horror the boy saw Maccius lounging on the couch. The young man was naked but while Scyrax's body was fat and was covered with a mat of dark hair Maccius was slim with only a tuft of blond hair about his scrotum. But thin and hairless though his body was he held himself with such arrogance that it was impossible to confuse him with the slave boys who hurried nervously about the room.

He was playing with a dagger with an ivory hilt, it's pommel set with a single large ruby. The sunlight glinted on the slim blade as he toyed with it. While Marius watched Maccius lent forward and smiling gently rested the point against the side of the little Negro's thigh. The child tensed as he felt the touch of the cold metal against his bare flesh.. Maccius smile broadened as he increased the pressure on the dagger. Marius saw it's point sink into the boy's taught thigh. A bead of blood formed on his dark skin and began to trickle downwards. The boy's chest heaved as he felt the pain but still he held the bowl steady. Discipline in the House of Scyrax was firm.

At last the stream of pee dwindled to a trickle. Scyrax shook the last few drops from the tip of his cock and wiped his hands on the child's tight black curls. He gestured and the boy rose to his feet. He bowed deeply and backed away still carrying the bowl with it's steaming contents. As the boy passed him Marius saw the side of his leg was glistening darkly with fresh blood.

Maccius laughed and licked the tip of the dagger.

Scyrax glanced round and seeing Marius beckoned the boy to him. Marius moved forward on leaden legs his eyes fixed on Maccius who said nothing but smiling coldly tested the point of his dagger on his thumb..

"I think he remembers you darling," Scyrax remarked giggling softly as he reached out and drew the reluctant boy to him.

Seating himself on the couch beside his lover he bent forward to examine the wax seal on the cord knotted tightly about Marius's scrotum.

"Why Mariullus you have been a good boy haven't you? I knew you would. Maccius would you be very kind and cut it off."

Maccius giggled and leaning over the man's fat thighs pressed the blade of the dagger across the base of Marius's prick. Marius shuddered and closed his eyes.

"Stand very still now sweetest," Scyrax counselled him softly, "I don't want Maccius making a mistake. A pretty little thing like you would be worth much less if he cut too far."

Maccius giggled again and then Marius felt the sharp blade drawn lightly across his prick. His cock snapped upright and he realised the cord had been neatly severed. He gave a sob of relief and Scyrax laughed outright.

Felix appeared carrying a tray with a variety of objects on it including a strange canvass tube with a bronze nozzle at one end and followed by two boys both carrying large earthenware bowls; one empty, one half full of gently steaming water.

"Now Mariullus we've got to get you ready for the auction," the fat man said taking hold of the boy by his wrist and pulling him face down over his knees. "We must have you clean inside and out."

He rested the one hand on the boy's rump and Marius wriggled appreciatively under it's touch. He felt strangely content lying across his master's fat thighs his bare bum and ready to his hand. He felt no shame just a feeling off acceptance and surrender.

"There's a good boy," Scyrax murmured softly patting his naked rump. "Now push that pretty little bum of yours as high as you can and spread your legs. That's right … good lad."

Marius gasped as he felt Scyrax's grease coated finger tips pressing into him.

"There we are… .Now the nozzle. I'll just get it a little warm so it doesn't make you jump so much when I push it in."

Marius caught his breath again at the further invasion and then after a slight pause a delicious sensation as warm water flowed into him. After a time the initial feeling of well being turned to discomfort and then to positive pain as the pressure of the fluid inside him increased.

He murmured a protest and wriggled uneasily on Scyrax's lap.

"Just a little bit more my sweet," the fat man cooed and then just as Marius though he would burst the nozzle was withdrawn from his bottom.

"Up you get little one," Scyrax said reinforcing his command with a sharp slap on the boy's bottom.

"Now hold that inside you till Maccius has counted to twenty."

Maccius began to count very slowly, deliberately leaving long pauses between each number and drawing each word out for as long as he could

"Oooone…….twoooo…….threee….."

Marius whimpered and clapped his hands to his bottom trying desperately to hold the liquid inside him. He began to jig about on his bare feet trying to find some relief from his agony while his two tormentors lent back on the couch watching him and enjoying his discomfort.

At last Maccius completed his leisurely count.

Marius in the nick of time made it to the empty earthenware bowl. He squatted over it emptying himself while Scyrax watched him with a quizzical smile on his face and the bustle of the room went on around him regardless. Even Marius despite the harsh schooling he had undergone felt the shame of his position.

A great tub was carried into the room by four youths and filled with scented water. Marius was required to kneel in it while Scyrax sponged him down. Then he was wrapped in a towel and dried. Oils were brought and the man's plump soft hands strayed over the boy kneading and stroking, leaving no cleft or cranny of his young body untouched. As he worked Scyrax talked. He spoke softly, almost hypnotically, of the things that Marius would experience at the hands of his new master, of the pleasures he would experience and give, commenting on the attractions of his body and the uses to which they would be put.

"Look at these legs Maccius so slim and elegant and yet so strong. His thighs firm and smooth and his bottom, so pert, so well rounded, those dimples, there and there and this cleft… Just bend forward a little my child…. can you imagine so tight…… " and so on for Scyrax knew that in order to get the best price for a boy of the sort he traded in the child had to be sent to the block in a state of high excitement

At last it was finished and Marius stood before his slim boy's body burnished and glistening.

"Have you seen anything nicer?" Scyrax demanded. "Look at the little dear, his tiny cock all stiff and hard, ready and eager for his new master. He'll fetch a good price."

"I'd like to have him," Maccius remarked lightly.

He paused a puzzled look on his face.

"Why is it that I enjoy destroying beautiful things?" he asked suddenly.

"Well you can't have this one." Scyrax replied lightly. "He's going to make us lots of money. Aren't you Mariullus."

He took the boy's chin between his finger and thumb and tipped his head back so he looked down into his face.

"You see Mariullus," he continued, "that's a slave brat's only protection. His cost to his master. The more you cost the more he'll look after you. So if you fetch a high price it will be good for both of us."

He paused and smiling ran his finger along the boys lips.

"And just to make sure you try really hard to at the market. I'll put a nice big reserve price on you and if you do not make that reserve I will have you brought back here and give you to Maccius for him to play with. So you will try hard won't you child?"

"Yes Master," Marius whispered and waited to hear his fate.

"Fifty sesterces child. You make that for me or I'll give you to Maccius."

Marius's heart sank. It was almost enough to buy a good horse. Who would pay such a sum for a mere boy?

Scyrax saw his face and laughed.

"It's a high price Mariullus," he chortled, "but a pretty little virgin like you could make it on a good day. You'll just have to try hard and hope there's a rich buyer who fancies golden boys," and he laughed again.

Maccius rested the point of his dagger against Marius's chest just below his left nipple.

"Do let me have him Scyrax…. Please I would like so much to make the blood flow and to hear him scream," he pleaded.

Marius felt the sharp blade cold against his skin. He stared down terrified into the youth's black eyes hard and glittering and mad. He saw a small fleck of saliva form at the corner of Maccius's painted lips, a scarlet slash in his pallid face, and begin to trickle down his chin. The boy whimpered in terror.

Scyrax gestured. A slim metal ring with a light chain attached was snapped tight about Marius's wrist. Maccius's wild laughter rang shrilly out behind him as he was led from the room by a sturdy groom.

As they were crossing the great entrance hall with it's elaborate mosaics and brilliantly painted walls Sullis darted out from behind a pillar. The child must have been hiding there all morning hoping to catch a last glimpse of his friend. He ran out and flung his arms tight around Marius's neck. Marius looked down into the younger boy's face. Sullis's cheeks were wet with tears and his lips trembled. Marius instinctively bent his head and kissed the other boy hard on the mouth.

The groom turning to see what had checked their progress across the hall laughed at the sight of the two naked boys embracing.

"You're certainly ready for market young one," he remarked jerking on the chain fastened to Marius's wrist. "Come on now, you'll give your new master whoever he is value for money I'm sure."

Alseus, the big Negro porter, stepped forward also grinning. He wrenched the two boys apart and sent Sullis spinning across the floor to collapse in a heap by one wall. Nothing further would have happened to Sullis then but as luck would have it Felix choose this moment to enter the hall. The eunuch taking in at a glance what had happened drew out his metal tipped strap and advanced on the boy whose bottom, as he tried to scramble to his feet, offered a very attractive target. Soon the hall was echoing with the crack of leather and the squeals of a child in distress.

Marius checked again but the groom pulled firmly on his chain and he was led from the house, the unmistakable sounds of a young boy under correction ringing in his ears.

Then those sounds of juvenile misery were drowned by the din of the Roman street. Men shouted and cursed, carts rumbled noisily by. Marius had experienced this before but long weeks spent locked up in Crastinus's mansion had made him unprepared for the noise, the smells and the sights that now assaulted his senses. The excitement of being out in the teeming crowds drove all thought of Sullis's sufferings from his mind.

His excitement was heightened by the fact that he was himself a subject of interest and admiration. The last time he had been out on the streets of the capital no one had taken any notice of him. He had been just a filthy half starved slave brat, no different from many hundred of others. Now though he had been washed and groomed with as much care as if he was a thoroughbred horse, his hair, his skin glistened with health. He was a thing of beauty. Men turned to look at the naked honey skinned boy with the dusty gold hair. They smiled at the sight of his slim young legs, his deeply dimpled bottom and his hard little prick that wobbled erect as he trotted along behind his keeper. A few called out words of admiration or offers of money to the groom if he would only let them enjoy the boy. Some even tried to touch him but the groom was big and fierce, specially chosen for his task, and they fell back when he turned on them.

Indeed the chain about Marius's wrist was not so much to prevent him running away, for where would he run to, but to prevent his being stolen.

(chapter XXXIX)

The one to which Marius was destined dealt only with the choicest of young stock, girls and boys. It was simply an open sided paved area, from the sun by a large tarpaulin, at one end of which was a raised platform with a table to one side of it and a small solid wooden block in the centre.

When Marius and the groom arrived the auctioneer and his assistants were engaged in lotting the items to be offered for sale that day. A queue of sellers with their young merchandise had formed. Marius and the groom joined the tail of this. They shuffled slowly forward as one by one the children were submitted to the auctioneer for inspection. He worked quickly and decisively. Those that were clothed he would strip, a quick examination, a few terse questions on age, experience, skills and so on, addressed not to the child but to the seller, an enquiry as to the reserved price if any and the boy and girl was led away by one of his assistants, a metal tag on a leather thong hanging about it's neck giving it's lot number.

Not all went smoothly. Sometimes there would be an argument. A seller would demand a higher reserve price than the auctioneer considered reasonable or would contend for a different lot number than he was prepared to concede. Much depended on the lot number. A brat brought to the block before the market got fully underway or after it had passed it's peak might not sell at the best price. When that happened the seller would shout and rage, the auctioneer would drawl in his mannered and supercilious accent while the waiting crowd muttered and jostled impatient at the delay.

On another occasion a poor man selling one of his sons to pay his debts broke down, hanging on to the boy and weeping. That time the auctioneer lost his temper and berated the wretched man, telling him that it was his own fault that he had to sell the brat and that he had no right to stop honest men earning their living. The boy was led away, his shoulders stiff, trying to stop himself breaking down and adding to his father's unhappiness.

At last Marius and the groom reached the front of the queue.

"Not a bad looking lad," the auctioneer remarked putting his head on one side and casting a connoisseurs eye over the naked boy.

"Name of seller, name and age of boy, any abilities or skills," he drawled running his hands over Marius's body.

"He comes from the house of Scyrax, he is called Mariullus, he is eleven year old and he is a virgin Sir," the groom said respectfully.

"Eleven years old and a virgin and a good looker too. We don't get many of them here. I'd better have a look."

"Turn round boy and put your feet apart."

Marius felt one of the auctioneers hands on the back of his neck pushing his head forward. Then his hands moved down to his bottom prying him open.

"Yes. Well I should have known Scyrax would not try to sell counterfeit goods. What does he propose as a reserve price."

"Fifty sesterces Sir."

"Fifty! That's a high price but then he is a pretty piece of boy's flesh. Very well Lot number eight."

A leather thong from which hung a metal tag bearing the number VIII was hung round Marius's neck. One of the auctioneers assistants took him to sit among a crowd of naked children huddled at the base of the platform.

(chapter XL)

Then a sudden and complete hush fell as the first of the prospective purchasers arrived. The preliminary viewing had begun. Men moved among the crowd of children making their selections. Boys and girls were pulled to their feet and the most intimate recesses of their bodies brutally explored. Any reluctance or hesitation attracted the attention of one of the assistants and was quickly overcome with a blow and a curse.

Over the next hour or so Marius was the subject of a good deal of attention. He stood still patiently submitting to a series of the most intense and detailed examinations. No part of his body was exempt from intrusion. Some man laughed and talked among themselves as they fingered and prodded his body. Some actually spoke to him, asking a terse question or making a rough comment or coarse joke as they handled him. At first Marius felt frightened but his fear was quickly banished by the excitement of being fondled.

At last the auctioneer stepped up onto the platform and rapped on the table with his gavel. His assistants hustled the boys and girls who were to be sold to one side forcing them to sit or squat on the ground. The men formed a wide semicircle facing him.

"Well gentleman, we may as well begin. We have a wide selection of the highest quality livestock for sale today. It is my policy to collect for your enjoyment the choicest young slaves available in the whole Empire. This sale is for the discerning connoisseur and the goods on offer reflect this. So let us not waste time. Lot number 1."

A trembling rather skinny eight year old boy was dragged from the huddled crowd of naked brats. He stood uncertainly at the foot of the platform. The contrast between the appearance of this frightened miserable child and the boasts of the auctioneer as to the quality of the stock for sale led to roars of laughter and raucous shouted comments from the crowd. The boy began to cry.

"You may laugh Gentlemen," the auctioneer said raising his voice over the noise of the crowd, "but I tell you there is quality in that slut for a man with patience to fatten him up a bit."

"Make him show himself off one of you."

One of the assistants cracked his whip at the boy catching him on the side of the thigh with it's tip. The brat squealed and began to move unsteadily round the edge of the semicircle formed by the crowd tears streaming down his face.

"Get your hands down by our sides," the assistant screamed at him reinforcing his order with a further flick of the whip, "let the gentlemen see what they are paying for."

"Not that there's much to see," the auctioneer remarked as the men hooted and jeered.

The poor little brute was beside himself with terror. It took another cut of the whip to get him up on the platform and a further one onto the block itself..

"Well I can see this particular item does not meet with your enthusiastic approval," the Auctioneer continued near laughter himself, "so I will start the bidding at a low price. Who will offer me five denarius. Thank you six. Six it is … any improvement on six……"

Eventually the boy was sold for eight denarius to a hard faced man dressed in the coarse clothes of a fisherman.

"Well Grimus," the auctioneer remarked as the deal was concluded, "I hope he lasts longer than most of the ones you buy from me."

The auctioneer did not sound at all distressed by the low price the first lot had made. Indeed he might not stand to make much commission from that particular sale but it had served it's main purpose. All the slave brats now knew the procedure they had to follow and the consequences of their failing to do so.

Following lots were of considerably better quality and achieved better prices. Soon lot number six, a handsome dusky lad was on the block and the bidding had reached twenty sesterces and was rising strongly. Marius could see that lot number seven, a pretty dark skinned girl of about fourteen year was being held ready by an assistant to take her place in the ring. The man held her one hand fondling one of her small firm breast the other rubbing her crutch. The girl's eyes were glazed with lust as she wriggled her bottom against the man.

Lot six went for forty sesterces and the girl was pushed out into the wring. She walked swinging her hips her pert little breasts pushed proudly forward. Marius was pulled to his feet and brought to the edge of the ring ready to take his turn. The assistant held Marius tight against his body one hand gently squeezing one of the boy's nipples the other toying with his already hard prick.

The bidding for the girl was brisk. Her price raced up to fifty and then more slowly climbed to seventy- five where it stuck. Then it was Marius's turn.

The assistant pushed him out into the ring sending him on his way with a smart smack on his rump. Blood roared in Marius's ears as he moved forward careful to keep his hands away from the front of his body. The men were a blur of white faces and coloured clothes as he moved slowly round the edge of the semicircle.

In his confusion he only heard disjointed phrases from the auctioneers address.

"A beautiful boy…… .eleven years old but still a virgin…. ripe as a peach … ready for the plucking as you can see ……. round dimpled bottom…. still bears the mark of the cane … A boy with a bit of spirit in him ….. Like riding and breaking a young colt."

He completed his circuit and mounted the platform. The bids came quickly ten twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty - at least now he was safe from being given to Maccius to play with - sixty five. The bids were beginning to slow but Marius stood in a daze the sounds of the bids the chant of the auctioneer, the shouts of the men a confused and raucous babble.

Suddenly he was brought back to earth by a stinging blow on his thigh.

"I said," the auctioneer grated, "put your hands on your head and turn round and show the gentlemen that sweet little bottom of yours. Now do it."

Marius saw that one of the men had lifted his whip to strike again. Quickly he obeyed. As he turned he gave his bottom a little wriggle showing that, like all boys, he had a bit of the slut in him. The men excited by this and by the sound and sight of the lash tip snapping against Marius's bare thigh began to bid again and continued to do so until his price reached ninety five sesterces.

(chapter XLI)

His wealth was confirmed by his buying two further boys before the end of the auction; a flaxen haired lad with a peaches and cream complexion from the most Northerly limits of the Empire and another even more exotic creature, an olive skinned boy with almond eyes and straight jet black hair.

The man watched as his German slave fastened iron collars joined by short lengths of chain about the boys' necks. [Author's note: such chains were quite common in the Roman empire. A good example can be seen in the archaeological galleries of the National Museum of Wales in Cardiff although that chain incorporates five rather than three collars.]

Outside the Emporium the man mounted a horse and clattered off leaving the German in charge of the boys. The German slipped a cord round the collar of the lead boy. Holding this he set off after his master at a sharp pace The boys had to trot quickly after him to keep up. Marius at the back of the coffle found this was not easy. Move too quickly and he banged into the back of the boy in front of him. Move too slowly and he received a painful jerk on his collar. When eventually he had mastered this he found he could not see all that much any way, beyond the back of the head, the neck and the bare shoulders of the boy in front of him. He saw enough however to realise that they were in a prosperous part of the city. The streets were wide and uncrowded with large well spaced villas.

They passed through the Porta Appia and were in the open country. A moment later they turned off the main road and shortly afterwards came to heavy double gates set in a high stone wall. Beyond these stood a magnificent villa. A broad flight of marble steps led up to it's massive portico. Half way up these steps stood a statue of an eagle many times life size it's beak clamped about the neck of a naked boy whose body was partly shrouded by the birds great wings. On the plinth on which this statue stood was engraved in gold letters the words "The House Of Ganymede." With a feeling of despair Marius realised he had not been bought by a millionaire senator not even by a rich knight . He was the property of the owner of a boy's brothel.

Chapter 15

(chapter XLII)

He found himself in a vast hall the brilliance of whose wall paintings and mosaics was only matched by their obscenity. Boys naked or near naked, whose flimsy clothing did not hide their excitement, frolicked with each other or with monstrously hung men. As they were marched further into the room the subtext of cruelty and humiliation became more explicit. Animals, birds and reptiles and strange creatures combining these and human features began to appear. Cyclops, one eyed giants that fed on human flesh leered from the walls and finally Atreus was shown preparing his dish of forbidden meats. Small alcoves were set along the sides of the hall all similarly decorated with curtains now looped back but ready to be lowered if the occupants felt the need for privacy.

The hall in the early evening was not crowded. The establishment was only beginning to gear itself up for the night ahead. At one end a boy played on the lyre and sang a song whose words belied the sweet clear purity of his voice.. In the centre a dozen near naked boys danced languidly obviously conserving their energies for later in the night. The only clients were a group of three men drinking wine and chatting together quietly. They seemed to be more interested in their wine and conversation than in anything else.

"How much for one of those little beauties Caratacus," one of the men called out.

"More you than you can pay Lord," the German replied sourly as he hustled the boys onward.

Beyond the hall was a large garden surrounded by a colonnade from which doors and passages led off into the interior of the villa. Caratacus lead the boys to one of these doors and knocked. Without waiting for an answer he pushed the door open.

(chapter XLIII-LXXII)

"Bring them in man and get those collars off them. How can I have a look at them when they're crowded together like that and where will they run away to here?" Impatience and amusement blended in her voice.

One by one the boys were paraded before her. The little blond beauty from the north with the golden yellow hair and the peaches and cream complexion, the exotic almond eyed child from the East and last of all Marius with his sleek brown body and dark golden hair; each different and each in his own way delectable. As each boy was brought forward the man seated beside her murmured the price he had paid for the child, the woman exclaimed at it's extortionate size, then gestured to the boy to turn round as narrow eyed she assessed the potential of his naked body. A short pause, a sharp order and the boy would be despatched to start earning his owners a profit.

Marius was the last one to be bought forward. The man murmured his price and the woman threw up her hands in amazement.

"Ninety five sesterces for a boy!" she exclaimed. "Are you mad Fabius. You're were buying a boy not a thorough bred horse. How are we to make our livings if you pay that sort of price for a boy. Do you want to ruin us? I'll go to the market myself next time."

"But Felicia," the man protested weakly, "he is a virgin. You have to pay extra for that."

"A virgin," the woman snorted, "I'll check that now."

Marius who was an intelligent boy and had been through this many times did not need to be told what to do next. He turned and spreading his legs and bent forward presenting his bottom for inspection. A finger probed him roughly and inevitably he hardened.

"Well he is a virgin," Felicia remarked grudgingly, "and he seems to be eager enough as well but we'll have to work him hard if we are to get a decent return on our money."

She paused in thought.

"First Nicias," she said speaking quietly. "The brat's made for him. He's one who'll pay for the privilege of breaking him in."

"Ganymede," she snapped and a lad of fourteen with his nipples gilded and his face heavily made up, cheeks rouged and eyes rimmed with kohl, stepped forward from a corner of the room in which he had been standing. He bowed deeply causing the tiny fringed length of cloth wound round his waist that was his only clothing to lift at the back and reveal a sweetly rounded boy's rump.

"Listen to me boy," Felicia continued, "take this brat to the pavilion at the end of the park where his screams won't disturb our other clients and see his ready for the Lord Nicias. And when I say ready I don't mean tarted up like a you, you filthy little whore, I mean waiting for him just as he is."

"But he's just been run through the streets here," Fabius protested "He's sweaty and dirty. At least get him cleaned up and sweet smelling."

"We're not selling Nicias the services of a well trained catamite," Felicia replied impatiently. "If we were we would never get the money back you paid for the brat let alone turn a profit for they're plentiful and cheap enough.. We're selling him the brat's childhood and he'll take it in blood and terror and pain. We present him with a child to enjoy, grubby and a bit smelly, not polished and smelling of cheap scent like a whore."

"You boy what's your name," she demanded of Marius.

"Please Mistress Mariullus Mistress."

"Well Mariullus you're going to be hurt more than ever before. I can see you've the marks of a caning on you but what'll be done to you tonight will hurt much more than the cane."

Marius overcome by a consciousness of his helplessness and remembering the cruel bite of the cane cracking across his tender bum began to whimper knuckling the tears from his eyes.

"You'll be hurt child whatever you do so it's no good you snivelling like that," the woman continued remorselessly, " but if you are an obedient boy, do as you're told and try hard to please you'll be hurt less than if you're silly and try to fight what is going to be done to you. Do you understand boy?"

"Yes Mistress," Marius whispered choking back his tears.

"I'm putting you in Ganymede's charge . He's got my authority to strap that pretty little bottom of yours and to strap it hard if you don't do as you're told."

"Ganymede see the brat gets something to eat. I don't want him fainting from hunger before Nicias even starts to enjoy him. Grease his bottom well because I want to keep any damage to a minimum. He won't repay his purchase price from one nights work let alone make us a decent return on our money," She glanced angrily at Fabius as she said this, "but otherwise leave him as he is. Now go."

Marius felt Ganymede's hand close about his and he found himself hurried from the room.

"Come on slut," the youth said squeezing Marius's sticky little hand once they were safely out of hearing of the woman, "it's not too bad. We've all been through it. You'll survive."

"Will it really hurt so much Ganymede?" Marius asked fearfully.

It did hurt a very great deal. Then Ganymede was holding his head cradled on his thighs stroking his hair and murmuring words of comfort.

"There stop now. It's over now.." But it wasn't.

There were more footsteps. A murmur of voices.

"Get him out of here. He's bleeding too much. He'll mess the place up…"

He was lifted and carried and then he found himself lying on his face, a cushion under his hips. Strong hands pulled his legs apart and held him. Fingers probed his soreness. Felicia was bending holding a needle and a length of silk thread and then more pain. Worse pain than anything he had suffered before.

Over the next week Marius's virgin boyhood was sold four times and three further times he was held down screaming while Felicia repaired the damage so that it could be sold again. The last time he began to scream as soon as they came to carry him to Felicia. That would have made no difference. The screams of a suffering slave brat were not reflected in the brothels Profit and Loss Account. What saved him was that the woman recognised that it was no longer possible to achieve a repair job that would convince even the most drunken of youthful patricians that Marius's bottom was any longer virgin territory. By then however his agonies had earned enough to cover and to show a little profit on his purchase price.

After this he became just another boy whore obliged to service any client of the establishment prepared and able to pay for his services. At first he simply hung round the main hall running errands and smiling invitingly at any customer whose eyes rested on him. Then he was set to work carrying food and wine to the tables. All these tasks were performed under the watchful eyes of Fabius or one of his assistants who constantly patrolled the building and who were quick to use the whip on the bottom or shoulders of any boy who showed a lack of commitment to his calling.

It was rare though for Marius to feel the touch of the whip. Now that the initial agony of his initiation was past he longed and sought desperately for that moment of wild release that he had experienced even at the hands of Nicias. His pretty face lithe slim body and energy made him popular with the brothels clients and attracted the attention of Felicia. She ordered that he should be trained as a dancer. It was then that his potential as a gymnast was noticed.

(chapter LXXIII-LXXVI)

Months passed and the Antonine games approached. It was a time when Rome was crowded with visitors from the provinces keen to see the sights and enjoy the pleasures of the great city. It was a profitable time for the traders of Rome including the brothel keepers. But competition was keen and the proprietors of these establishments competed with each other in staging specialist performances to draw in the customers. Felicia and Fabius were engaged in considering what attractions they could lay on, on this occasion. Fabius had suggested something involving dogs but Felicia, as was often the case when the partners were discussing their business plans, had dismissed the idea contemptuously. Dogs she announced were old hat. Fabius, who knew his place, waited in silence to learn what, in their particular line of business, would be in fashion.

"Mariullus," said Felicia, "thoughtfully. He has more than repaid our original investment and he's turned into a good little tumbler. We might do something with him."

"He's very popular with the customers," Fabius remarked doubtfully, "and he's always keen and willing." Fabius knew that this latter statement was true from his own experience. He would be sorry he told himself to loose Mariullus.

"Like every other boy he'll loose his appeal as he gets older. The trick is to make the most money out of him while he's still attractive and I think we could lay something special on with a balancing bar and fire. He might even survive it for a bit so it could become almost a regular act. We'll start training him immediately. There's no time to loose.

After that Marius found that he was being made to train on the bar. Urged on by his trainer and motivated by frequent applications of the cane across his bare rump which followed any lapse in concentration or skill he quickly gained in proficiency. Indeed he took a pride in his performance and when at the end of a session he would do a back flip from the bar and stand panting his body aching from fatigue and his flesh smarting from the frequent flicks of the cane he would grin and wriggle in delight if his trainer or other onlookers praised him. He saw nothing sinister or frightening in these new exercises. They were simply a way of enhancing his existing act.

It was only on the first night of the games that he discovered what was really planned for him. He had been told that he was to perform for the first time in public on the bar that night. When he had entered the hall, his hands well coated in resin to give them extra grip, he had seen nothing to suggest what was to come.

The place was crowded and noisy all Rome, or that considerable part of it's male population that appreciated a good looking boy, seemed to be there. The bar raised perhaps a metre or so from the ground had been placed in the centre of the hall. Fabius stood at one end of it holding as usual a whip in his right hand. For some reason he was holding a lighted lamp in his other hand. He did odd things sometimes and Marius though nothing of it. Marius noticed that one of the ushers stood at the far end of the bar also holding a whip. It was the ushers job to wander about and see that all was going smoothly and the customers were getting what they wanted and they always carried whips to help them perform this task.

Fabius caught sight of Marius and beckoned to him. The boy ran to him eager to show off his new skills and excited by the thought of being the centre of so much attention. Fabius gestured him onto the bar. He ran to it's centre and poised there arms raised above his head the light gleaming on his well oiled limbs feeling the gaze of every man in the place focused on his near naked body. Then excitement turned to terror.

Fabius bent and touched the burning wick of the lamp to the floor. A sheet of flame leapt upwards. There was a gasp from the crowd Marius felt the heat scorching his bare legs. The floor beneath the bar and for a considerable area on either side of it appeared to be alight. He turned to run but saw Fabius standing at the end of the bar the whip held ready in his hand. He twisted round but the usher was barring his way at the other end. He hesitated and then howled as Fabius flicked him on the side of one bare thigh with the tip of his whip. "Come on boy dance" he shouted and raised his whip to strike again.

Marius knew that one stroke of the whip landed squarely across his shoulders would knock him off balance and that, while he might be able to recover his footing after just one, three or four cuts delivered in the same manner would inevitably send him tumbling from the bar into the flames below. These flames had fallen back somewhat from the first upwards blaze. They were burning now with a steady glow but the heat they gave out was still considerable and he knew he would not survive a fall into them. Nor would anyone help him, his current terror and the prospect of his death rolling and screaming in agony among the flames, simply served to entertain the brothel's clients, forming an exciting hors- d'oeuvre to the pleasures of the night.

"Dance," Fabius shouted and raised his whip again.

"Dance," shouted the men beating wine jugs on the tables. "Dance. Dance"

Fabius had his whip draw back behind his head. He was going to strike again. Marius took a deep breath and did a back flip. He kept his balance. The crowd shouted and stamped.

"Dance. Dance."

Fabius cracked his whip again and Marius danced. He did back flips, hand stands, and cart wheels as the whip cracked and the crowd roared their applause. The heat from the flames was intense. The blood thundered in his head, sweat poured off his body, his arms and legs ached with fatigue. His world became narrowed to the bar on which he stood, the square of flames beneath it and Fabius's cracking whip that drove him on. Now he was tiring fast. He knew he could not go on much longer. The strength was going from his arms. He had almost missed his footing once. If that happened again he would not have the strength to recover it.

Then suddenly the whip ceased to crack. There were groans and cheers from the crowd, some applauding Marius for his courage and skill, others expressing their disappointment that they had been robbed of the pleasure of watching the boy roast to death.

"Gentleman," Fabius shouted over the din, "the boy lives to perform again. You must come tomorrow to see if he survives a second night."

(chapter LXXVII)

He was roused by an all too familiar voice.

"It's little Mariullus. Look darling it's little Mariullus. He was one of my friends Scyraxs's boys and I always wanted to have some fun with him but the old meany wouldn't let me."

Maccius was standing over him with a friend whom Marius had never seen before, another epicene blond with cold reptilian eyes.

"Mariullus sweetest you must come along with us dear child. I've been so looking forward to seeing you again. You mustn't run away now. We'll have such fun with you."

Marius looked round desperately for escape but saw Fabius standing near by watching him. He knew a boy who refused the overtures of a client was certain to be soundly flogged. Wearily he pulled himself to his feet and urged on by frequent pats on his bottom by Maccius accompanied the two young men to a table.

Marius stood watching while Maccius and his friend settled themselves and called for wine.

"Sweetest boy," Maccius said, once the wine had arrived, patting the couch beside him, "do come and sit here beside me. We saw the end of your performance on the bar. It was so exciting. You were so brave and so determined not to fall in the flames and be burnt."

"Come here boy when I tell you," Maccius lent forward and taking Marius by the wrist pulled him roughly down on to the couch.

"I was just a little disappointed though that you didn't fall. I'm sure you'd scream so sweetly and you'd look so pretty throwing yourself about on the coals while you burnt. Still perhaps tomorrow. We'll be here tomorrow to see. Do you think you'll survive tomorrow my sweet?"

"Well you seem to have lost your tongue. Mariullus has lost his tongue. We must do something to help him recover it. Have you any idea sweetest how much it will hurt when you do burn?"

"Still no answer perhaps you don't know. Well then we'd better show you. Hadn't we?"

"Darling will you just hold my little friend Mariullus still while I show him how much fire hurts. Lets see now perhaps a flame applied to one of those lovely pert little nipples of his."

(chapter LXXVIII)

"Stop that boy. Stop him now," Maccius screamed behind him. Marius saw Fabius and two ushers moving forward to intercept him. Other men, customers of the brothel, stood up ready to join in the hunt. Marius knew he didn't have a chance but he had to run while he could. What else was there for him to do? Desperately he twisted and turned about the great hall dodging round couches, slipping under tables while the mob bayed at his heels. It couldn't last and it didn't.

He darted past a table where two men sat taking no part in the chase. As he passed one of the men reached out and caught him by the wrist. He pulled but this time there was no escape.

"Please Lord," he begged panting and tearful, "please let me go."

The man said nothing but slowly shook his head.

Chapter 16

"Marius, you naughty boy. Running away just as we were beginning to have fun. Thank you Sir for catching our friend we'll look after him for you now."

Maccius was panting slightly and giggling with excitement. He reached out for the boy and Marius cringed away.

"The boy stays here" the man said quietly.

"He's mine," Maccius protested. "I had him first and I want him back. Give him to me or we'll take him from you."

Maccius's friend and many of the men who had joined in chasing Marius muttered menacingly. One or two of the men though began to fade away into the background.

"Stay where you are boy," the man said releasing his hold of Marius's wrist. He stood up. His movements were unhurried but smooth and controlled. Looking up at him from where he crouched Marius saw that he was, although only of medium height, powerfully built with broad shoulders and a general air of physical competence. His tunic was plain and simply cut but spotlessly clean and made of the finest cloth. The belt he ware was of well oiled hide and was fastened by heavy silver clasp. There was a suggestion of the army in his dress and in the way he carried himself.

"You can try," the man replied.

The crowd backing Maccius stirred uneasily. Maccius's pulled at his sleeve and whispered urgently, nodding at the man's drinking companion, a fat middle aged individual with a face marked by dissipation and self indulgence. He had remained seated and was observing the scene with an amused smile on his face as though he was in no way involved in the unfolding drama.

"Titus Priscus are you sure," Maccius exclaimed. He might not recognise the man who stood facing him who had been engaged until recently in fighting on the Empire's Northern border and therefore had no recognised position in fashionable Roman life although he was the Emperor's nephew and putative heir.. However the name of the man holding the office of the Emperor's Master of Ceremonies, the man charged with organising the Emperor's entertainments on the island of Capri and providing an unceasing supply of fresh boys for the old despots lusts, was naturally immediately familiar to him.

"Well Marius sweety," he continued, "you seem to have found yourself important friends for tonight. But we'll be back tomorrow to see you dance over the flames and if you survive we'll teach you what how it feels to burn but perhaps not your nipple next time. Perhaps somewhere even more tender. Think about it darling," turning on his heel he minced off.

"I don't think Drusus involving yourself in a drunken brawl in a house of ill repute would necessarily be the best way of making a good impression on your Uncle immediately on your return from the wars," Titus remarked gently.

"Well what would be a good way of endearing myself to the old lecher - apart from loosing about fifteen years and turning myself into a common tart like this little slut here."

"Oh what is it fellow?" he snapped at Fabius who alerted by one of the ushers to the presence of important guests had appeared bowing and smiling at their able.

"Excuse me lord. I just came to see that you had everything you wished. You may order what you like Lords and it will be an honour to provide it to you free. I will take that brat away and have him soundly whipped for his impertinence forcing himself on your hignesses' attention. We have many prettier and younger boys than him much more worthy of your attention than him.. If you would permit me to send a selection to you I would be honoured to do so…"

"We will keep this boy and we want nothing further," Drusus cut him short and then added. "No, on second thoughts bring me a pitcher of cold drinking water, a mug, half a white loaf and a goats cheese."

"A pitcher of drinking water, a half loaf of white bread and a goats cheese Lord," Fabius said uncertainly. "You don't want some Falernian. We have some of the best in Rome …"

"No I do not want wine. If I did I would have asked for it. I want as I have already said drinking water, white bread and goats cheese. Perhaps you would have it sent here now and be good enough to leave us to our discussions."

"Very good Lord. Very good," and Fabius backed away bowing deeply and muttering to himself in an unbelieving voice, "a pitcher of cold water some bread and some goats cheese."

"Well if I don't endear myself to my uncle by getting into fights in brothels about pretty little boy whores how do I do so. I would be glad of your advice. Although considering what he gets up to in Capri I would have thought he would have found such behaviour on my part more sympathetic than otherwise. It would seem to indicate that we, he and I, have similar tastes."

"The first thing you would be wise to do Lord," Titus said mildly, "is to stop sneering at the old man's tastes. You never know who maybe listening or who will pass your remarks on and they would and indeed have in the past caused him great offence."

"Titus there's only you and I here and you will not tell on me for the simple reason that you have decided that I am my Uncle's most likely successor and have therefore cast in your lot with me. You will not betray me because it would not be in your own interests."

"That's as may be Lord but there's always people about," and Titus nodded meaningfully at Marius crouched on the floor beside Drusus's chair.

"The boy! Who'd take any notice of a little brute like that. A common tart."

"Your Uncle trusts no one. He has spies everywhere. Almost certainly he has spies here and others following you. This boy will not be one but he could easily be approached by one now he has seen by us and asked what we spoke about today."

Marius listening to all this felt no resentment at the way Drusus spoke of him. He knew what he was and he knew that Drusus when he spoke of him as a slut and a whore spoke no more than the truth. Still he resolved in his heart that every spy in the Emperor's pay could cross question him about what had been said and he would not tell. They could whip him and tear his flesh with their heated pincers he would not betray the man who had saved him from Maccius and his friend. He did not dare to say this for a slave does not speak unless spoken to but he tried to convey his devotion by resting his head against the man's thigh. Drusus dropped his hand on the boy's head and idly ruffled his hair as he listened to Titus talk.

"The old man is ill now and failing. You are his obvious heir and you have only to survive to achieve that prize but you have enemies and you have spoken too frankly about his pleasures and he resents this. He destroyed your elder brother because he suspected him of plotting against him. He will do the same to you if you give him grounds for similar suspicions. You must above all guard your tongue. Do not criticise him - you will not have to remain silent for long. Then you must not only do nothing which will give him grounds for thinking you are disloyal, you must take action to show that you are loyal."

"How do I do that Titus. I am loyal. I may think the man an evil old pervert but I do not plot against him. What's the point, he will be gone soon…… "

"Oh what is it fellow now," Drusus snapped suddenly interrupting himself. Fabius had appeared with a silver salver and was standing by the table bowing deeply.

"The ewer of water you ordered Lord together with the bread and cheese." Fabius had felt that he should serve such distinguished visitors to his establishment himself and what is more while indulging the Emperor's heirs eccentricities by bringing to him the plebeian foods he had ordered he had taken it upon himself to show his respect by seeing that all the utensils, tray, ewer, drinking cup, plates and knife were of finely wrought silver.

"Oh good - give it to the boy," Drusus remarked carelessly.

"The boy Lord?" Fabius said startled.

"Yes man, the boy. You do not think I would touch such stuff myself. The brat's no doubt thirsty after his performance over the flames and he's sure to be hungry as well. Show me a boy who is not. Give it to him and be off. I have private matters to discuss."

With a face of thunder Fabius bent forward and thrust the tray at Marius. The boy took it from him and without troubling to use the silver cup lifted the ewer to his lips gratefully gulping the cold water down. His immediate thirst slaked he started on the bread and cheese with a will. He knew he was going to be in trouble when this great Lord had gone. Fabius would be able to take out his frustrations on his bottom and shoulders but for the moment he was content to enjoy his good fortune. Drusus watched him for a moment a half smile on his face and then he turned back to Titus.

"Well my friend," he said to the older man, "what have you to suggest."

"You must Lord," the other replied speaking carefully, "place yourself in a position where you cannot be suspected of plotting because it would be all but physically impossible for you to do so."

"What behave like the old man himself did in the reign of Augustus and banish myself to Rhodes?"

"I do not think Sir that would be sufficient. He was suspected of plotting even when he was there. No, I think you should go to an island but not to Rhodes. There is only one place where you can live which will give you a chance of convincing your Uncle you harbour no plans against him.."

"And that is?"

"Capri Sir." Seeing the expression on Drusus's face Titus hurried on. "Consider Sir if you are there you are under his eyes. You can do nothing without him knowing of it. He will not suspect you of plotting because he will know you are not doing so."

"But I hate the place. My Uncle has turned it into a vast brothel catering to his own cruel and diseased tastes."

"It will not be for long Sir. Truly it will not and it is your best chance. Indeed may be your only chance. He suspects you already. Unless you show him those suspicions are groundless he will kill you, just as he killed your brother and your father."

Drusus sat a moment his legs stuck out straight in front of him his eyes fixed gloomily on the floor. Then he spoke.

"Very well then. I will do as you suggest. And you may buy that boy for me as well. I will give him to my Uncle. It is the sort of gift he would appreciate."

(chapter LXXIX)

"I do but this brat is not like the free boys you procure for his pleasures. This one is just a slave and will be no worse off with my Uncle than he will be here. In fact he'll probably be better of on Capri when you think that he has to perform over the flames again tomorrow and that that if he survives that the young man I quarrelled with will be after him once more."

"How much shall I pay for him Sir?"

"Whatever is necessary. But that shouldn't be too high a sum. Let our host know that if he is unreasonable I will tell a few of my father's old veterans to pay him a call. A fair price mind but no more than a fair price."

Drusus strode off leaving Titus to do the bargaining.

(chapter LXXX)

Apart from ordering him to get up on the fore deck and telling him to keep out of the way nobody had spoken to him. He did not know where he was being taken nor what was going to be done to him. For some time Marius stood peering over the ship's rail watching the carts being unloaded on the quay side and the cargo brought on board.

Then the activity died down ad he settled himself on the deck only to be roused by the sound of shrill cries for help and men's voices cursing. Two burly slaves dragged another boy about the same age as Marius onto the fore deck His tunic was torn half off his shoulders and blood was running down his face. One of the men held him down while the other chained him by the ankle to a ring set in the deck while the boy kicked and screamed.

"Let the brat stay there." one of them said straightening himself and kicking the boy viciously in the ribs. "A night on the deck in the open will tame him."

The other laughed and they moved off together. The boy rolled over on his side curled into a ball and began to sob loudly. Marius crept over to him and touched one thin shaking shoulder. The boy jerked away from him and Marius his attempts at comforting his companion rejected returned to his place.

(chapter LXXXI)

"Get off," the boy said furiously driving his elbow into Marius's stomach. "How dare you touch me. Leave me alone. I'm not dirt like you, you filthy slave brat."

Marius didn't argue he simply moved away. It was a cold miserable night for both boys.

(chapter LXXXII)

Marius heard a footsteps approaching and he saw his Lord Drusus approaching, for he thought of the man who had saved him from the attentions of Maccius, as his Lord even though he was not quite clear in his own mind whose property he now was.

Drusus approached the fore deck his eyes fastened on the horizon ahead of the ship. He did not notice the boys seated on the deck but lent his elbows on the taffrail and stared ahead. He began to munch on an apple that he had been carrying. Marius stirred slightly and the man glanced down. His eyes rested on the hunched figure of the other boy and a look of distaste crossed his face then he saw Marius and his expression cleared.

"Well boy," he said gently, "we seem to keep meeting each other don't we."

Marius began to scramble to his feet but Drusus gestured to him to remain still.

"I came here," he continued to see if I could catch sight of Capri. Though why I should be eager to see the place I do not know."

He paused for a moment and then shrugged.

"You think I am free don't you boy. But I am not I am just as much a slave as you are and a slave to the same Master. I am just as much at the mercy of the Emperor as you are of your Master and they are one and the same person. And now I can see that filthy island that will be my prison for as long the old man lives. I tell you what boy if ever I leave that place it will be as Emperor myself and if I do I'll take you with me for luck. "

He lifted the apple to his mouth to take another bight and then looking down at Marius tossed the fruit to him.

"Have it boy. It'll be more of a treat for me than you.," and he turned on his heel and walked back to the poop deck leaving Marius who had not spoken once munching eagerly on the apple.

He looked over at the huddled shape of the other boy. With his knees pulled up to his chin the hem of his tunic had slipped down his thighs showing a band of paler skin. Marius noticed this and knew it was evidence that the boy was indeed free. Slave brats like himself allowed little or no clothing were tanned nut brown from head to toe.

Marius hesitated but better nature prevailed.

"Would you like some?" he asked tentatively.

"I don't take presents from slave brats. When my father finds me he'll have you beaten for insolence," was all the reply he received.

Marius shrugged but having learnt from bitter experience to be a thrifty careful boy he did not throw the core away but placed it in the shade of the taffrail for later use if required.

Then he dozed catching up on his sleep. He was roused by the sound of shod feet approaching. He had come, like all slave boys to recognise this as a danger signal and he sat very still and quiet trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Drusus's friend Titus appeared accompanied by two slaves. Marius recognised them as the same two thugs that had manhandled the other boy the previous night. Titus made his way up the companion way and then stood panting slightly from the effort. He had obviously only just finished his breakfast and he was patting his thick lips with a napkin. He dropped it on the deck and a small naked boy darted forward and snatched it up before scuttling back behind his owner.

"He gave you trouble last night?" Titus asked one of the men.

"Yes lord, screamed and fought all the way here."

"He doesn't look as if there's much fight in him now," Titus said stirring the boy contemptuously with his foot. "Unchain him and get him on his feet. I want to have a proper look at him."

The slave knelt down to unfasten the chain securing the boy's ankle to the deck. The chain fell away and at that moment the boy lashed out with his foot catching the man full in the face and tumbling him onto his back. The boy sprung to his feet and darted down into the well of the ship.

"Help me. Help me," he screamed. "I am a free boy. I have been kidnapped. Please help me."

One of the sailor who had been lounging on the deck stepped forward his arms spread wide.

"All right lad," he said. "Come to me I'll see your all right."

The boy ran to him. The sailor grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him back towards Titus laughing heartily. The boy realising he had been betrayed began to struggle to get away kicking and shouting but he could not shake free of his captor.

The slave who had been kicked in the face was back on his feet blood streaming from his nose that seemed to have been knocked out of line. He started towards the boy his fists clenched.

"Stop," Titus commanded, "Just bring the boy here and hold his arms tight for me."

The two slaves held the child between them facing Titus. Each man held one thin wrist in one hand twisting the boy's arms and locking them forcing him forward with hands clamped on his elbows.

"Sir," the boy said realising further resistance was useless and ceasing to struggle, "please let me go. My father will pay you well if you return me to him I promise you."

"I am afraid Helios you are mistaken there," Titus said softly. "Your father was pleased to give you to me when I explained that by doing so he would gain the favour of the Emperor."

He smiled down into the boy's horror stricken face and continued.

"Yes he thought you were a small price to pay for so important an advantage. Now let me see what sort of play thing I have obtained for my Master the Emperor."

Titus caught hold of Helios's tunic and with a sharp tug tore it from his body.

(chapter LXXXIII)

"It's not true," he screamed. "You're a liar. My father would never do such …"

He was silenced by Titus with a back handed slap across the mouth.

"Helios you must learn to be respectful to your betters. A wise little slave boy guards his tongue."

"I'm not a slave boy. My father would never…."

Helios's voice broke off in a shrill scream of pain. Marius could see from where he huddled to one side of the deck that Titus had taken the boy's small hairless balls between finger and thumb and was squeezing them unmercifully.

"Child, child," Titus said wearily, "you must learn not to argue. It's a slaves duty to obey not to argue. Do you understand."

"I'm not …Oh no please… No… please."

"Do you understand boy?"

"Oh … yes… I understand … Please don't do it again… please…"

"Then tell me what you are. You are a slave. What are you?""

Hanging his head, Helios muttered something and then screamed once again.

"No boy that won't do. It's not a secret. Say it loud so that we can all hear."

"I'm a slave."

"Now just to make sure you don't forget I'm going to beat you."

"My cane." Titus held out his hand and his little slave, who like a good boy had anticipated his master's wishes and had scampered off to get this instrument as soon as Helios had made his dash for freedom gave it to him. The boy was grinning broadly and his tiny prick was erect. The cane always aroused him and he was happy that someone else other than himself was going to get a taste of it for a change.

"Hold the brat firm now," Titus commanded.

He laid the rod gently across Helios bare chest measuring his distance.

"Please.. .Please.. I'll do anything… Please…" Helios sobbed.

"Master you must call me Master," Titus almost whispered..

"Master please Master…"

"That's better boy. Much better but I must make sure you remember your lesson in future and the quickest and surest way to teach a slave brat is with the cane."

Titus lifted the rod high over his right shoulder paused for a moment smiling into the tear stained face of the terrified boy and then brought it hissing down across the child's thin chest. The fierce whistle of the cane as it descended was followed by the sharp crack of wood striking bare flesh and then a fraction of a second later by Helios's shrill scream as the pain caused through his body. Titus paused watching the thin white line left by the cane fill with blood, turn red and then begin to deepen at it's edges as the bruising spread. A bead of blood began to form where the tip of the cane had nipped the boy on the outer edge of his left nipple. Then Titus set to work in earnest slashing the cane alternately right to left, left to right as the boy howled and bucked in the grasp of the two burly slaves. The tip of the cane, when it curled round the boy's rib cage, ripped the tightly drawn skin and drew blood.

At last Titus paused. Helios stood before him still firmly held by the two men his head bowed, sobbing quietly. Titus took the boy's chin in his left hand and tipping his head back looked down into his face wet with tears and snot.

"Now the final part of your lesson boy," he said his voice thick with excitement.

"Hold him still now," he commanded his two slaves, "this takes skill."

He stepped back and laid the tip of the cane full across the centre of the boy's left nipple.

"Master No … Please …" Helios sobbed sensing what was to come but his pleas were cut of by a shrill scream as the cane slashed down yet again, this time splitting his nipple open.

"Hold him steady now," Titus ordered again as the boy screaming hysterically writhed and fought in his captors' grasp.

Titus brought the cane back over his left shoulder. Paused and then with scientific precision repeated the process with Helios's right nipple.

"Now chain him up again," he ordered turning away. "I don't want him jumping overboard and cheating the Emperor in that way."

Chapter 17

"He seems to have rearranged your nose somewhat," Titus remarked to the slave whom Helios had kicked in the face.

"Yes he has Master," the man growled angrily. "I wish you'd let me have him I'd give him something to cry about."

"Don't make a fuss Glaucus. You weren't much to look at before. I bought you for your muscles not your looks. Still you deserve some compensation from the brat for the pain he's caused you. You can teach him what our Emperor's little minnows have to do." [Author's note: this is a reference to the team of young boys that Tiberius kept on Capri trained to swim between his lags and nuzzle him - Suetonius, The Twelve Ceasars, Tiberius 44]

(chapter LXXXIV)

"Well get on with it then man."

Glaucus grinning broadly shrugged his tunic off and began to remove his breech clout. He was a heavily muscled brute his body covered in a mat of coarse red hair.

"Oh Drusus come and watch this. I think you'll find it entertaining," Titus said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Marius whose attention had been fixed on the torture of Helios saw that Drusus was now standing on the fore deck his face expressionless.

"I've been here since you started to beat the boy," he replied. "I heard screaming and I though it might be," for some reason that Marius could not understand the man stopped and glanced quickly at him before continuing.

"Tell me Titus why did you choose to beat the boy on his chest rather than his bottom. That's the usual thing to do surely."

"In part personal taste. I like to look into the eyes of the brat I'm flogging and see the terror and pain there. Then the Emperor is a cruel man and it amuses him to have boys about with tender nipples," Titus smiling rolled his finger and thumb together suggestively. "And all sorts of other reasons too."

There was a clink of iron and a sharp cry from Helios.

"Ah," Titus exclaimed cheerfully, "it sounds as though our good Glaucus is just beginning to give our young friend his next lesson. Do watch this Drusus, it'll get you in the right mood for the pleasures of Capri."

Glaucus had gripped hold of Helios by his hair and had pulled him to his knees. He was pulling the boy's face up towards his crutch. Helios was crying and doing his best to resist. Marius saw that the man's erect prick ribbed with red and blue veins jutted out of the great forest of ginger hair it's swollen tip touching his stomach. Marius with a feeling of shame realised that he himself was hard.

"Come on boy lick it," Glaucus grated. "All right then see how you like this."

Twisting his right hand in Helios's hair he bent forward and squeezed between the finger and thumb of his free hand the boy's right nipple from which blood was still oozing. Helios howled and his body jerked convulsively. Then the boy's head was thrust into the man's crutch his tongue working furiously.

"Amazing what a motivator pain is," Titus remarked lightly. "Now Helios listen to me run your tongue the full length of Glaucus's cock. Yes right from it's root to it's tip. And again boy. Good you're learning. Round the top of his prick now. Yes roll it round and along the nick in the top. Good boy you're doing well now. Weren't you a silly lad to make such a fuss. Now something different - down to his balls - lick them now. Kiss them. Can you take one of them in your mouth. Yes. You'll have to go a bit lower and push your bum out. Very good."

Titus started forward and placing one hand on Helios bum his index finger pressing into his slit slipped his other round the front of the boy. He looked up grinning.

"The little whore's hard," he said. "Taking to it like a duck to water."

He straightened wiped his index finger on Helios's hair and stepped back.

"Now I think Glaucus is almost ready to go. You have done well child. You can stop sucking his balls. Just run your tongue once again up to the tip of that big rod of his. Right now take it in your mouth. Good boy. It is a mouthful isn't it?"

Glaucus releasing his old on Helios's hair grabbed the boy by both ears and pulled him forward so that he had to take the full length of his cock. Marius saw the boy's eyes bulged and rolled in terror, his chest heaved painfully. Then Glaucus relaxed his hold for a second allowing Helios to pull back and drag a breath of air into his chest only to pull him forward a second later.

"Try and swallow it boy when it goes in. It'll be easier then," Titus advised.

Marius watched fascinated it was clear Helios was a quick learner. Titus ceased his instructions and now the only sounds were the slap of the wavelets against the ships hull, the cries of a seagull wheeling overhead, the suck of Helios's lips and the harsh panting of man and boy. Glaucus increased the speed and urgency of his thrusting. With a shout he froze his body arched, the muscles in his bum pulsing as he pumped his seed into the boy.

Then he released his hold on the Helios's ears and stood back. Marius saw the stricken expression on the boy's face as he slipped down onto his knees on the deck cum dribbling down his chin.

"Excellent Helios," Titus crowed. "Now don't let me hear any more nonsense about being a free boy or anything. You're a natural little tart and I'm sure the Emperor will be pleased with you and just think how happy that will make your father."

(chapter LXXXV)

Helios rolled himself into a ball on the deck, pulling his knees up to his chest and thrust his hands between his legs. His body shook racked by silent sobbing.

Marius feeling a little guilty, for he still had an erection, sat for a moment watching him. He felt for the other boy horribly. It wouldn't have bothered him much being made to suck Glaucus with the other men looking on. But he was a slave and knew it. Pride and modesty was something he knew he was not allowed. Helios though was different. He still had the feelings of a free boy. Marius tried to think back to the time he too was free and had those feelings but he found he could not do it. It was not all that long ago but that part of him had been utterly destroyed. Soon this would happen to Helios as well. The process had already been begun.

After a time Marius could bear it no longer. His attempts at friendship had already been rejected by Helios but he didn't care. He crept across the deck and seated himself beside the other boy. After a second or two he rested his hand on his shoulder. Helios shivered but this time he made no attempt to drive Marius away.

Eventually Helios sniffed loudly.

"My father didn't do that," he said in a muffled voice. "I don't care what they said he'd never do that to me."

He sat up and rested his head on his knees. Marius slipped his arm about his shoulder and hugged him encouragingly.

"And I'm not a slave. I'm free," Helios said defiantly.

Marius was young but he had learnt much in the last few weeks and now he spoke out of the wisdom of that experience.

"Helios," he said, "you were free I know but you are not now. Accept it. They'll hurt you till you do and you'll have to accept it in the end."

Helios said nothing but Marius felt his body tense rebelliously.

"Listen Helios," he said urgently, "a few weeks ago I was free. My father was rich and powerful. I lived in one of our farms in the country with slaves to look after me. Then it all changed and it has changed for you too."

Helios remained silent.

(chapters LXXXVI-LXXXVII)

Marius in his eagerness had half turned towards Helios and was resting his free hand on his knee. Now he slid his hand up the inside of the other boy's thigh till it was cupping his tiny hairless balls.

"You're hard now," he said moving his thumb experimentally to check if that was so. "I am as well, it's no good struggling against it, that's what they have made us."

Helios stirred. Marius felt his hand explore his crutch. Helios was checking the accuracy of his argument.

The two boys sat together for a moment their hands resting on each other's stiff little cocks. Then, Marius never could decide how exactly it happened and who took the initiative they were lying side by side on the deck their faces buried in each other's crutches their tiny throbbing little pricks in each other's mouths.

Even as he was doing it he knew it was wrong. It was a rule in Scyrax's house, it was a rule in Fabius's brothel the slaves were not allowed to enjoy each other. Their bodies were the properties of their Masters and so were the pleasures that could be gained from them. But alone on the fore deck, hidden from the rest of the ship by the rail, unseen by any beings other than the gulls wheeling overhead they would never be caught. No one would be bothered with two little slave brats like them.

They were both too engrossed in what they were doing to hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The first Marius knew that anyone else was there was a boot thudding into his bottom. He rolled away from Helios and saw Drusus glaring down at him his face black with rage.

(chapter LXXXVIII)

Perhaps that was why he was so angry and why his rage was directed solely at Mariullus. It was a natural disgust at seeing a little brute like him involved in reducing a free boy to his own degraded level. Yes Drusus decided that must be it. That was the reason. It could not be any feeling of jealousy. The mere thought was ridiculous. Who could feel jealous of a thing like Mariullus. If you wanted him you took him. It was that simple. He was a pretty little fellow admittedly with a bloom of health and vitality to him that was certainly attractive. Also he could not but admire the spirit he had shown when in danger of dying in the flames at Fabius's brothel. However when you got down to it what did that really involve just a desperate urge for self preservation common to all animals. The same urge that caused for instance a hare to run from the hounds until it's heart was bursting. It was nothing really.

Any way it didn't really matter why he was so angry. It was his duty to thrash Mariullus and he was going to do it.

He began to unfasten his belt. It was a warm day and he was wearing a light tunic loosely gathered at the waste by a narrow length of leather about the width and thickness of his thumb tipped at either end by two silver tags and fastened with a knot not a buckle.

It would he felt grimly be adequate for his purposes. He did not want to break the boy's flesh but he wanted to hurt him and this would do the trick. He doubled it the two loose ends in his right hand. Used in this way the double thickness of leather would give the strap extra weight, later he would use it undoubled to seek out the tenderest parts of the boy's rump.

Marius was huddled up against the ships rail. Drusus kicked him viciously again.

"Up boy," he ordered. "Hands on the rail. Get your head down and your legs apart. Come on boy get that bottom of yours up in the air."

He put a hand on the back of Marius's head pushing it downwards while lifting his bottom upwards with a hand between the boys legs. It really was he thought, as he looked down at it, rather an attractive bottom, firm and well muscled and with two very noticeable dimples on either side. A nice even golden brown colour, it's smoothness marred now a little by the goose pimples that the expectation of an imminent flogging often brought to the thighs and bottoms of young boys, with the residual markings from an earlier beating. Nothing permanent it was just that the deepest bruising was still coming out.

Drusus smiled grimly. He would renew those bruises and add a few more before he was finished with the lad.

The boy had been beaten before. There was no need to remind him of the rules. That he was to stay down and in position until his beating was over and he was given permission to move.

Drusus lifted the doubled strap over his head. He paused and smiled grimly as he saw the boy's slim body tense in anticipation of the blow to come. He wondered at how small the boy was and felt a pang of pity. Then he brought the trap whistling down with all his strength and weight behind it across the child's tightly clenched rump. The blow fell square across the centre of Marius's bottom with an explosive crack. The boy's body jerked convulsively as the pain ripped through him. He grunted not because he was too proud to cry out but because the shock of the blow had driven the air from his lungs. Indeed Marius was a slave and he had no pride. If he was hurt he screamed and he was screaming loudly before the second stroke had even landed. Titus landed this below but parallel to the first stroke. Titus laid the second the third, the fourth, and the fifth stripes in similar fashion parallel to and below each preceding one. Two of the ships crew attracted by the sound of Marius howls and the crack of leather against boy's flesh scrambled up onto the fore deck to watch the fun.

Drusus paused to inspect his handiwork. He ran a finger along one of the livid welts that now ran across Marius bottom and felt the boy shudder at his touch. For a moment there was silence apart from the sound of Marius's sobbing.

"Get your bottom up boy," Drusus snapped, " and get your feet apart. You're beginning to lose position."

Marius managed a muffled "Sorry Master," as he shuffled his feet apart and strained to push his bottom upwards.

Now Drusus thought the skilled part of his work began. So far the beating had been mere routine. No doubt Marius in his short life had experienced many similar and would in the future do so as well. Now having warmed up the boy's bottom and lain a foundation of pain on which to build he would give him a lesson that he would not forget until the end of his life. It was not he told himself that he was a cruel man. He was getting no pleasure out of flogging the boy although he was he noticed hard and that did not usually happen when he was engaged in such a task. He was doing it simply because Marius had misbehaved and had to be corrected although he had to admit the boy was a pretty one and his bottom with it's deepening bruises and welts somehow even more attractive than before.

Drusus changed his grip on the strap winding one end of it about his wrist, he swung it back over his right shoulder. The single strap was lighter than the double length he had previously been using but more supple and the silver tag on it's end gave it bite. He began work on the on the inside of the child's thighs. He slashed the strap down with carefully judged precision allowing it's tip to curl about the boy's firm rounded limb. Beads of blood formed where the metal tip snapped against the lad's tender flesh. Slowly he worked his way upwards getting closer and closer to the junction of the boy's legs. Judging from the way Marius howled and twisted under the lash Drusus was being successful in his aim of bringing the boy to fresh peaks of agony.

But there was worse to come. With nicely judged precision he laid one final stroke across the inside of the boy's thigh so that it's tip fell just below his scrotum. One centimetre higher and it would have caught it.

"You've let your bottom drop boy," he snapped.

Another gasped muffled "Sorry Master," was wrung from the whimpering boy as he pushed his rump higher.

Drusus waited until satisfied that the child's bottom was fully exposed to the strap then he lashed it down landing its tip square across the lips of his anus. Again Marius screamed shrilly. His body was convulsed with pain but still he managed to retain the grip of both his hands on the ship's taffrail.

While he waited for Marius's body to absorb the pain, for there is no point in hurrying a beating, the aim should be to make the chastised boy feel every cut to the full, Drusus once again doubled the strap in his hand. Then satisfied that the boy was ripe for the final cut he slashed viciously upwards between his legs catching both balls and prick a heavy blow.

This time discipline broke and Marius clasping both hands to his crutch collapsed moaning on the deck.

Drusus had no doubt of his duty. Slaves could not be allowed to escape immune from a flagrant flouting of the rules.

He kicked Marius so hard that his body was lifted from the deck.

"Get back in position," he commanded.

Slowly Marius dragged himself to his feet. Blindly stretching out his hands to find the rail and painfully bending forward and spreading his legs once again. He was conscious of a desperate aching all consuming pain but in addition to the pain was an overwhelming sense of shame. He had been caught by his Lord breaking one of the fundamental rules that governed the conduct of a slave boy and when he was justly punished for that he had not been able even to take properly the beating so rightly inflicted on him. He had failed his Lord, the man who had saved him from Maccius and the fire.

Watching the boy Drusus sensed something of his feelings. Although he knew it was weak of him his heart softened. He gently rested one hand on Marius's bruised and aching bottom feeling the boy shiver under his touch..

"You know boy I have to do this," he said almost gently. "Just one more stroke boy and I have finished. You can go down after this."

He was amazed by his failure to apply the rule in all it's well reasoned severity, he who believed so strongly in discipline and order.

"Thank you Master," Marius managed to gasp through his sobs. He knew how great the mercy was that was being shown him. The rule was that the beating should continue until either he lost consciousness or he managed to remain in position to his Master's satisfaction.

A second later Marius was lying again on the deck his hands clasped to the agony in his crutch and Drusus was walking quickly back to his quarters in the after cabin still wondering what possessed him to let the brat off so lightly.

(Chapter LXXXIX)

"You won't get beaten again lying here? Helios asked anxiously.

"No it's all right provided we don't do anything to each other," Marius whispered hoarsely. He felt the other boy's hand smoothing his hair.

The wind fell away and the ship lay becalmed. Hours passed and Marius began to take account of his injuries. He still hurt and thought it would be likely that the pain would remain with him for a few days but over all he felt he had got of fairly lightly. The skin on his bottom was not broken, the cuts on the inside of his thighs although painful had ceased to bleed and were really little more than nicks, his balls and cock were badly bruised and hurt horribly but that was all. There was no permanent damage and there could so easily have been. He knew he would have fared much worse if he had been caught with another slave boy in the House of Scyrax.

The shadows began to lengthen and then the boys were startled by the sound of heavy footsteps. They huddled together in fear. A sailor appeared on the fore deck carrying a bowl in one hand and a bucket in the other.

"Here you are," he said roughly, "water and bean stew and porridge. The young Lord said bring them to you. I said it was spoiling you if he asked me. Brats are easier to manage if they're hungry but he just cursed me and told me to do as I was told."

Chapter 18

(Chapter XC)

(Chapter XCI)

The ship slid slowly through the gash between the towering rocks as the men strained on the heavy oars. Ahead of them the boys could see the landing stage. At one end stood the white washed guard room with five or six praetorian guardsmen lounging on benches outside it. On the quay itself squatted a gang of half starved near naked wretches with shaved heads and heavy collars round their necks. Slaves mustered to unload the ship and carry it's cargo on their shoulders up the steep path to the palace above. Three burly men carrying thick staves and with short whips tucked in their belts, clearly their overseers, stood to one side of them talking quietly together. A couple of dock workers, free men to judge from their well fed appearance emerged from a shed wiping their mouths with the back of their hands.

The ship crept towards the quay. The Guardsmen stood up straightened their uniform and began to move towards the quay side. The overseers shouted and cracked a few heads with their wooden cudgels. The slaves knelt bowing their heads. Clearly they were forbidden even to look at the vessel and her high ranking passengers.

Ropes snaked out from the stern and bows of the ship and were caught by the dockers. With a great deal of rattling and shouting a gang plank was pushed from the boat to the quay side. Drusus and Titus strolled down it to be saluted by the praetorians. Drusus stood chatting for a moment chatting with the men. They spoke together in the grim half familiar way of professional soldiers though of different ranks and units.

Glaucus whose nose was still bent and inflamed from Helios's kick appeared on the bow deck. "Come on the pair of you," he growled bad-temperedly having freed Helios's ankle from it's shackle, "we've got to get the livestock off of before the rest of the cargo can be unloaded and the Praetorians have to register all slaves being imported onto the island."

Holding them by the arms he hustled them off the ship.

"Ah," the lead Praetorian said to Drusus catching sight of the two boys, "You'll have to excuse us Sir - duty calls."

"Bring the brats across to the guardroom," he ordered Glaucus.

Drusus turned to catch up Titus who was already making his way up the track to the top of the cliff. He hesitated and then turned back. He knew what was coming next and strangely felt reluctant to leave Marius to face it on his own. Vaguely he felt the boy deserved something better than that. In two long strides he caught up with Glaucus and without saying anything took Marius from him.

To one side of the guard room charcoal glowed dully in a brazier from which a couple of iron rods protruded. Beside this was a large wooden log. The purpose of these objects was all too obvious and Titus felt the child's body tense under his hand.

"Come on boy," he urged softly, "you danced over the hot coals in that whore house you can face this also."

He half smiled as he saw the boy bring his chin up and square his thin shoulders.

"Take this one first," he ordered as two of the Praetorians came towards them while a third pulled one of the branding irons from the coals and examined its glowing end.

It was kindly meant. He thought it would be easier for the brat if he did not have to watch and listen to the other boy being branded before taking his turn.

"Very good Lord," one of the guardsman replied adding almost apologetically, "It's the Emperor's orders any slave boy imported to the island must be branded so as to make it easier to identify him if he takes a runner. Very touchy they say he is about the stories going round about his behaviour here and some of the boys are sort of special too. Not the usual run of brat at all. Missed by their families as often as not."

"Now come on lad."

Marius stepped forward. His legs seemed to lack co-ordination and his throat was so tight that he could hardly breath. The thought of the red hot iron being pressed against his bare flesh filled him with sick terror but he was resolved not to show this if he could. He was going to show his Master, the man who saved him from Maccius and whom everybody, even the Praetorian Guardsmen treated with respect, that his faith in him was not misplaced. Marius had been reduced over a few weeks from a proud little free boy to a frightened broken willed slave brat but Drusus's few words of encouragement had rekindled for a brief moment at least a spark of spirit.

The two guardsmen gripped him by his arms above the elbow and hustled him forward. They threw him face down over the log so that his bottom was raised in the air ready for the iron. Somewhere behind him he could hear Helios sobbing fearfully. The two men held Marius in place, pinioned by his ankles and wrists. He heard metal grate on metal as the branding iron was withdrawn from the brazier. He braced himself waiting for the touch of the hot iron against his bottom.

(Chapter XCII)

(Chapter XCIII)

Marius dragged himself away on his hands and knees. Now that the first agony had passed a feeling of shame overwhelmed him. He had disgraced himself howling and dirtying himself. His Master whom he had hoped to impress would know now that he was no different from any other miserable little slave brat. He pulled himself painfully to his feet trying to choke back his sobs.

He began to be aware of something else apart from the searing pain of the brand. On the quay there were shouts and the sound of wooden staves thumping down across bare shoulders as the overseers urged the slave gang into action. For a moment he stood trembling, his head bowed in shame. Then blinking back his tears he forced himself to look around. He saw that Drusus had gone. Perhaps he thought the man had left before the branding iron had been applied to his quivering rump. He hoped so but he felt it was more likely that Drusus had walked off disgusted by his screaming and worst of all by his dirtying himself. He stood there filthy and humiliated, tears of shame flowing down his face.

Yet, had he been able to see himself dispassionately he would have realised that the very depth of the shame that he was experiencing showed that his spirit had not been totally crushed. A slave boy when he is fully broken does not feel shame.

Marius was roused from his own misery by the sounds of Helios screaming. Glaucus was dragging the boy to where the Praetorian Guardsmen stood. Helios, panic stricken, was struggling desperately, throwing his naked body about, driving his bare heels into the paving of the quay in a vain attempt to escape the inevitable.

"Well friend you seem to be having some problems with that brat," one of the guardsmen called out laughing.

"A problem is what the little whore is," Glaucus growled savagely. "He's already tried to make a run for it once. You better watch him a right little trouble maker he is."

"Come on curse you," he said jerking savagely on Helios's arm. The terrified boy screeched hysterically and buried his teeth in the back of Glaucus's hand. The man swore loudly and released his hold. Helios darted off along the quay as Glaucus stood cursing furiously, shaking his wounded hand from which blood poured.

The Praetorians laughing set off in pursuit of the boy. One of the men overseeing the slaves unloading the ship moved to block the path up the cliff. Helios checked and turned but he had nowhere to go. The Guardsmen hallooing cheerfully and obviously enjoying their sport soon had him cornered. Two Praetorians grabbed him and hauled back towards the guard house.

"You're a bit too ready to run young man," one of the men said grimly, "we'll have to cure you of that."

"Why has the brat been brought here?" he continued asking Glaucus. "Do you know."

"He's destined for the aquarium," Glaucus replied, adding spitefully, "and I hope the little tyke drowns there." [Author's note: this is a reference to the team of boys, often of good family according to Suetonius, known as "little fish" kept by the Emperor Tiberius on Capri who were trained to among other things swim between his legs and kiss his private parts.]

"He certainly got a good bite of your hand," the guardsman remarked. "You can wield the meat cleaver if you want."

"Nothing would give me more pleasure," Glaucus replied grimly.

Followed by Glaucus the two soldiers dragged Helios over to the log across which Marius had lain to be branded. They did not force Helios down across it. One held him firmly facing it in a full nelson, hands locked behind the boy's neck. The other disappeared into the guardhouse to reappear second or two later holding a cleaver which he handed to Glaucus.

"Put your left foot up on the log boy," the soldier commanded Helios.

(Chapter XCIV-XCV)

"Put your foot on the log," the man repeated and drawing one of the irons out of the charcoal brazier he advanced it's glowing end towards the side of Helios's bare leg. Sobbing wildly the boy obeyed.

"Just the first joint of the big toe," the man ordered as Glaucus bent forward measuring his blow with care. The cleaver flashed through the air and thudded down into the wood.

For a moment there was silence except for Helios wild crying then the soldier spoke.

"The stupid brat moved his foot at the last moment," he said roughly. "I'll hold it in place. Now come on let's get this job done."

Again Glaucus raised the cleaver in the air again it sliced down but this time it did it's work slicing off the end of the boy's big toe… Helios screamed shrilly, blood gushed from his foot.

"Use the hot iron to cauterise the wound," the soldier commanded still holding Helios foot in place on the log. Glaucus grinning evilly did as he was told.

Helios was still screaming when they hurled him face down over the log and branded him on the rump. Like Marius once the men released their grip on his wrists and ankles he rolled from the log and lay writhing in his own filth. He was not allowed much respite for Glaucus, still obviously intent on revenge for his broken nose, was soon hammering heavy kicks into the boy. Marius could see each kick lifting Helios's slight body as the man's boots thumped into the child. Instinctively he moved forward to try to help the other boy but Glaucus cursed him and told him to get back.

"If my boots won't rouse him I know something that will," he remarked to the watching guardsmen and lifting an iron from the charcoal brazier touched Helios bare thigh with it's glowing end. The effect was immediate. Helios scrambled to his feet and began to hobble across to where Marius stood.

"He's not so nimble now," Glaucus remarked. Tthe guardsmen laughed as Glaucus kicked Helios hard in the bottom to hurry him along and to add to the men's amusement.

Driving the boys in front of him he made his way along the quay side. The slave gang was still engaged in unloading the ship. As they passed one half starved youth, his only clothes a filthy scrap of rag about his waist, came staggering down the gangway bent under the weight of a large crate. Half way down the gangway he lost his footing. He fell sideways landing heavily on the quay one leg twisted grotesquely under him. The contents of the crate, a load of earthenware pots shattered on the ground. The lad tried desperately to stand but could not.. In an instant two of the overseers were onto him swinging their staves.

Glaucus paused to watch as the two heavily built men belaboured the helpless slave, so much smaller and weaker, themselves with their heavy staffs. At first the youth continued to try get to his feet attempting to ward off the blows raining down on him with his arms but soon he was driven down to all fours. Then he rolled onto his side and lay still as the blows thudded into him. At last the two men stopped and leaving the slave's broken and bloody body to lie where it had fallen returned to supervise the unloading of the vessel.

As soon as Glaucus's attention was distracted Helios had collapsed to his knees and then crawled off to one side where he tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. Marius had hesitated for a moment and then squatted down beside him and slipped his arm around the other boy's shoulders. His bottom hurt horribly where the iron had scorched the Emperor's insignia into his flesh but he knew that the pain he was feeling must be much less than that being experienced by Helios.

The beating over Glaucus turned to look for the two boys. Marius from where he crouched could clearly see that the man had been aroused by the savage beating of the youth that he had just witnessed. The harsh treatment he had received might not have totally destroyed his spirit but it had taught him that a slave boy if he was to survive had to make the most of his chances.

Without bothering to stand upright he scuttled forward and thrusting his head under the hem of Glaucus's tunic reached up to pull away the man's loincloth. He crouched there only his legs and bottom visible, his rump and the backs of his thighs stained with filth from when he had shit himself as the brand seared it's mark into his flesh..

Marius's nostrils were filled with the stale pungent smell of the man's unwashed body a mixture of dried sweat, urine and faeces. Glaucus's cock, swollen and ribbed with purple veins, rose in front of his face demanding and imperious. Marius ran his tongue along it's length from it's base in the forest of coarse pubic hair to it's rounded top. For a moment he explored the slit of the man's urethra with the tip of his tongue then he took his rod into his mouth.

Glaucus grabbed Marius by his ears and pulled him savagely forward.

"Take it whore," he panted. "Can't get too much cock can you slut?"

The man's prick filled Marius's mouth reaching far down into his throat. The boy swallowed desperately fighting for air. He felt the man's coarse hair pressed hard against his lips and nose. Just as he thought he was about to suffocate Glaucus eased for a second his hold on his ears. Desperately Marius dragged fetid air into his lungs but an instant later the man pulled him forward once more blocking his throat with his thick pulsating man hood. Again and again the man thrust his rod deep into his throat until the blood roared in Marius head and black waves seemed about to close about his head. Marius used all the skills learnt during his time in Fabius's boy's brothel to bring Glaucus to a climax making tongue and lips and throat work to this end. He tasted the tart flavour of the man's pre-cum on his tongue and then Glaucus surged filling his mouth and throat with warm metallic tasting fluid.

Glaucus satisfied released his grip on Marius's ears. Then kicking Helios to his feet he drove the two boys up the pathway. This time however he did not object when Marius went to the aid of the hobbling Helios. At the postern gate to the Imperial Palace he handed the two boys over to a porter. Thus Marius his chin and lips stained with dried cum that had trickled from his mouth, his body encrusted in filth, entered the service of the Emperor Tiberius.

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