Zelamir

A Roman Holiday

Part 6

Corax stopped on his way across the inn yard to have a few words with the woman in the kitchen. Then rejoining Marcus he led him out into the street. Padding along on his bare feet behind Corax and his master Pisclus gazed about himself in amazement. Brought up in the country with no opportunity to travel, both because of his family's poverty and the imperial order of banishment, this was the first time in his life that he could remember being in any sort of town. The peddlers with their mules, the two legionaries in full uniform shouldering their way through the crowd, the auxiliary cavalry man his breast plate glistening in the sun as he clattered on his mount down the paved street, the traders crying their wares from the road side stalls, all were new to him. To Corax and Marcus, who had seen Rome and the great cities of the East, Colchester was a small provincial town, to Pisclus it was the most exciting thing he had seen in his young life.

Corax glanced back over his shoulder.

"That boy of yours," he remarked to Marcus, "is a disgrace. People pay a lot of attention to the appearance and conduct of a master's slaves. The boy himself is not bad looking but the rag that he is wearing makes it look as though he's a field slave rather than an attendant on a wealthy man's son. And then his behaviour. He's walking about with his head up in the air like a free boy on a sight seeing trip."

"I'm sorry Father," Marcus replied. "I'll speak to him."

"Speak to him." Corax laughed. "Anyway here's a place where we can at least do something about his clothes."

They had stopped beside a stall selling cheap garments. The proprietor came hurrying up to them rubbing his hands, sensing a profitable sale.

"I want something a bit more appropriate for my son's slave than the bit of sacking he is wearing," Corax announced.

"Yes Sir. Certainly Sir. I am sure we will find something suitable Sir. Such a pretty little fellow," the man said eyeing Pisclus up and down, "a pity to spoil his appearance with a shabby old tunic like that. How about this Sir. Fine cloth, worn over one shoulder and gathered at the waist with a broach, fancy embroidery of phalluses and rose buds round the borders, ideal for a pretty, lively young slave boy like the one you've got there Sir."

"Well we'll try it on him," Corax said. "Come on boy strip now. Quick. What do you think you're doing there standing as if this had nothing to do with you."

Obediently Pisclus pulled off his old tunic and stood there naked on the edge of the street as people bustled past. The man summoned a youth from out of the recesses of the stall who looped the length of cloth over the boy's left shoulder, took it down to his right hip and then round his waist before fastening the ends together with a large circular broach on his right side. The man spoke as he fussed about adjusting the cloth.

"It will fall just right Sir. You will see. Just long enough to cover that tight little bum when he's standing upright. There you are Sir. What do you think Sir."

He stood back so that Corax could inspect the child and continued talking.

"The boy's a new acquisition I take it Sir. Our country boys are pretty enough but a bit wild. Well it's not so long ago that this place was outside the Empire. Just marsh and forest so its' natural I suppose they're that way. Nothing that a sound whipping or two will not set right mind you. A couple of good floggings and that boy will be as attentive and willing little fellow as you could wish for. He just needs curbing like all boys of his sort that's all. We've got a selection of whips if you want Sir, very reasonably priced, which I would be glad to show you."

Corax smiled bleakly at the man but spoke to Pisclus.

"Now boy your dressed more appropriately let's see you behave better too. Keep your eyes on your Master boy. Don't wander about flat footed gawking at everything. Try to remember you're here to serve your betters or Marcus'll have to give you another taste of the strap."

"It is difficult Sir to train these boys I know," the stall holder said sympathetically. "Why the time I had with Janus here before he was any real use to me. My arm would ache with tiredness after flogging him sometimes. Day after day, the boy screaming, wife complaining of the noise and apparently getting no where. Then one day after I'd thrown a bucket of water over him to bring him round he opened his eyes and I knew from the look in then that he was broken and he's been as good as gold since. It takes time but it will come. It's just a question of perseverance. Though I have a way to get him up on the balls of his feet if you want me to use it."

" I'd be glad if you would provided it doesn't mark him permanently."

"No, no, I just singe his heels with a hot iron so they're tender. The marks go in a day or two and if he hasn't learnt his lesson by then you just repeat the process. Mind you, in general, once is enough."

"Excellent idea," Corax said.

"Very well Sir. I'll just take the boy into the blacksmiths next door. Janus come along with me. I'll need you to hold the child's legs. Come along boy."

The man took hold of Pisclus by the arm and lead him towards a shed next to his stall. The boy not knowing exactly what was going to be done to him but certain that it would be nasty glanced over his shoulder appealingly at Marcus but the youth returned his gaze blankly.

The blacksmiths shop was a noisy dark building. The only light came from the open door onto the street and the glow of the hot coals in the fire at the it's opposite end. The blacksmith himself, a huge man, stripped to the waste was hammering a red hot bar into shape on an anvil next to the fire. An assistant, also half naked and well muscled, held the iron bar in place with a long handled pare of pincers while a naked boy, not much older than Pisclus himself, toiled at the bellows.

The smith sensing the presence of stranger stopped his hammering and turned to the door.

"Just come to burn this brats heels for his master," the man explained.

Ah. All right then there are hot irons in the fire. Help yourself," the Smith replied indifferently and returned to his work.

The man marched Pisclus over to a work bench that ran the length of one wall. He told the boy to stand facing the wall and to take a firm grip of the top of the bench. Looking back Pisclus saw him walk over to the fire and draw from it an iron bar whose end glowed dull red with heat. Janus knelt on the floor behind Pisclus. At a word from the man he took a firm grip of the boy's right leg just above the ankle and lifted his foot from the ground.

"Hold him firmly now," the man commanded and ran the glow bar briefly across the boy's heel. Pisclus screamed shrilly at the searing pain. Janus released his leg.

"Now the other foot," the stall keeper said returning to the fire for a freshly heated bar.

Pisclus turned and darted for the open door. The black smith, with surprising speed for so large a man, moved to block his way.

"Please..... No please ......Please Sir.....," Pisclus blubbed.

"Go back to the bench boy or do you want me to tell your master you've been disobedient?" The smith spoke evenly and quietly.

"Please Sir...Please...," Pisclus pleaded and then seeing no sign of pity in the man's face turned and hobbled whimpering back to the bench.

A couple of seconds later he shrieked again as the hot iron was applied to his other heel.

When they returned to the stall Corax was examining a tray of cheap trinkets. He held one up. It was an anklet in the form of a thin silver chain with a three or four small bells attached to it.

"I'll have this one," he said. "Have your boy lock it round the brat's right ankle."

After Corax had paid the stall owner they continued on their way to the baths. Pisclus no longer gazed around. He walked with his head bowed his eyes fixed on his masters back happy to avoid the eyes of passers by. Walking on the balls of his feet forced him to exaggerate the jut of his bottom and to slightly swing his hips. The tinkle of the bells on his anklet, the feel of the brief tunic with it's obscene border brushing against the side of his bare thighs filled him with shame. It wasn't that he begrudged Marcus anything that he could give or yield to him but he still had enough spirit left in him to wish that his availability was not made so publicly obvious.

Corax on the other hand was pleased. No imperial spy would ever recognise in the little boy tart with his mincing walk and minimal clothing the son of an ancient patrician family. It amused him too to see the misery of the boy as he experienced in his turn the humiliations that Corax himself had known in his early years as his grandfather's pet.

Bestia screams subsided into a low whimpering. The livid stripes which scored his chest and stomach burnt fiercely. The pain from where the rope had torn the skin of his wrists was hardly less intense. His arms which supported the whole weight of his body and his shoulders ached horribly. He felt as every second passed that he could no longer bear the agony of his suffering and yet that suffering continued and grew.

There were foot steps on the stairs. A sturdily built young slave woman came into the room. She said nothing but crossed to the wall where Bestia a hung suspended from a hook by the cord about his wrists his wrists. With a grunt of effort she lifted him down.

.Bestia staggered as his feet touched the floor. The room whirled round him and he sank to his knees on the floor. The woman prodded him impatiently in the bottom with her bare foot. "Don't make such a fuss," she said brusquely. "You'll have to stay on your feet working after much worse beatings than the little tickling you've just received I'm sure. Anyway if you think I've got time or energy to spare to carry idle little slave brats about you're mistaken. You get down to the yard now while I clean this room up........ I see you've peed on the floor too you filthy little animal. Get out of here now before I make you lick your own filth up."

Painfully Bestia dragged himself to his feet and made his way unsteadily down the staircase. The fat woman was sitting on a straight backed chair in the sun by her kitchen door. She beckoned Bestia to her. The naked boy, his rib cage scored with welts from his beating , stumbled across the yard towards her. Vaguely Bestia noticed the tray that lay on top of the low table that stood beside her. On it stood various jars, a steaming bowl of warm water, a bundle of rags, a small knife and an open ended metal cone together with various other objects whose purposes he did not know.

"You poor child," the woman crooned patting her plump apron covered knees, " come to Auntie Vacca. (Latin for cow - clearly with such a name the woman was an ex-slave.) Lets see what that master of yours has done to you my darling."

Vacca reached out to Bestia drawing the boy down onto her lap. It was the first time that anyone had shown any affection or concern for Bestia since he had been sold to Corax. Gratefully he settled on the woman's lap nestling tight up against her large soft breasts.

"Such nasty bruises," the woman continued softly touching the stripes that disfigured the boys chest. "Auntie Vacca has something here to take the pain away and make the bruises fade so that you will look all nice and fresh for your master when he comes home."

As she spoke the woman gently massaged a soothing cream into the boys tortured flesh. Bestia did not really listen to what the woman was saying but lulled by the tone of her voice he relaxed against her letting his head rest on her shoulder. He was carried back a long time, to when, before poverty and the labour of raising a large family had soured her, his mother had shown him affection and had take him on her knee and cuddled him. A thumb strayed into his mouth.

He was brought back to the present by Vacca gently pulling the lobe of his ear.

"Wake up lovely," she murmured. "If I know my Corax and I've known him a very long time. That's not the only place he hurt you last night.. Is it my little love?"

"No Miss...He hurt me in my bottom Miss. He put his cock right into me. It hurt a lot Miss." Somehow Bestia felt no embarrassment in telling the woman what had been done to him.

"The same old Corax and it would hurt. He's a big is our Corax. I know that well."

"Now let's see what we can do to make that sweet little bottom of yours hurt a little less. You just get off my lap for a moment and lie down over my knees so that I can see how bad it is."

Obediently Bestia stretched himself across the woman's lap. His feet resting on the ground on one side of her, his head almost level with her ankles on the other. The woman guided him down so that his bottom lay squarely across her lap elevated ready for inspection. Two guests at the inn who happened to be passing by paused to watch, a couple of boys crept out from the kitchen. A small crowd began to form around the woman with the beautiful naked boy upturned across her knees.

For a moment Vacca gently stroked the cheeks of the boy's rump enjoying their rounded firmness. Bestia wriggled appreciatively. The feel of the woman's hand on his bottom was so reassuring and calming although at the same time he felt a pleasant stirring in his crutch.

"The first thing I've got to do is to see how bad the hurt is. So push your bum up as high as you can and spread your legs for me my love."

Obediently Bestia opened his bottom to the woman.

"Now you lot stand back. I can't see what I'm doing if you crowd me too much," the woman adjured the group of spectators who had pressed close about her chair to enjoy the sight of the lad's deliciously exposed rump.

"Not too bad," she said turning her attention back to Bestia. "Now try to relax my lovely."

The boy tensed involuntarily as he felt the light touch of the woman's fingers spreading something along the lips of his anus. The sensation was pleasant and he quickly relaxed. Then the pressure of the woman's fingers increased as she began to work them into him. He tensed again and then his bottom opened of itself to let the fingers in before clamping tight about them not to resist their probing but to draw them deeper into himself. Bestia felt himself harden, He knew that he was about to come over the woman's lap. He tried to stammer out a warning but could not manage to speak as panting he rode the woman's fingers.

"That's all right sweet heart," the woman said seeing his distress. "Why you are a lively one. You'll give Corax value for money I'm sure. Just let it come my joy. Why do you think Auntie's wearing an apron?"

The woman sat watching the boys bottom writhing in excitement on her lap a soft smile on her lips as the audience of men and boys laughed and made ribald comments. Then Bestia's rump gave one final heave before subsiding into a tensed quivering stillness. At last the boy's muscles relaxed their hold on Vacca's fingers and she gently withdrew them from his bottom. Bestia moaned quietly.

"It could be much worse," the woman remarked gently patting the panting boy's bare rump. "I won't have to try any stitching. Just a little of Auntie's ointment to take the soreness away but first we've got to clean you up."

A second later Bestia felt a cool hard object being pushed into his bottom. Then his rectum was flooded with warm water. It was quite pleasant at first but as more and more water was forced into him the pressure increased.

"There," the woman said at last, "up you get and try to keep that in you until Auntie's counted to five hundred."

Bestia scrambled to his feet. He clamped his bottom as tight as he could to try to contain the pressure within him. He looked wide eyed at the seated woman who was just placing on the tray beside her a long empty canvas tube with a small brass nozzle at one end.

"....eighteen, nineteen, twenty...," the woman counted.

Cramps were beginning in Bestia's tummy. He clapped his hands tight against the cleft of his bottom. He didn't think he could possibly keep the liquid in himself much longer.

".....fifty one, fifty two, fifty three...," the audience of men and boys were counting with the woman now.

Vacca looked into the boy's face and judged he could hold it no longer.

"All right," she said, "get over to the gutter and empty yourself now."

Thankfully Bestia turned and made a rush towards the centre of the yard through which the gutter ran. One of the inn guests laughing deliberately blocked his way. The distressed boy tried to dodge past him but it was to late. Bestia began to cry as the crowd laughed at his humiliation.

"Now my darling, that's not your fault," the woman called to him. "You come back here and Auntie'll clean you up and put some ointment on that poor sore bottom of yours."

"One of you idle little slave brats go and get a couple of buckets of hot water from the kitchen and sluice the mess away," she continued.

"As for you," she said addressing the laughing man, "you can do what you like to your own slaves that's your right but this boy is not yours but Corax's. Do you want me to mention your joke to him?"

The man stopped laughing abruptly.

Bestia returned to his position face down over Vacca's lap. She wiped his bottom clean and then spread ointment around his anus. Suddenly he howled as with out any warning a long hard object was thrust into him stretching his sphincter to the limit.

"That's to stay in all day," the woman said firmly. "I know it hurts but it will make things easier for you in the future. If you want it out for any reason you ask me. Is that understood sweet."

"Yes Miss. All right Miss," Bestia mumbled. In fact after the first shock following the plugs insertion it did not feel so very painful.

"Good boy. Now sit back on my knees.

"One of you men like to hold his hands behind his back for me? Not you" she said sharply to the man who had blocked Bestia's rush to the gutter. "Yes you'll do."

The chosen man stepped forward with a grin on his face and taking a firm hold of the boy's wrists pulled them behind his back.

"Legs wide apart now," Vacca ordered.

She put one arm round Bestia's waste and began to finger his tiny penis. Following his orgasm it's pink head had disappeared within his foreskin.

She reached her free hand towards the table that stood beside her. Before Bestia's horrified gaze she touched a small wooden handled knife whose blade obviously honed to a fine edge glittered in the sun light.

"Miss.....No ... Miss ...Please... No.... Miss....MISS" Bestia screamed in terror fighting in vain against the man's grip on his wrists as the crowd of men and boys laughed and hooted.

"It's not as bad as that," Vacca said reassuringly. "It will hurt but your master wants it done so done it must be."

She put the knife between her teeth. Picking up the bronze cone she slipped it over Bestia's penis and drew his foreskin down over it. Holding the foreskin in place with her left hand she took the knife in her right and quickly drew it round the cone. Bestia howled as the blade sliced through his foreskin. She picked up a rag from the table and held it against the boy's crotch to stem the flow of blood.

"You can let his hands go now," she said.

"Now my brave boy you hold that rag in place while I get some powder to help the bleeding stop."

Afterwards she held the boy on her knee for fifteen minutes or so cuddling him and talking gently to him, stroking his hair, kissing his cheek, telling him how good he was, how brave and how pretty until his sobbing ceased and he was calm. Then she seated him on the ground just outside the kitchen door. She fastened a leg iron round his ankle securing him there and left him holding a blood soaked rag to his crotch.

After a little time a boy from the kitchen brought Bestia a bowl of warm milk sweetened with honey.

Part 7

The public baths at Colchester had recently been rebuilt on a lavish scale as befitted a town that was the centre of the Imperial cult in Britain. Constructed entirely of white marble, broad steps rose from the street to a massive portico giving access to the inner complex of hot and cold baths and ancillary halls. Even Pisclus in his misery and humiliation, standing just inside the entrance and looking across the open air pool with it's columned arcades towards the interior of the baths, was aware of the grandeur of his surroundings. The glare of the sun on the white marble, the shimmering blue of the pool, the deeply shadowed arcades and the sight of the lofty basilica beyond filled him with wonder. It was the largest and most magnificent building he had ever entered.

A sharp order from Corax reminded the boy that he was there not to marvel but to serve. The next ten minutes were painful and confusing ones for Pisclus. Corax held the very reasonable view that the quickest and surest way to teach a boy was to clout him before you spoke to him to ensure he paid attention and to clout him afterwards to make sure he remembered what had been said. It was therefore a rather bruised and tearful slave boy who followed Marcus and his father, now stripped to their loin cloths across the outer courtyard of the baths.

Corax challenged his son to a game of pilata. (Some sort of ball game or games were almost certainly played at courts attached to most Roman Baths. What form exactly these games took is far from clear although they were certainly highly competitive and professional players could make, if successful, large fortunes. They could have been something like racquets, squash or the Basque game pelota whose name derives from the Latin pila a ball.) Marcus was agile and had good co-ordination for a boy of his age. Corax however played to win and the boy was eventually overwhelmed by the power of his father's strokes. Still it was a hard fast game while it lasted and a group of men assembled to watch it. Pisclus as he scampered about the court acting as ball boy attracted a considerable amount of comment his brief tunic failing to provide any adequate covering of his nakedness. No doubt the men also enjoyed the opportunity to inspect Marcus's lithe young body but they had too much sense to risk Corax's wrath by making their admiration of his son's boyish charms audible. Audience and players joined together in laughing at Pisclus's occasional squeals of pain when in his hurry he put his weight on one or both of his scorched heels or when some failure on his part earned him a blow with the edge of Corax's racquet.

The game over father and son stripped and began to enjoy the baths proper. Pisclus followed them from room to room carrying towels, oil and scrapers with Corax's well filled purse hanging from a string round his neck. It was the first time that he had seen the man naked and he was fascinated by his powerful shoulders, deep chest, thick arms and thighs with their covering of coarse red hair. Most intriguing and frightening of all to him was the man's heavy balls and massive rod. Where ever he looked he found his eyes being drawn back to the man's crotch and his gigantic manhood. He wondered how Bestia with his slim boy's body had managed to accommodate so monstrous a cock.

After spending time in the hot room and being massaged by the attendants there Corax and Marcus took a cold plunge before calling to Pisclus for their towels. .Having dried himself off Corax threw his towel over his shoulder and strolled towards the end of the open air pool where a gaggle of naked slave boys had congregated chattering and splashing in the water. As he approached the boys fell silent and began to cast apprehensive glances at him and each other.

Apparently unaware of the impression he was making Corax walked through the crowd of boy's that parted to let him, together with Marcus and the attendant Pisclus, by. Beyond the boys stood a gigantic Nubian slave, a heavy whip in one hand, guarding double bronze doors. Seeing Corax he bowed low crossing his arms on his naked black chest and threw the doors open revealing the lofty hall that lay beyond them. Corax walked through the doors followed by Marcus and Pisclus. Corax thrust his towel at Pisclus and took his purse from about his neck. He gestured and obediently the boy hunkered down his back to the wall just inside the door. There was nothing he could do but wait. He was to learn how much of a slave boy's life was spent doing just that.

A man sat on a bench inside the door a naked boy face down across his knees. Slapping the boy on the bottom he stood up to greet Corax tipping the lad onto the floor.

"Well old friend," he said cheerfully, "always a pleasure to see you. Have a glass of wine with me and then take your pick of my boys there will be no charge."

"A glass of wine and a talk by all means," Corax replied, " but as for a boy perhaps my son could sample the wares you have on offer for me. It is time I think he learnt the pleasures a lively compliant young slave boy can give."

"This is your son?" the man remarked studying Marcus. "A sturdy well grown lad. You are right. It is time that aspect of his education was attended to. He could not do better than to start with the boy I was working on when you came in. I've just been preparing his bottom for it's first cock."

"I thought," Corax said doubtfully, "that perhaps as Marcus has no experience it would be as well that we chose a boy for him who could guide him a bit."

Marcus visibly bridled at this comment by his father. It was true that he lacked experience but he had a very good idea he felt, especially after seeing the state of Bestias bottom that morning, of what to do.

"That little tart knows all the tricks there are," the man said nodding at the boy who was crouched at his feet. "He's home bred from my farm. I had him brought here as soon as he began to grow into a pretty little animal and he's seen it all since then. Anyway I'll pair him with his older brother for your son. Between them they'll give him an introduction to boy sex he'll remember for the rest of his life."

"Where's the brother?" Corax asked.

"The boy standing just behind my bench. I always have him near me when I'm working on his little brother. It seems to reassure the smaller boy. Like as two peas in a pod as you can see which is odd because I doubt if they had the same fathers. You know what these slave woman are like, the bitches are constantly in heat and rut with whatever is nearest to hand. The boys are much the same"

"All right," Corax said.

The man clicked his fingers and the two boys, both fair haired, one naked, the other wearing a thin loin cloth, stepped forward. He nodded at Marcus.

"Now listen to me you idle lumps of pig shit," the man said. "This is the son of my oldest friend. You give him a good time or you'll both be flogged till your backs and bums are bloody and then I'll send you down to the barracks to hawk your arses to the legionaries and you know how that lot treat dirty little slave brats like you.."

Fear showed in the boys' faces. They started forward and taking Marcus by a hand each lead him further into the hall. Men lounged on marble benches or strolled slowly about the hall attended by crowds of pretty eager boys, the heavy limbs and hairy bodies of the men contrasting with the slim smooth bodies of their servitors. As he walked along Marcus admired the tight round bottoms of the two delicious lads that had been placed at his disposal. The thought that they were his to do what ever he wished with excited him and he realised that he was hardening. That this was so did not pass unnoticed by others. A man with a young boy kneeling before him his face pressed into his crutch laughed and pointed. The two lads looked back at him and smiled nervously.

They came to a cubicle at the far end of the hall. . As the door swung closed Marcus noticed that a thin vicious cane hung from a hook on it's inside. The boys pulled Marcus gently down so that he was seated between them on the low couch that was the room's only furniture. The youngest boy threw his arms about Marcus's neck and kissed him on the lips. Marcus ran his hand down the lad's body enjoying the feel of his smooth young flesh. It came to rest on the curve of the boy's buttocks. He pushed his finger into the cleft of the boy's bottom. The child moaned and Marcus took the opportunity to thrust his tongue into his mouth. He felt the elder boy nuzzling the side of his neck, then his tongue caressed his chest and played momentarily with one of his nipples. The younger boy began also to work his way down Marcus's body his lips and quick tongue kissing and teasing him into an ever greater state of arousement. Marcus lent back on the couch. It was impossible now to distinguish between the two boy's eager caresses. A tongue (which one?) probed his belly button another licked the inside of his thighs. Marcus bent his legs and lifted his bottom to make the boys' task easier. A wet warm tongue explored the cleft of his bottom and began to gently play around his balls. Lips touched the side of his penis. He knew shortly he would come. Two tongues now were teasing his pulsing rod. Blood drummed in his head. He was at the point of ejaculation. Ecstasy and then disaster. "It's not fare." It was the youngest boy furious and near tears. "It's not fare. I was to have his cock. Sir said I was and you're trying to take it off me. You always do it. Just because you're the oldest. It's not fare."

He gave his big brother a push and the two boys tumbled off the low couch onto the marble floor a writhing flailing bundle of naked boy's flesh. Marcus swore, angry at having his pleasure being disrupted by a slave boys' quarrel. He reached down and grabbed the two struggling boys by their collars and banged their heads viciously together. Blood spurted from the older boy's nose.

The two boys stopped fighting on the instant and realising that they were in serious trouble began to cry.

"It isn't fair Sir. Really Sir," the youngest faltered. "I was promised your cock Sir and he always grabs everything Sir."

"You want my cock," Marcus said furiously, "all right you'll get it and in a way you won't forget."

"Get on the couch now."

He aimed a vicious kick at the boy as he crouched on the marble floor at his feet.

"Quickly boy," he commanded. "On your belly and legs apart and get your bum in the air."

The boy obeyed moving the two pillows at the head of the couch so that they were under his hips pushing his bottom upwards.

Marcus stepped back and took a moment to admire the boy's slim body with it's tight little bottom presented ready for his enjoyment.

"I wonder, " he thought idly, "how old the brat is. No point in asking him he probably only has a slight idea himself. Eight or nine perhaps. But then he's a slave boy and they eat less well and have harder lives than free boys like me. So maybe a year or two older.

"I'll deal with you later," he said to the older boy. "You seem to think that what matters is that you should have a good time. I'll show you how wrong that is. It's not cock you'll be getting from me boy. It'll be the cane and that's only a starter because I'll see your whipped as well. You'll get all the cock you can manage though and more when your sent down to the barracks."

The older boy said nothing but stared at Marcus with big hopeless eyes dabbing ineffectually at his bleeding nose as he crouched naked on the floor.

Marcus got on the couch and knelt between the younger boys legs. The boy's hole was clearly visible and partly open.

"Aren't you going to use any ointment Sir," the boy whimpered.

Marcus made no reply but delivered a hard open handed smack on one of the lad's buttocks. The boy squealed.

Marcus took aim. As the tip of his penus touched the child's hole his bottom clenched shut. Marcus thrust downwards hard trying to hammer his prick into the boy's arse. The boy yelled and began to thrash about underneath him.. Marcus grabbed his wrists and shouted at the other lad to get a grip of younger boy's ankles. With his arms pinioned by Marcus and his legs held in place by his older brother the boy had no chance.

"That's the whip for you too," Marcus grunted as he rammed his ungreased cock into the boy. "Struggling like that."

For a moment the boy's sphincter held firm but then it began to yield to Marcus's persistent assault. The boy's moans rose to a shrill scream as his last defence gave way. Marcus thrust down again and again burying his cock in the boy's body. Now his crutch was tight up against the lad's bottom. He could feel the boy's heat tight around his penis. It was strange. It seemed now as though the boy was trying to draw him further into his body as he began to respond to Marcus increasingly rapid thrusts. The boy's screams subsided to a soft moaning. Marcus almost withdrew his prick from the boy's rump and then drove it's full length once more into him. He did it again and again and again and then finally he came deep down inside the child.

Marcus lay for a moment panting on top of the boy. The he pushed himself back to his knees. He could see a little blood and semen oozing from the between the boy's legs and his own penis was similarly soiled.

He eased himself from the couch.

"Now it's your turn," He said clouting his victim's older brother on the ear . He was pleased to see the boy made no attempt to raise his hands to defend himself as he aimed a second blow at his face. The boy had been well schooled. His fist struck the boy on his mouth splitting his lip. A trickle of fresh blood dribbled down the lad's chin. Marcus lifted the cane from it's hook and hefted it in his hand. It was not over heavy but it had a stiff spring to it that made it jump and hiss in the air like a living thing.

"Well turn round," he said to the boy slashing him across the front of the thighs to reinforce his order, "and take hold of the edge of the couch."

The boy yelped and turning bent down to offer his rump to the rod.

"Head right down boy and get your bum in the air."

Marcus reinforced his command by putting his left hand on the back of the boy's head and pushing it downwards at the same time inserting the cane between the boy's legs and flicking it's tip sharply upwards into the boy's crutch. The boy squealed and pushed his bottom up into the air as high as it would go. His head was pressed against the couch only a few inches away from where his brothers sobbing body lay.

Marcus touched the boys bottom with the tip of the cane measuring his distance and smiling to himself as he saw the boy tense in anticipation of the pain to come.

Now stay still," he ordered the cowering boy. "You know you deserve this don't you". He spoke quietly almost kindly to the trembling lad.

"Yes Sir," the boy whimpered.

Marcus lifted the cane back over his shoulder and then brought it hissing down through the air slicing across the boy's bare defenceless rump. The boy's body jerked convulsively. Marcus heard the lad gasp as the pain ripped the breath from his body. Marcus waited patiently as the boy struggled to calm himself. He had all the time in the world at his disposal. He watched as the single the weal across the boy's smooth rump deepened from white to scarlet and purple bruises appeared along it's edges. He realised that his cock, which had begun to subside when the two boys had started to fight, was now once again standing stiffly to attention.

He waited until he was sure the boy was calm again.

"Are you ready?" he asked gently. "I am enjoying this," he thought. He had not told the boy how many cuts he was to receive. Why should he set a limit to his own pleasure or to the boy's suffering?

The boy muttered something and Marcus interpreting the sound as assent brought the cane slashing down once more across the lad's tender bottom.

Slowly and steadily Marcus plied the cane making sure the boy felt each individual cut to the full. By the third stroke the boy was screaming. He collapsed to his knees on the sixth and again on the ninth cut. On each occasion Marcus said nothing. He just waited patiently until the boy dragged himself back on to his feet and resumed position lifting, his now well striped bottom, once again for the cane.

The boy went down again on the twelfth. He crouched on the floor at Marcus's feet his head resting on edge of the couch as sobs wracked his naked body. Looking down at his thin shoulders and bruised bottom whose flesh once white and smooth was now ribbed with welts and whose colour varied from that of raw meat on a butcher's slab to deep purple, Marcus felt he had rarely seen so arousing a sight. Inflamed by the boy's suffering he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up so that his chest and upper body were resting on the couch, his feet touching the floor.

He increased the tempo of his blows. There was no reason now to interrupt the flogging as the boy lay across the couch, writhing under the cuts of the cane, his shrill screams mingled with the hiss of the rod through the air, the crack of wood against bare flesh, and the constant drumming of the boy's bare feet on the marble floor as the pain convulsed his tortured body.

Marcus felt his excitement increase as he laid stripe after stripe across the boy's rump and thighs.

He managed a further thirteen strokes before he felt he could delay the crisis no longer. He ceased the boy by the hair and pulled him from the couch. The lad huddled at his feet moaning quietly. He forced the boy's head back so that he was looking down into his face glistening with blood tears and mucus.

He pulled the boy's face into his crutch so that his distended cock still stained from his penetration of the lad's younger brother touched his lips. The boy opened his mouth, his lips closed about Marcus's prick, his tongue touched and massaged it. Marcus cried out as he came, shooting spunk into the back of boy's throat.

He thrust the boy away from him. As he left the room he glanced back over his shoulder. The two brothers stared back at him with blank pain filled eyes. He pushed the door closed cutting off the sound of their sobbing. He realised he was still carrying the cane. Then he thought with a start of surprise "I don't even know their names - but why should I - what does that matter?"

Corax was enjoying a drink of wine with his friend. He looked up as Marcus approached.

"It would appear you have enjoyed yourself," he said looking pointedly at Marcus's crotch.

Marcus glanced down and realised that the boy's sucking had been so brief that his prick still bore evidence of his probing of the youngest boy's bum. He blushed.

"Don't worry," Marcus said with a smile. "sit here for a moment and Pisclus can give it a wash while I finish my wine."

Pisclus hearing his name hurried forward and dropped to his knees before his young master. A boy appeared from the side of the room carrying a silver bowl full of steaming water together with a flannel and towel. Marcus spread his knees.

"Nice looking boy," Corax's fiend remarked eyeing Pisclus tight round bottom exposed as he lent forward to wash his Marcus's cock. "I'd give you a good price for him if you ever thought of selling."

"No? Oh well I thought not. How did those too boys of mine perform. I see your carrying a cane. I hope you used it because you like hurting other boys not because they gave you cause."

"They started to fight each other," Marcus explained.

"Did they?" The man's voice went cold and he turned and said a few words quietly to a couple of sturdy youths who stood close behind him. They headed bask towards the far end of the hall.

"Well they'll both pay for that," the man remarked. He did not sound too displeased at the prospect.

"I have punished them already," Marcus said a little hesitantly.

"And now I shall punish them. I told them what would happen if they misbehaved and now it is going to take place. I am a man of my word and these brats must not be allowed to forget that. Take some advice from an older man my boy ,the only thing that a slave boy respects is the whip applied often and hard to his bare carcass. Kindness is wasted on them and they get none from me."

Besides," he continued with a smile, "a lot of my customers only come here because they like to see young boys whipped till the blood flows and I am not going to disappoint them."

The youths reappeared dragging the two lads that Marcus had abused by the arms. They hurled them to the floor at the man's feet. They crouched there naked and sobbing.

"Well," he said contemptuously, "making that noise will do you no good you idle ungrateful little tykes. I feed you and house you filthy little beasts and you can't even give the son of my best friend a good time. All you had to do was stick your arses in the air to be fucked and you're too stupid to be able to manage that. I should have thought the way that bitch of a mother of yours rutted with everything in sight including the sheep dog you'd have known how to take a fucking by instinct. Well I'm going to teach you what happens to disobedient little slave brats here."

"String them up," he ordered. "The oldest first."

The two youths grabbed the bigger of the two brothers and hauled him over to a pillar nearby. They tied his hands together with a length of cord, passed the loose end of the cord through a ring set high up on the pillar and pulled the rope tight so that the boy's toes were only just touching the floor.

"You did that?" The man asked looking at the boys's taught naked body and pointing to where the cane had savaged his bottom.

"Yes," Marcus replied a little nervously. He wondered if he had overdone things. Certainly the boy's rump was a mass of livid bruises.

"A chip off the old block," the man said slapping his shoulder. "You keep that cane my boy. You certainly know how to use it."

"Alwah," the man shouted.

The Nubian stepped forward the heavy whip curled in his right hand like a snake ready to strike. The man held up his right hand twice with the fingers spread. White teeth flashed in the Nubians face as he nodded and grinned his acknowledgement. Marcus looked at the black man's broad chest and massive muscles oiled and glistening in the light. He contrasted them with the slim body of the boy half hanging from his wrists, trussed and ready for punishment. Men and boys had begun to crowd round to watch, the men's eyes glinting in anticipation of the excitement to come, many of them Marcus noted showing obvious signs of sexual arousement, the boy's fearful but unable to take their eyes from the unfolding drama.

Marcus felt his own cock stir reacting both to Pisclus's gentle sponging and the sight of the boy's approaching agony. Pisclus bent his head and Marcus felt his lips touch his swelling prick. Marcus looked down at the back of the boy's head where it nestled between his legs. He gently ruffled the lad's dark hair. He knew he would hurt Pisclus, it was his way, but at the same time he felt a softness and sympathy for the child which was quite unlike the cruel impulses to humble and dominate that had ruled him just a short time ago.

The Nubian swung the whip back. The boy began to scream even before the lash cracked viciously down across his bare shoulders. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet and for a moment he swung suspended from his wrists. For a split second after the crack of leather against bare boy's flesh there was silence and then the lad's screams rang out even louder and shriller. A broad crimson stripe appeared across the flesh his thin shoulders.

Marcus's prick sprang to attention and Pisclus took it into his mouth.

The Nubian waited a moment till the boy had recovered his footing and again brought the whip hurtling down across the pinioned boy's naked body. The two stripes crossed and where they crossed the lash split the boy's skin. A tiny stream of scarlet blood began to trickle down the boys bare back.

Marcus excited beyond words exploded in Pisclus's mouth. He caught hold of the boy by his ears and pulled him up so that he could kiss him thrusting his tongue between the lad's semen stained lips, tasting his own spunk.

"Well," said Corax with a laugh. "I've finished my wine and my son appears to have finished enjoying his slave for the time being at least. We will leave you now to your pleasures."

Marcus noticed the younger of the two brothers kneeling to one side of the pillar, waiting his turn to be flogged. The boy's eye stared unseeingly in front of him blank with terror. His body was wracked with sobs. For a second he felt a touch of pity for the child, an impulse to plead that the punishment should stop and the boys be spared. Then he pushed the thought away. They were only slaves and slaves had to be taught to obey.

As they left the hall Marcus heard the unmistakable sound again of plaited leather striking bare flesh and the scream of a boy under severe correction.

Part 8

Bestia sat on the flagstones his legs bent and slightly parted holding the blood stained rag against the soreness of his crutch. People passed through the yard but no one took any notice of the naked young slave boy. The sun blazed down. Although the side of the yard where Bestia was shackled was in deep shadow it was hot and airless. Soon his head fell forward and he dozed.

He woke to found Corax standing over him prodding him with his foot. Fear flared in the boy's eyes. He tried to move away from his tormentor only to be brought up short by the chain around his ankle. Corax laughed.

"Vacca, Vacca, come here woman and bring the key for our sleeping beauty. I want to see what sort of job you have made of him."

"Stop your shouting Corax," Vacca replied appearing from the depths of the kitchen. "The poor child's bottom and prick will not heal any sooner for it; nor the bruises on his chest fade either. If you could learn patience and gentleness it would be something indeed but then you would not be Corax but some other creature altogether. A much nicer creature too."

Grumbling she knelt down at Bestia's feet and unlocked the shackle about his ankle. Taking the boy one arm she helped him to his feet.

"There he is Corax," she continued patting Bestia encouragingly on the rump with the palm of her hand. "I've done the best I could with him. It's you who did the damage I had to repair and insisted that his prick be cut and don't you forget it. Brave as a soldier he was while I was doing it too. Hardly a cry or tear."

"I've known you a long time Vacca but I've never known you to be quiet," Corax grated.

He leant forward and taking hold of Bestia's wrists pulling his hands away from his crutch. Surprisingly gently he took the boy's small prick between his finger and thumb and rolled it about.

"It's healed well," he said.

He ran his thumb down the flaccid member. Bestia whimpered and pulled away as he touched the raw flesh where the foreskin had been severed.

"Still sore is it boy?" Corax asked speaking to Bestia directly for the first time since he had returned to the inn. "Well that will pass and with you cut you'll be a much cleaner and sweeter smelling little whore when I need you."

Corax released Bestia's prick and walked round behind the boy. He put the flat of his hand on the back of the boy's head and pushed forcing him to bend forward. Vacca stepped forward and took hold of Bestia by the shoulders.

"Legs apart boy and push your bum out," Corax ordered.

Corax slipped his hand between the boys legs and fondled his balls. He ran his thumb nail along the short length of flesh that divided Bestia's balls from his anus until it reached the edge of the plug that Vacca had inserted in the boy. His fingers caressed the sensitive area at the top of the boy's legs his nails gently scratched the tender skin. Bestai aroused by these attentions lifted his bottom higher. The boys breath came in short gasps as he panted in his rising excitement.

Corax nodded to Vacca over the boy's bent back. The woman tightened her grip on the boy's shoulders. Corax steadied Bestia with his left hand flat against the small of his back. With a single sharp wrench of his right hand he jerked the plug from the boy's bottom.

Bestia howled as the pain ripped through him. He bucked and fought against Vacca's restraining hands but the woman's grip held firm. Then he was still again, bent over, his bare bottom raised, whimpering quietly.

A dark skinned, curly haired, boy wearing only a tiny strip of cloth between his legs sidled out from the kitchen grinning broadly attracted by the noise.

Corax lifted the plug and inspected it while his free hand gently stroked the lads quivering bum. "Very good," he said quietly. "No fresh blood...excellent."

"You'll give that boy a rest tonight Corax if you've any sense," Vacca said taking the plug from the man. "You've hurt him enough for now and he'll be all the livelier for a rest. And don't you go trying to ride that little lad of your son's either. He's hardly more than a baby that one and you'd split his bum open like a ripe melon."

Corax laughed. Vacca seemed to be able to take liberties with him that no other person dared.

"Pisclus there is my son's boy and it's Marcus who will be enjoying his bottom tonight. As for this boy," he said landing a light smack on Bestia's upturned rump, "well, we'll have to see."

"No, give the lad a rest. I tell you what Corax. I know you of old for a randy old goat. You have Ceres here tonight but you promise me that you grease his bum up well before you fuck him."

"Miss," the African boy cried in alarm, the grin disappearing from his face in an instant.

"Yes you little tyke," Vacca said reaching back and grabbing him by an ear which she twisted viciously extracting further squeals of protest as she hauled him forward to show Corax. "It'll teach you to stick to your work and not to go creeping off sticking your nose into things that don't concern you."

"Look at him Corax. The curse of my life. The laziest greediest brat in my kitchen - but a sturdy young animal. You ride him as hard as you like and he'll take it I'm sure."

"And stop snivelling you miserable little tart," she said turning her attention back to the boy. "It's not the first time you've had a man's cock up your arse I know and the other boys will sleep sounder and be fresher for work without you in the loft with them."

Corax looked the boy up and down slowly and then nodded.

"I'll give the whore a try," he said coldly

"And remember grease his bottom and your son's boy as well," Vacca added. "I know your son's weapon won't compare with yours but he still looks like a chip off the old block to me."

"Now Ceres," she said releasing the black boy's ear. "Go and fetch a pot of goose grease. "You know where it's kept it well enough. Quick about it."

The boy ran off rubbing his sore ear.

As Pisclus followed Marcus up the stairs to their rooms he thought about what the evening would bring. He had seen the state of Bestia's bottom after Corax had fucked him, the cleft of his bum and the inside of his thighs stained with dried semen and blood. He had noticed how painfully the boy had walked the next morning, his legs splayed to minimise the pain. Now it was his turn. Corax's cock was much bigger than Marcus's. He had seen that in the baths. But then he was a good two years younger and a good deal smaller than Bestia. No doubt being fucked by Marcus would not hurt as much as having it done by his father but it would still hurt. There was nothing he could do about it though. If Marcus wanted to fuck him he would and that was that. If he tried to resist it would make no difference. He would just be thrashed and then fucked and with a bottom sore from the cane it would hurt all the more.

Not that he wanted to resist Marcus. Marcus had saved his life and was all the things that he admired. Strong, resolute, confident and brave; Pisclus worshipped the older boy as a savage worships a tribal God, powerful, capricious, sometimes cruel, but his only protector in a hostile world. Pisclus was happy to be the older boy's slave. He loved Marcus even though he had hurt him in the past and he knew in his heart would do so again in the future.

Marcus's emotions as he watched Pisclus moving about the room preparing it with the two other slave boys for their Masters' supper were almost the mirror image of the younger boy's. The lad's slim body ,thin arms and the occasional glimpses that he caught of the smooth curves of his tender little rump as he bent to move a chair or set a plate both aroused him and filled him with pity. The thought of having the boy naked and in his power excited him almost to fever pitch. Should he, he wondered, strip the boy himself, ripping the thin tunic which was his only covering brutally from his shoulders? Or would it be better to lean back in his chair and order the boy to strip? To watch the frightened child lift the tunic over his head and then to see him standing there naked, trembling with fear, utterly vulnerable. Certainly he should not hurry things. The boy must be given time to appreciate his own helplessness and he must have time himself to enjoy the lads terror.

He noticed how the bruises left by the last beating he had given the boy had faded. He glanced at the cane that lay beside him on the table. He smiled to himself. He felt sure he would find occasion to score fresh marks across the smooth curve of the boy's bottom before the end of the night.

Dusk was beginning to fall before the meal was over. Corax ordered the serving girl to light the lamps and then dismissed her. Bestia, nominated for this duty because his bottom was to be spared for that night, appeared with the chamber pot. He knelt before Corax and Marcus . First the father then the son directed a stream of tawny liquid into the pot, held just inches away from the kneeling boys bowed head, then after shaking the few remaining drops from their pricks wiped the moisture from their fingers on the boy's fair hair.

Feeling rather full after his meal and slightly muzzy from the small amount of wine mixed with water that Corax had allowed him to accompany his dinner Marcus lounged back in his chair. Like his father he was relaxed and content and was looking forward to the rest of the evening with pleasant anticipation.

The condition of three slave boys was very different. They had had nothing to eat other than such scraps as their masters had allowed them from their plates while they were serving. They knew too that it was their bodies that were to provide the entertainment that their masters were so happily anticipating. Hungry and frightened they huddled together at the far end of the room from the table awaiting their fate. There was nothing to stop any one of them running from the room except the certainty that if one did so he would be caught savagely flogged and brought back to experience even greater horrors. They were slaves and knew that they were the property of their masters who had absolute power over them. There was no protection for them from the law and no one for them to turn to for help.

Corax took a deep draft of his wine and crooked his finger at Ceres. The boy stepped reluctantly forward the lamp light glistening on his dark skin.

"Well lets see what we've got here then," Corax said and leaning forward pulled the narrow strip of cloth tat was the boy's only covering.

Ceres, being a well trained boy made no effort to cover, himself with his hands. He just stood there his hands open by the sides of his thighs, his head slightly bent, as Corax and Marcus studied his nakedness. He was a good looking boy with, slim strong legs, a flat stomach and a well defined ribcage. There was no spare flesh on him but he looked fit and well made. Marcus saw that around the base of his cock and his hairless scrotum was fastened a band of dully gleaming metal. He lent forward to examine it closer.

"What's that Father?" he asked pointing.

"That?" Corax said . "Oh a cock ring. Why have you got that on you boy?" he asked Ceres.

"Sir I...I started to go stiff and things at all sort of times and Miss said I was distracting the customers from their food when I was serving at table and she didn't want me coming over the food in the kitchen so she put it on me to try to slow me down Sir."

"And did it work?" Corax asked amused.

"Some times Sir,"

Corax laughed.

Marcus lent forward to take a closer look at the ring. He reached out and touched it. Taking hold of it he gave it a sharp jerk. Ceres gasped and grabbed at his crutch.

"Get your hands back down at your sides boy," Corax barked. "Who told you to move." He landed a stinging slap with the flat of his hand on the side of the boys bare thigh.

"How did they get it on him Father?" Marcus asked. "It's really tight I don't see how they did it."

"They'd have put his cock in it first," Corax explained and then they would have forced one ball after the other through it."

"It must have hurt," Marcus said appreciatively, "but it looks good."

"Yes, well we've got other things to do apart from discussing cock rings all night."

Corax hitched his tunic clear of his thighs and pointed down at them. Obediently Ceres stretched himself out over his knees and spread his legs so that his bare rump was open and ready to the man's hand.

Marcus," Corax said, "I am going to grease this brats bottom and you can watch so that you will know how to do it with your boy."

Corax rested his hand on the curve of Ceres bottom and began gently to stroke it.

"The first thing to do is to get the boy as relaxed as you can. You want to get the grease all round his hole and also right into him."

"You know," he continued as he slowly caressed the lad's bum, "in a way this little tyke is the basis on which our great Empire has been built. If it was not for Ceres and Pisclus and Bestia and millions of other slave boys like them over the centuries there would be no empire. It's their labour that has tilled the fields, worked the mines, powered the galleys and done all the other tasks that have allowed our legions to conquer the known world and which allows the Senators at Rome, and you and I if we wished, to live at leisure. And it is the continuing need for their labour that means our legions must continue to conquer so that the slave markets of the empire can be supplied with new merchandise. Through the great slave markets a million... a million and a half perhaps.... slaves flow each year. That supply must be maintained or the Empire will cease to function."

"And Marcus not only must we ensure that there is a constant supply of new slaves we must also make sure that the slaves we already have are kept down and disciplined. It is the duty of every Roman citizen to see that the slightest sign on rebellion or insubordination is ruthlessly suppressed. Slavery is based on fear and the slaves must be made to fear us. Remember that."

"Yes Father," Marcus said, who had pulled Pisclus onto his knees and had been amusing himself playing with the younger boys little prick and balls. Like all young people when their parents start pontificating he had very shortly ceased to pay attention.

"Do you think Father," he continued after a pause to make sure his father had stopped talking, "I could put a cock ring on Pisclus? I think it would look really nice."

He felt Pisclus shift uneasily on his lap and he bent and kissed the boy at the base of his neck at the same time squeezing one of the child's tiny balls between his finger and thumb. Pisclus gave a little moan and sat quite still.

"A cock ring," Corax snapped irritated and then laughed.

"Ah well on the evidence of your behaviour today you don't need any lessons in treating slaves harshly. Yes I can't see why not. A good idea. I expect Vacca will have one she can let us have. It'll have to be a small one though he's so small. We'll do it tomorrow we don't want to disturb her now."

"Will he scream do you think? Marcus asked eagerly. He loved Pisclus in his way but it was a cruel way.

"Sure to. Now dump that boy on the floor for the time being and come over here and watch."

"Get a good lump of grease on the tip of your fingers work it along the cleft of his bum all round his hole. Look his hole's open at the moment but as soon as you touch it it closes. The boy can't help that the anus is a very delicate part of his body. Get some more grease on your finger and this time push firmly but gently....See it's opened to let you in. Now work it well in."

"You'll find it more difficult with Pisclus because this will be his first time while Ceres here has had a few men up his bum. My finger will slip in easily. Look first knuckle....second knuckle.. right in ...... and a second finger.... and a third I expect ...Yes."

"All right," Corax continued withdrawing his fingers, "now you try."

"Push firmly..there you are he's letting you in... there's a ring of muscle get past that.....feel how hot he is and how he's closing tight about your finger... He likes it doesn't he?...You can feel that can't you?.....Drawing you in....sort of riding your finger....Oh well despite his cock ring too....still at his age he'll be desperate for a bit of cock again within a minute or two. Down you get boy you're ready now"

"Your fingers dirty? Well it would be wouldn't it considering where it's been. Give it to the boy to lick clean. It's his filth."

"Now kneel down boy and grease my cock for me. That's right the more thoroughly you do it the easier things will be for you."

"Done?"

"Now Marcus it's your turn let's see you prepare your boy."

This proved to be a far from easy task. Pisclus despite being desperate to please Marcus was so frightened by the time that he had been made to strip and stretch himself over his master's knees that he was frozen in panic. No amount of stroking or teasing or probing would relax him. For all Marcus's coaxing and threatening he remained lying face down across his knees, his body rigid, his bottom clenched tight shut.

It was Corax that solved the problem by suggesting that they laid Pisclus on his back on the floor. He then had Marcus take the boy by his ankles and push his legs back over his head until his knees were touching the floor on either side of his head forcing his bottom open. Marcus noticed that the boy's eyes had rolled back in his head leaving only the whites visible. Ceres was ordered to hold Pisclus's ankles in pace while Marcus applied the grease.

Resistance intentional or otherwise was now all but impossible. The only obstacle was the tightness of Pisclus's previously unplumbed body. Marcus's finger parted the lips of the boy's anus and probed his bum the sphincter held for a moment but for a moment only. Marcus withdrew his finger and took aim. The well greased tip entered the boy's body easily enough but then there was a moment when it seemed that full entry was still going to be denied. Marcus would have none of it. He thrust forward with all his strength and weight hammering his cock into the boy. The pain jerked Pisclus out of his trance. He screamed shrilly. Marcus grasped the boy by his waist and as he thrust forward hauled the boy back against his probing tool. Slowly his member penetrated deeper into the lad. Pisclus' screams mingled with Marcus pants and grunts of effort as he exerted all his strength. At last there was the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as, his prick finally sheathed to the hilt in the boy, his heaving pelvis came into contact with Pisclus ravaged bum. The boy's screaming fell away to a soft moaning. From where he knelt labouring between the child's legs Marcus could see his face was wet with tears. Then despite all the pain Pisclus's body began to respond to Marcus's thrusting. Marcus felt his blood surge and he came deep in the other boy's guts. He lent forward and kissed Pisclus on the lips tasting the younger boys tears.

Corax patted Marcus on his upraised bottom.

"Well done," he said, "now I am going to do the same to Ceres."

Turning he urged the naked black boy from the room with a series of heavy slaps on his bare bum.

Pisclus opened his mouth to accept Marcus's kiss and wound his arms tight round his masters shoulders.

"He believes," Marcus thought, "that I've finished with him for the night." He decided that he would disabuse the boy of this delusion.

He ran his hand up Pisclus's ribcage until he found a hard little nipple. He took it between his finger and thumb. Very deliberately he squeezed and twisted. Pisclus, his mouth filled by the older boy's tongue, sounded a small note of protest deep in his throat that Marcus felt rather than heard.

Part 9

Marcus pulled his head, breaking Pisclus embrace and hunkered back on his knees. He reached forward and ruffled Pisclus cropped hair. The child, misinterpreting the gesture, smiled up at him, encouraged by what he thought was the other boy's gentleness.

"I did all right Sir didn't I?" he asked seeking approval.

"In the end," Marcus replied smiling down at the boy's tear stained face. "Why," he wondered silently to himself, "does he look so much more attractive when he has been crying?"

"I'm glad I pleased you Sir."

"You didn't please me to begin with boy and you must learn to please me always and at once. Slaves don't get second chances," Marcus said jumping to his feet.

"Fetch me the cane. Quick now." He reinforced his order with a sharp kick with his bare foot into the boy's exposed crutch.

Pisclus squealed and twisting onto his knees scrambled to his feet. He stood in front of Marcus, his head bowed, holding the cane out to him trying to still the trembling in his legs and hands.

"Kneel," Marcus snapped. "when I tell you to fetch me something you bring it to me and offer it to me on your knees."

Pisclus dropped to his knees. Marcus took the cane and without warning lashed the boy hard across his chest. Pisclus howled and clasped his hands to the hurt.

"Hands by your side boy," Marcus grated.

"That," he continued, "was to make sure you remember to kneel when you hand me something. This is to remind you to keep your hands down when I am beating you."

He lifted the cane again. He saw the boy's hands grip his thighs as he forced himself to wait for the blow. He paused giving the boy plenty of opportunity to appreciate what was coming to him. He saw the crimson weal left by the first stroke scored across the smooth skin of the boy's chest. He slashed the cane viciously down once more. This time the stroke cut across one of Pisclus's nipples. The child howled in agony and doubled over. For a moment Marcus thought Pisclus was going to roll onto his side as he fought the pain. But the boy managed to stay on his knees and in a second was back in position, head bowed, shoulders heaving as he sobbed.

"Don't make so much noise," Marcus snapped, "you'll wake the whole inn."

He reached down and took a grip of the lad's collar. He dragged him across to the table and bent him over it. In one corner of the room Bestia crouched staring, wide eyed, at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Let him watch," Marcus thought, "he'll learn to fear me as he does my father."

He put his hand between Pisclus's legs pushing his bum upwards ready for the cane. He saw cum dribbling down the inside of the boy's thighs. He saw no sign of blood and felt a little ashamed that he had proved to be too small to tear the child. Still if he could not hurt the boy one way he would show that he could do so another.

"You have been disobedient Pisclus and you must be punished. You know that don't you boy?"

"Yes Sir," Pisclus replied faintly and then with out much hope, "Sir please Sir, I didn't mean to disobey you Sir...I am sorry Sir"

"But you did disobey me and you must bear the consequences. Still I know you are very young and small and perhaps you were frightened so I will not be too hard on you. Six strokes I think will be enough." Marcus was clearly enjoying the sight of his victims terror.

"Six strokes Sir?" Pisclus did not sound to be too impressed by Marcus's claimed moderation.

"Yes that's all boy. Aren't you going to thank me boy. I think you should do so before I change my mind. Perhaps I should increase it a bit? Double it perhaps."

"Oh no Sir.... Thank you Sir for being so kind Sir," Pisclus whimpered.

Marcus stepped back. Pisclus clenched his buttocks in expectation of the cane. Marcus lifted the rod over his shoulder and then brought it hissing down with all his strength. There was the sharp crack of wood impacting on bare flesh, a moments silence as Pisclus fought for breath followed by the shrill scream of a boy under severe correction. Marcus saw the boy's body jerk forward as the cane slashed across his bare rump leaving a livid weal that ran horizontally across the curve of his buttocks.

Marcus waited until Pisclus was still again.

"Bum right up boy," he commanded sharply.

Satisfied that Pisclus was back in position he raised the cane again. This time he aimed lower landing the cut across the very base of the boy's bottom where his thighs joined his bum and there was a little crease of flesh when he was standing upright. It is reputed to be a peculiarly tender spot and Pisclus's howl of anguish appeared to confirm that this was so.

Marcus stepped forward. Putting his hand on the back of Pisclus's head and he suddenly thumped it down hard upon the table. Blood gushed from the boys nose.

"I told you not to make so much noise," he rasped. "There are people trying to sleep here and they don't want to be disturbed by a slave brat screaming. Do you understand?" and he slammed the boy's face against the table once again.

"I'm sorry Sir...It hurt's Sir," Pisclus sobbed.

"It hurts Sir" Marcus said mockingly. "Of course it hurts you stupid little runt. It's meant to hurt. It'll hurt a great deal more before I've finished with you I can promise you and much much more if you don't stop this howling. Shove your fist in your mouth you useless lump of pig's shit if you can't control yourself any other way."

The next two strokes he delivered in rapid succession slicing horizontally across his victim' bottom. The first sent Pisclus scrabbling for balance the second knocked him off his feet landing him face down across the table his legs thrashing in agony in the air.

Marcus grabbed Pisclus by his collar pinning him down on the table. He slashed the cane down twice more aiming the cuts so that they crossed those already inflicted. Pisclus's body bucked and writhed under the impact of the cane, his cries muffled by the back of his hand which he had thrust into his mouth.

Marcus stood a moment looking down at the deep red weals that ribbed the smooth curve of the boy's taught bum. He ran his index finger gently along one of the welts and Pisclus, moaning softy stirred under his touch.

Suddenly he slapped the boy sharply on his ravaged bum and turning away seated himself on the couch. Pisclus taken by surprise started upright and turned to face his master.

Marcus smiled at him and beckoned pointing to the ground between his feet. Obediently Pisclus came and knelt before him. Marcus reached out and took his hand. He turned it over and examined it's back. Blood welled from the places where the boy's teeth had broken the skin as he had striven to gag his own screaming as the rod bit into his flesh.

Marcus released the boy's hand and catching hold of his head by the ears pulled it into his crutch. Pisclus saw Marcus's prick, soiled from it's probing of his body, close to his face. He smelt the stale odour of Marcus's body and of his own shit. Marcus's member was already beginning to stir. Pisclus touched it with his lips and then ran his tongue it's length from it's base in front of Marcus's hairless ball sack to it's pink topped tip. For a moment his tongue explored the little nick at the top of the older boy's member. It responded to his teasing and stood erect. He took it into his mouth tasting cum mixed with faeces.

He felt no resentment as he knelt there at his master's feet sucking the cock which a short time ago had so cruelly penetrated his bottom. Indeed it felt somehow right and inevitable that he should be in this position performing this task for Marcus. The older boy, sensing compulsion was no longer required, released Pisclus's ears. His mouth full of Marcus's prick he looked up into his face but in Pisclus's eyes was not hatred but acceptance and a dog like devotion. Marcus licked his index finger and then leaning forward ran his hand down Pisclus's back. Responding to Marcus's touch the boy raised his bottom and the prying finger entered it. Then his mouth was full of warm faintly metallic tasting fluid. Marcus pulled the boy up and kissed him his tongue exploring the boy's cum filled mouth. With one hand he gently stroked the boy's tiny but erect prick. Pisclus's body jerked, he made a small noise in the back of his throat as he came. Marcus wiped his hand on the boy's bare thigh. He lay back on the couch pulling the boy down beside him cradling the lad, which just a short time before he had so cruelly used, in his arms. Bestia spread a blanket over the two of them and then crept back to his corner where he curled up and slept. From the next room came the sound of Ceres whimpering as Corax enjoyed his slim boy's body.

Pisclus was woken in the morning by Ceres shaking him. A white toothed grin split the boys dark face, he did not look too distressed by his previous nights labours. Ceres jerked his thumb at the door and Pisclus began to slide from the bed. His movement woke Marcus who caught hold of him by his arm and pulled him back down. Pisclus could see that his prick was stiff once again and, as a good slave boy should, dutifully turned to service it. The two other boys slipped from the room. Pisclus could see that Ceres was walking a little splay footed but although there was dried cum on his bottom there was no sign of blood.

Marcus had woken fully refreshed and it was only a matter of a couple of minutes before Pisclus's soft lips and nimble tongue had induced an orgasm. Marcus patted him on the head and Pisclus jumping to his feet ran from the room and tumbled down the stairs into the inn yard.

A summer storm had broken. A dozen or so naked slave boys capered and shouted in the warm rain forgetful, in the excitement of the moment, of the misery of their bondage. The guttering at one side of the yard had broken and here, where the water streamed off the roof and splashed down onto the cobbles, the boys were crowded.

Pisclus ran over to them and soon was a part of the excited laughing crowd. He bumped up against Ceres rain running in a silver stream down his dark shoulders and chest. Next to him was Bestia fair hair darkened and plastered down with moisture. All seemed to be happiness and good humour and then the mood changed.

Ceres caught Pisclus by the arm.

"Come on chicken," he said twisting the boy to face him, "give me suck."

"Let go," Pisces shouted. "Let go or I'll tell my Master."

"That little runt," the black boy sneered, "he doesn't frighten me. Look I took his father in me last night and I'm none the worse for it. Not like your pal Bestia there who was crippled by the man's cock."

"Bestia took it all right although it hurt him," Pisclus shouted furiously back, leaping to the defence of his companion in servitude.

"So what. The fact is I coped with the father so the son doesn't worry me. Why the boy hasn't got a cock to talk of, just a tiny bit of straw stuck between his legs."

Pisclus furious at this insult to his master leapt at Ceres. The suddenness of his attack sent the boy flying. Two of Ceres friends from the kitchens jumped forward to help him and Bestia joined the fray in support of Pisclus. Soon the floor of the yard was a jumble of slim naked limbs and bare bodies as the boys wrestled and fought with each other.

Marcus stood at the window of his room looking down at the yard. He heard a foot step behind him and his father rested a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Should I go down and make them get on with their work?" Marcus asked referring to the boys who had at that stage not begun to fight.

"No let them be for now," Corax said easily. "They get little enough fun and they're doing no harm."

"It's funny father how they can enjoy themselves like that when their lives are so miserable."

"They're slaves my boy," Corax said quietly. "They don't think like us. They don't plan ahead. They can't because their masters decide their futures in so far as they have a future at all. They have to live for the moment."

Marcus looked up at his father. He thought he detected a hint of regret in his voice that he could not understand. It was at this moment the fighting began.

"Take the cane down Marcus and break it up," Corax said laughing. "Remind our two that they are meant to be getting our breakfasts and tell them that they will get six strokes each after we've eaten to ensure they remember to do as they are told in future.....Oh and tell Pisclus to ask Vacca for a cock ring."

Marcus grabbed the cane from the table and ran down the stairs. He was still naked from bed but no one looking at the fighting slave boys would have confused him with them. Quite apart from the bruises that many of their bottoms and shoulders bore, their generally cropped heads and the collars that most of them had fastened about their necks there was an arrogance about the way Marcus moved and held himself that marked his superiority.

He lashed out with the cane. Wood cracked down on naked flesh, boys squealed in alarm and pain. The fighting stopped in an instant.

A second or two later Pisclus and Bestia were in the kitchens collecting their masters breakfasts.

"Miss," Pisclus said to Vacca, "My master says to ask if you have a cock ring that would fit me."

"So they're going to put one of those on you are they my poor little child," Vacca exclaimed. "Corax doesn't change, as hard and as cruel as he has ever been, and that son of his is growing up to be the same. "

"Well," she continued looking at Pisclus's crutch. "It'll have to be a small one. You've got little enough there my darling. You just wait a second while Auntie Vacca gores to see what she can find."

She hurried out of the kitchen to return a second or two later carrying a small ring of dull metal in the palm of her hand.

"Here you are my lovely. Now put it on your thumb for the time being. There it fits snugly enough and will not fall off easily. You tell that Corax to put it on you this morning now when all my guests are awake. I don't want your screams disturbing their sleep."

"Yes Miss," Pisclus said looking miserably at the broad band of metal that encircled his thumb. It seemed very small and he shuddered at the thought his balls and cock being squeezed through it.

Ceres brought a tray of food for him to carry back to the rooms.

"Thanks for not telling what I said about your master," the black boy whispered. "If Vacca knew she'd have my bum flayed."

The two boys were very subdued as they served their masters. Bestia seemed to be unable to take their eyes from the cane where it lay on the table beside Marcus. Pisclus eyes did sometimes stray from the cane but only to alight on the little metal ring that lay beside it.

Corax and Marcus took a leisurely breakfast but at last it was over and they were able to turn their minds to other matters.

"The table is quite firm," Corax remarked testing it. "Pisclus get up on it and lie down on your back. Right legs apart."

"Now Bestia hold his ankles and don't let go. If you do I'll put the ring on you and your balls are a good deal bigger than his. They'll be squashed into jelly before I have finished with them. Don't laugh boy I mean it."

"Marcus, hold his shoulders down and watch."

Corax spat on his hands and rubbed saliva over Pisclus's cock and balls. He slipped the ring around Pisclus's tiny prick and pushed it to it's base.

"Now one ball at a time," he said. "Look they've almost disappeared into the boy. You can't hide there you know."

He gripped one of the boy's minuscule balls between his finger and thumb. Despite it's small size it seemed impossible that it would go through the ring especially as the boy's prick already seemed to more than half fill it.

"Now squeeze it tight and push it through with the index finger of your left hand." He suited his actions to his words and Pisclus screamed shrilly as the pain tore through him. Marcus and Bestia fought to restrain the boy as he struggled in their grasp.

"Now Marcus," Corax continued once Pisclus was still again, "you do his other ball and I'll take his shoulders."

Marcus looked down at the boy as he lay prone on the table his chest heaving as he sobbed. It seemed impossible that there could be sufficient room to allow the second ball to be forced through the ring.

"You'll have to squeeze that one a good bit harder," Corax said reading the expression on his face.

Marcus squeezed and pushed and squeezed a bit more and pushed harder. Pisclus's screams rose in volume to achieve a fresh peak and then the ball popped through the ring to join it's fellow.

"All right let him go," Corax commanded.

Still screaming Pisclus rolled up into a small ball his hands grasping his crotch. Corax grabbed him by one ankle and pulled him roughly from the table.

"We may as well give Bestai his six cuts now," he said, "and Pisclus second. He should be able to feel them by then."

For the next half hour the room was filled of the sounds of boys being chastised; the crack of wood against bare flesh and the moans and whimpers of the victims.

The two chastened boys stood side by side in front of their masters, their lips quivering, tears in their eyes.

It was still raining.

"You and I," Corax said to Marcus, "may as well go down to the public room of the inn and see what the news is. Pisclus can attend us. Bestia you know where the harbour is in this town. I want you to go down there and see if a of mine galley, The "Imperial Dream" has arrived. If it has see the Captain and ask him to come and see me here. Do you know how to read boy?"

"No Sir"

"Then you'll have to ask some one to point the ship out to you if it's there. Do you understand boy?"

"Yes Sir."

There were only two other people in the public room a travelling peddler and his slave boy who were waiting for the rain to clear before continuing with their journey.

The peddler recognised Corax and greeted him deferentially. There were very few people in commercial life who did not know Corax at least by repute. They chatted for some time about trade and the effect on it of the latest frontier disturbances.

Marcus quickly lost interest and seating himself on a bench beckoned Pisclus to him. He pointed to the floor and the lad settled at his feet. Marcus began to stroke the boy's head and neck. Then his attention was caught by the conversation of the two adults.

"And there's the new capitation tax," the peddler said in the terms of despair that commercial men always reserve for matters involving taxation.

"Capitation tax?" Corax queried.

"Yes a charge of a quarter of a denarius on every slave boy between the ages of six and fourteen. It's been imposed by the procurator it is said to finance the purchase of more slave boys for the tin mines in Cornwall. You know how those mines consume boys and boys they have to use because of the size of the shafts. It's said that it is hoped the tax will drive down the price of boys as well."

"You sound," Corax said glancing quickly round and dropping his voice, "as if you're not convinced by the explanation."

"Well it may be true but I have also heard that it's a ruse to try to catch a sprig of some old patrician family that's been exiled here and whose broken bounds. I've also heard that it's the boy's own brother whose informed on him and alerted the procurator. But what ever the truth it's an added charge on the citizen."

"There's no escaping it either. They mark the boy with a brand when his tax is paid. No brand mark - a quarter denarius on the dot please."

"Proscus," he said sharply to his slave, "show the master the brand the tax collectors put on you."

The boy scrambled hastily to his feet and pulling up his tunic to reveal a sweetly rounded little bottom pointed to a small eagle incised into the flesh just below the left hip.

"The tax collectors arrive in Colchester the day after tomorrow and you will have to pay the tax on lover boy there," he said nodding at Pisclus who had lent his head against Marcus's thigh, "and any other boy you may have."

The rain cleared at that moment and the peddler, having arrived at a satisfactorily gloomy ending of their conversation, excused himself and left the room.

"Pisclus will have to go back to his parents." Corax said bluntly.

"Father.." Marcus protested.

"I'm sorry Marcus you can have one more night with him but then back he must go. As soon as the tax collectors arrive here they'll have him spotted as what he really is."

"Couldn't we have him branded," Marcus asked

"It's not just that," Corax said almost gently. "They're obviously on their look out for a slave boy of about Pisclus's age that doesn't look quite right. If they come across a pretty young slave boy in my party whose bottom I haven't enjoyed they'll know they've got him. I have a reputation you know. So that is that. Pisclus'll have to go back to his parents and return to being Gauis before the tax collectors arrive."

Part 10

"He'll have to go back to his parents and return to being Gauis before the tax collectors arrive." Pisclus heard these words with dismay. It was true that Marcus treated him harshly but he still loved the older boy for all his cruelty. Then if he returned home would he be treated any more kindly? He had only just been saved from a whipping from his big brother by Marcus and it seemed that it was that same brother who had betrayed him to the imperial authorities There was all the difference in the world between being beaten by Marcus, who when the beating was over would take him in his arms and comfort him and love him, and being flogged by a brother who hated him. With Marcus the beatings were almost part of the loving but his brother thrashed him to hurt him and for no other reason.

So upset was Pisclus by Corax's announcement that he forgot all the rules and protested.

"Please Sir. Don't send me back Sir. I want to stay with Marcus Sir...I'm sure I could take the branding Sir...Please Sir..."

Marcus, seeing the expression of anger on his father's face cuffed Pisclus hard on the side of the head. The boy crouched at his feet, his ears ringing from the blow, knowing there was more to come but also knowing that he must not try to defend himself.

Marcus lent forward and pulled off one of his sandals. Holding it by it's toe he hammered the heal down on the top of Pisclus's close cropped head.

"You filthy lump of dog's pooh." (CRACK)

"You talk."(CRACK)

"When you're spoken to."(CRACK)

"And no other time." (CRACK)

"Do you understand?" (CRACK)

"Yes Sir. Please Sir. Sorry Sir," Pisclus sobbed conscious that the blows were fully deserved.

Marcus dropped the sandal on the ground. Pisclus scrambled to his knees blood trickling down the side his face and onto his chest from a cut in his scalp. He picked up the sandal and leant forward to slip it back onto his master's foot. His short tunic, his only clothing, rode up his back exposing his tight little bottom, the smooth flesh ribbed with the livid weals left by that morning's caning.

Marcus looking down at him thought that the bruises accentuated rather than marred the beauty of his sweet boy's rump. He leant forward and ran a finger along one of the welts. Pisclus stilled for a second and then in answer to his master's touch raised his bum upwards unconsciously signalling his submission. Marcus licked his finger and the pressed it into the boy's bottom. There was the briefest moment of resistance then he felt Pisclus's heat close about him. The boy straightened, his eyes glazed, his breath came through his open lips in short gasps, and the muscles in his bum pumped as he tried to draw the finger deeper into his body.

Corax looked across at the aroused boy a contemptuous smile on his lips but with just a hint of compassion in his eyes.

"It's often the way," he said quietly. "The ones that are almost frigid to start with are the hottest once they've had a cock inside them. I envy you Marcus, that little tart of yours seems to be in permanent heat. Take him up to our rooms and enjoy yourself. You've got the rest of the day and night to do what you like with him. I'll send Bestia up to you when he gets back to give a bit of variety to your fun."

Marcus grinned, withdrew his finger from Pisclus's bottom and hurried him from the room with a series of sharp slaps on his bare bum.

It was early evening. Marcus lay half asleep on the couch in his room feeling sated and at ease with himself. The two slave boys moved slowly round the room preparing it for their masters' suppers. They had not bothered to put on their tunics since being dismissed from his bed by Marcus and were both naked. He could see that their limp cocks, never very large, had shrunk to minuscule proportions. Bestia's balls had almost disappeared into his crutch. Pisclus's on the other hand were held firmly out from his body by the cock ring which gave them a delightful, but probably Marcus thought in the circumstances, a rather painful prominence. Marcus noticed sleepily that as they moved about they whispered quietly together and every now and again ,when they passed near each other, gave one another intimate little touches on the bare bottom or thigh.

Marcus drifted off to sleep and only woke when his father returned to the rooms. It was obvious that Corax had been drinking and Marcus noted how quickly Bestia brought his master a fresh mug of wine and how frequently he replenished it during the evening. Corax was cheerful and expansive. It appeared he had achieved some sort of business coup with the captain of the Imperial Dream and that had put him in a good mood. So good a mood indeed that he did not notice that Pisclus was giving Marcus wine unmixed with water and often refilling his mug.

Marcus felt rather mussy after supper and threw himself on his couch while the two slave boys cleared the table. He remembered his father calling loudly for Bestia to help him into his bedroom and somewhat later the feel of Pisclus's smooth young boy's body as he slipped into the bed beside him.

He woke while it was still dark. He had a head ache, his mouth tasted foul and he thought he might be sick. He also had an erection.

There was little he could do about the first three. But the means lay immediately to hand to satisfy the fourth. He put his hand on Pisclus's hip and pulled the child's rump tight into his own crutch. The boy stirred and murmured something. Marcus slid his hand round to the front of the boy and fingered his tiny prick. Vaguely he felt something was wrong. He moved his hand to the lad's balls and began to play with them gently. Again he felt in a muddled sort of way that something was not quite right. He wished he could work out what was wrong. If only his head did not ache so much it would no doubt be easier.

Then suddenly he knew. The boy he was fondling had been cut and did not have a cock ring.

Kicking the boy out of his way he leapt from the couch and darted across to the fireplace where a lamp glimmered dimly. He seized it and held it up in the air.

He glanced across to the floor by the couch. On all fours on the ground crouched Bestia. At that moment a piercing boy's scream came from his father's room.

He stumbled across to the door and pushing it open saw, in the guttering light of the lamp, his father's massive bulk naked and hairy pinning down Pisclus's slim body. Corax's powerful buttocks thrust savagely down as he tried to hammer his way into the screaming child.

"What do you think you're doing here boy?" he shouted furiously at Marcus and then catching sight of Bestia standing behind his son his eyes widened .

He swore angrily and rolled off the bed. Pisclus's shrill screams fell to a quiet desperate sobbing. Marcus gazed at his fathers crutch wondering at his swollen cock, erect and cruelly demanding. He noted beads of red moisture darkly glistening in the lamp light among the forest of the man's pubic hairs. With a feeling of sick horror he saw blood was flowing rather than dribbling from Pisclus's ravaged bottom.

"I thought it was just Bestia making a heavy weather of being buggered," Corax exclaimed angrily.

"Quick boy," he shouted at Bestia, "get down to the kitchens and tell Vacca to come here straight away. Hurry now curse you."

Bestia turned and ran from the room. Corax bent and picking up a length of cloth from the floor pushed it between Pisclus's legs in a rough attempt to stem the bleeding. The boy moaned and for no particular reason that Marcus could see whispered faintly, "I only screamed when you were almost all in me Sir."

"What's happened father?" Marcus demanded desperately. "How did the two boys swap beds and why?"

"They did it while we were drunk and Pisclus hoped that if I fucked him he would be allowed to stay with you." Seeing Marcus's puzzled face he continued impatiently, "surely you realise the boy is in love with you."

"You mean he was prepared to sacrifice his bum to your cock just so that he could stay with me?" The thought off anyone being prepared to sacrifice himself in that way just to be with another amazed Marcus.

He himself was fond enough of Pisclus. He enjoyed fucking him and he enjoyed hurting him, but so far as he was concerned, if and when Pisclus went he would simply find another pretty young slave boy to amuse himself with. There were plenty of them about and they were cheap enough.

He looked at Pisclus with renewed interest. The boy certainly did look rather appealing stretched out on the bed, his thin shoulders heaving as he sobbed. He moved into the room and absently reached out to fondle the lad's dark cropped head.

"He can stay with us now can't he father?" he asked. He slid his hand round the boy's head to fondle his cheek. He felt the child move and then the touch of the boy's tongue on the palm of his hand. He smiled as he realised that even in his agony the little whore had found a way of arousing him.

Corax hesitated a moment and then said carefully, "well I won't be sending him back to his parents."

"Thank you Father," Marcus began and then realising the implication in Corax's choice of words stopped.

"Vacca's pretty good with this sort of boy's injury," Corax said comfortingly. "Anyway where is the woman?"

They stood a moment listening but the only sound was Pisclus's quiet whimpering.

"I can see why Pisclus got involved in this," Marcus said struck by another thought, "but why Bestia? All he stand to get is a sound whipping."

"I've said before slaves don't think like us. He probably didn't think as far forward as that and anyway look at it from his point of view. Have you any idea how alone in the world those two boys are. They only have each other for help or comfort. He'd want to help Pisclus if he could and he would want Pisclus to stay here. A bloody back might seem a low price to pay for that."

"You won't...Will you beat him Father?"

"I haven't got the energy at the moment ,but probably, some time certainly, if not for this then for something else. Now here's Vacca at last."

"Well you weren't able to keep your hand's off him were you? Or your cock out of his bum which is more to the purpose. What did I say would happen if you tried that on? And what has happened? Always the same Corax you take what you want and don't care for the consequences."

"And you're always the same too woman," Corax rejoined grimly. "Looking for some one to blame rather than trying to put things right. Typical woman. No wonder I prefer boys."

"You prefer slave boys because you can do what you like to them" Vacca snapped. " Well I suppose I'll have to try to patch this poor little tyke up so you can have the fun of ripping his bottom open all over again when the fancy takes you."

"Now then baby let's have a look at what the cruel man has done to your tender little backside with that great shaft of his."

She gently removed the rag from between Pisclus legs and parted his buttocks. The boy screamed shrilly and Marcus saw the woman's face change. She pushed the blood soaked cloth back and straightened.

"Well," she said quietly all bluster gone. "I'll do my best for the poor little sod."

She stooped and effortlessly gathered Pisclus in her arms. She turned and left the room followed, after a second or twos hesitation, by Marcus and his father.

Vacca crossed the yard into the kitchen. A low fire smouldering in the great chimney place provided the large shadowy room with a faint uncertain light. Here and there against the walls small shapes were huddled under ragged blankets. From a dark corner came a sound of whispering and faint movement which stilled the instant the woman entered.

"Get that table, cleared, fetch all the candles you can find, get a pillow from my bed and my medicine chest, one of you put a kettle on to boil, and someone get a bucket of cold water from the well. Hurry, quick if you don't want a taste of my boot up your idle bums."

Vacca issued a stream of orders and the blanket covered bundles littering the floor unwrapped themselves to reveal naked boy and girl slaves who hastened to obey her.

She laid Pisclus face down on the table a pillow under his hips lifting his bottom.

Marcus saw Ceres appear a little belatedly from the corner from where the giggling had come, a sheepish grin splitting the black lad's dark face, his young cock swollen and erect. He was followed by a smaller boy, fair curly hair tumbling over his forehead, his tiny boy's prick comically erect.

"Ceres," Vacca gritted catching sight of him. "I'm sorry to disturb your fun you over sexed little tyke. Come here now I've got a job of work for you. Come on move yourself or I'll take a knife to you and end your games for good."

"You too Bestia," she continued in milder terms. "I need two sturdy lads to help hold Pisclus still for me. When I tell you to I want you to take a leg each and hold them apart. And hold them firm and still if you don't want me to take the skin off your idle young arses with the cane."

"Corax, you're the strongest you take a grip of his shoulders."

"Marcus he's your property so you will have the most responsible and skilled job. Come and stand by me and I will show you what you are to do."

"Now Ceres, Bestia pull his legs gently apart and hold him still. You too please Corax."

She dipped a small jug in the bucket of cold water. With one hand she parted Pisclus's bottom and poured a steady trickle of water down the boy's cleft washing away and momentarily stemming the blood flowing from his ripped flesh. Standing beside Vacca Marcus could see how his father's cock had split boy's body.

"That will never mend by itself," Vacca said soberly ignoring Pisclus's wild sobbing. "It'll have to be stitched. What you have to do Marcus , when I tell you, is to hold his bottom open like this with one hand and keep a steady flow of cold water over the wound with the other."

She looked down into his young face. In it she read shock, self doubt and concern. She suspected that these were emotions that were rarely felt by Corax's son.

She reached out and ruffled his hair.

"You can do it," she said. "You have to do it."

"Now sweet heart," she continued turning her attention to Pisclus and patting his bare rump encouragingly. "This won't take long and after it's over your bottom will be as good as new, so try and be a brave little boy and make your master proud of you."

Pisclus struggled to silence his sobbing and muttered some thing incoherently.

Vacca took a large steel needle from the small chest that lay beside her on the kitchen table. She threaded a length of cat gut through it's eye. After holding the point of the needle in the flame of a candle for a second or two she nodded. Corax lent down hard on Pisclus's shoulders. Bestia and Ceres tightened their grips on the boy's legs. Marcus took a deep breath. Taking care not to get in Vacca's way he parted Pisclus's rump and directed a stream of ice cold water over the boy's torn flesh. He watched as the point of the needle pierced the child's skin bringing a bead of blood to the surface. Pisclus screamed and, despite all the efforts of Corax and the two boys holding, his body shuddered convulsively. Swiftly the woman stitched the upper wound and deftly tied off.

"All right," she said. "Give him a second to get over that."

Marcus straightened. He was surprised to find that he was trembling. It seemed to him hours had passed although he knew that Vacca had taken only a few seconds to complete her work.

Vacca threaded a fresh length of gut. She nodded and Pisclus's martyrdom resumed. Corax, Bestia and Ceres fought to control his writhing body. His shrill screams redoubled in volume. Marcus tried to blot everything from his consciousness except the need to keep the boy's bottom open and the cold water flowing over the open wound. It seemed to him he was standing in a black void where the only reality was the boy's tortured flesh and Vacca's nimbly moving fingers. Vaguely, as though from a great distance he could hear Pisclus's frenzied howling and the grunts and panting of his father and the two lads as they struggled to hold the boy still.

Then at last Vacca was finished. Marcus crouched beside Pisclus his arm across the boy's bare shoulders hugging him and alternately kissing the side of his neck and whispering encouragement in his ear. He found himself gently moved to one side. Vacca knelt in his place holding a bowl of steaming liquid to Pisclus's lips.

Marcus realised that he had an erection. He moved down the table and placed one hand on the back of Pisclus's thigh and squeezed encouragingly. "When will it be all right to fuck him again?" he asked catching Vacca's eye.

"Just like your father," Vacca remarked. "Well young flesh heels fast but not the fast. He won't even walk for a day or two."

She caught sight of Marcus's erection and laughed.

"Take your pick of the boys here for time being if you want," she invited.

Marcus glanced round. He pointed at the fare haired boy who had earlier been with Ceres. The little lad had crept up to the black boy, who was still holding one of Pisclus's legs, and was pressing himself against the older boy, his fair skin seeming to deepen the natural duskiness of Ceres flesh.

"I'll have that one," Marcus said pointing.

"A good choice," Vacca said cheerfully. "There's no reason why a lazy good for nothing animal like Ceres should be allowed to be the first to enjoy such a tasty little bum."

The blonde looked far from pleased at having the enjoyment of bottom assigned to Marcus away from his own choice. Vacca caught the expression on his face.

"What boy," she shouted. "You think you can decide who enjoys your miserable little carcass do you? Well you're wrong you belong to me and I can do what I like with you. I could have your throat slit and your body cut up and fed to the dogs. I could have you chained in the yard and left to die of starvation . Nobody could stop me and nobody would help you. You're dirt. You're pig shit and I'm going to make sure you don't forget."

She paused. The boy began to cry quietly.

Well," she continued a bit more quietly. "I'm a bit tired now. Who will I get to flog you?"

She paused and a smile crossed her face.

"Ceres," she said, "you're a strong lad. Fetch the cane and bend your little friend over the edge of the table. Four strokes. Four strokes and be sure you lay them on good and hard or you'll be having a taste of the rod as well."

Ceres darted across the kitchen and fetched a cane from where it hung beside the chimney piece. He buried his left hand in the child's fair curls and forced him down over the end of the table. A broad grin split his face and his cock was swollen and erect. It was clear that if he was disappointed at being denied the enjoyment of the boy's bottom in one way he intended to make the most of the opportunity now offered to him. His victim squirmed and pleaded but to no avail. He lifted the cane over his shoulder and brought it slashing down. Wood cracked against bare flesh, the child screamed. Again the cane rose and then fell with an urgent vicious hiss. Once more the boy howled as the rod bit into his defenceless rump. Vacca nodded approvingly. There would be no need she realised to have Ceres beaten as well.

Once the fourth cut was delivered across the whimpering boy's taught bum Marcus took him by the ear and twisting it viciously marched him from the room.

"Well," Vacca said, "I've got an inn to run and I need some sleep. Pisclus can spend tonight in my bed. It's about the only place here where I can be sure his bottom will be safe from interference."

Cradling the boy in her arms she carried him to her room. She laid him gently face down on the bed. She noticed the boy was crying silently

"You're bottom still hurts does it baby? It'll get better soon. Try and go to sleep."

"It does hurt Miss but it's not that," Pisclus sobbed. "It's my Master Miss. He's got that other boy Miss. He's younger than me and blond and prettier than me. He won't want me ever again."

"You silly little tart," Vacca said clipping him not very hard on the ear, "you can't expect your master not to enjoy himself just because you're not available. Now go to sleep. The quicker you're bottom's healed the better chance there is of your master wanting you back in his bed."

She lay down beside the boy. Pisclus wriggle close to her finding comfort and security in the warmth of her body. She felt the child's small bony elbow pressing into her side and was reminded of another little boy who had used to come to her in search of comfort many years ago. She wondered what had happened to her brother. She remembered how they had both cried when their master had said he was going to sell the boy.

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