This story involves the abuse, physical and _s_e_x_ual, of young boys by adults. If you do not enjoy such stories or if you are under age please do not read it.
Earlier episodes of this story can be found in the author's archive.
If you want to comment please write to zelamir@hotmail. com. The only messages I will ignore are those that tell me the writer did not enjoy the story because it involved the _s_e_x_ual and physical abuse of minors. That is what this story is about. You have been warned.
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 _c_o_c_k_.
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.
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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 _c_o_c_k_."
"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 _s_e_x_ 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 _s_h_i_t_," 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 _c_o_c_k_. 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 _c_o_c_k_ Sir and he always grabs everything Sir."
"You want my _c_o_c_k_," 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_, 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_. "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 _f_u_c_k_ed 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 _f_u_c_k_ing 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 _s_e_x_ual arousement, the boy's fearful but unable to take their eyes from the unfolding drama.
Marcus felt his own _c_o_c_k_ 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.