This story is pure (if that is the appropriate word) fantasy. It involves the _s_e_x_ual and physical abuse of children by adults. If you are under age or do not enjoy such stories please do not read it. Comments and suggestions are welcome and should be sent to zelamir@hotmail. com. I will reply to all messages except those that say they disaprove of this story because it involves the _s_e_x_ual and physical abuse of boys by adults. That is what this story is about. You have been warned Earlier episodes can be found in the authors personal archive
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 _s_h_i_t_ 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 _s_h_i_t_. 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_."
"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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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."