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. The contents of this story are extreme. You have been warned. Comments and suggestions are welcome and should be sent to zelamir@hotmail. com
"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 _c_o_c_k_ 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.
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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 _c_o_c_k_s, 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_, 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 _f_u_c_k_ed 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _f_u_c_k_ing 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _s_e_x_ed 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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 _f_u_c_k_ 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 the 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 _s_h_i_t_ 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 _c_o_c_k_ 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.