This is the eighth instalment of a story which will include descriptions of men abusing boys both physically and _s_e_x_ually. If you do not enjoy such stories or are under eighteen please do not read it.
The story will include some deaths but it is not a snuff story. The deaths will not be described in a provocative way and are included only for story or character development.
I write because I enjoy doing so. You are at perfectly at liberty to copy or post this story. If you do so I would be glad however if you would acknowledge my authorship.
I would be glad to receive any comments (pleasant if possible) or suggestions you care to make. Please send them to zelamir@hotmail. com. I will reply to any messages I receive other than those complaining that this story include descriptions of young boys being physically and _s_e_x_ually abused. That is what it is about. You have been warned.
When Crastus tipped Marius back onto his feet the boy was on the point of orgasm. He knew nothing at that moment of the sunlit room, the grinning men, Pulchellus smirking his at his humiliation. All he was aware of was the pounding of his own blood and the feeling of imminent release as though his whole body was going to explode in an enormous burst of energy. Every sensation, every nerve, was concentrated on this single moment of impending ecstasy. A brilliant white light filled his head, blood roared in his ears. All else was obscure.
Then suddenly he felt agonising pain as the iron ring was clamped tight about the root of his _c_o_c_k_ and scrotum cutting off the blood and aborting in that instant his orgasm. Marius moaned in pain and frustration. His little boy's prick, a second or two before rigid and vibrant with lust, was reduced to limpness. Crastus, content at teaching Marius that not only was a slave boy's body owned by his master but the pleasures to be derived from it were as well as their enjoyment and could be granted or withheld at will, eased the pressure on the ring before locking it in place. Marius squealed as the man checked that the plug was firmly anchored by tugging sharply on the thin chain that ran along his perineum attaching it to the iron ring about his ball sack..
Crastus had the horses saddled and brought to the courtyard ready for their departure. Then he ordered Pannychis led out to where he stood ready to mount. She walked unsteadily and was hardly able to keep on her feet. She stood before him head bowed and submissive waiting for him to decide her fate. Her only clothing was a rag wound round her waist. Marius saw with pity and guilt, for he knew he was the cause of her suffering, that her shoulders and the sides of her breasts were ribbed with weals from the whip.
"The bitch can't walk any distance," Crastus announced. "We'll have to take a mule from the stables here for her to ride on. Pulchellus will have to lead it for her. She won't have the strength to do more than sit on it. At least we won't have to watch that she doesn't runaway."
"What about Marius?" Varro asked.
"He can do some work. I've got some stuff for him to carry." Crastus picked up a small sack that clinked when he lifted it. "Those goblets we drank out of last night. No one will come looking for them when we've gone. Come here boy."
Marius moved forward and took the sack. It was a heavy burden for an eleven year old boy to carry.
"Hadn't we better tether him to one of our horses?" Varro suggested. "He might get lost or run away. Those goblets are silver and worth a bit."
"He won't ran away and he'll keep up because if he's not with us when we halt I'll whip that bitch he cares about so much till he turns up."
"Do you understand me boy? You get left behind and you'll be able to tell where we are from the screams of the slut as I whip her."
"I'll keep up Master," Marius promised bending under the weight of the sack as he shouldered it.
A few minutes later the small caravan clattered out of the courtyard. The four men riding in the front, then Pulchellus leading the mule, his short white tunic the reward for his treachery flapping against his bare thighs. At the rear in the dust thrown up by the riders trudged Marius his shoulders already aching under the weight of his load his eyes fixed on the road a few feet ahead of him. His only thought was to keep up. He was not going to be the cause again of Pannychis feeling the whip. The farmhouse in which he had grown up a privileged free boy, the master's son, receded behind him as he began a long painful journey into the most abject servitude.
The horsemen kept up a brisk pace and the journey was a long one. As the sun rose higher the heat increased the land on either side of the long straight road shimmering in the still hot air. It was not only Marius shoulders that ached now. His legs, his lungs, his whole body did. At first he had made some effort to drive the flies that tormented him away. Now they crawled unheeded over his body feasting on the sweat that tricked down his face and naked chest and limbs. He knew he was lagging behind and in his desperation to keep up he had stumbled a few times and cut his knees. Blood oozed from the cuts and here too flies buzzed and crawled. His feet had been hardened running about the farm shoeless but even so they were sore and each step he took he left a few red spots of blood behind where the sharp stones had cut him.
Glancing up he saw that the horse men were now about a quarter of a mile ahead of him. They were approaching a small pinewood. Then he saw Crastus reign in his horse and dismount at the side of the road. He broke into a stumbling run desperate to catch up before Crastus began to use the whip on Pannychis.
He felt as though his lungs were going to burst. He arrived at the edge of the wood and dropped to his knees, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. It seemed dark in the shade of the pine trees after the glare of the sun on the open road. The warm air was heavy with the scent of pine needles. The only sound was the trickle of running water and the murmur of crickets . A small stream welling from a tumble of rocks had been diverted to fill a stone trough before trickling away under he road by way of a culvert. The men had dismounted from their horses and given the reigns to Pulchellus to hold while they splashed the cool water over their faces and drank deeply from the trough. Marius's throat and mouth were dry but he knew without being told that he should wait until the men had finished before attempting to slake his thirst.
Pulchellus meanwhile had lead the horses to where the overflow from the trough formed a narrow brook and let them drink. The men moved away and Marius sidled nervously forward. Surely now it was all right for him to drink. He was just about to dip his face into the trough when there was an enraged roar from behind him.
"Get away from there filth," Crastus shouted. "We don't want our drinking water messed up by dirt like you. Drink with the other animals."
Marius backed quickly away. He turned towards the place where Pulchellus was watering the horses.
"Get off. There's no room here," Pulchellus sneered. "Wait your turn."
Marius squatted down on the bare earth to wait. At last Pulchellus led the horses away and Marius scuttled forward to kneel in the mud turned up by the horses hooves and at last to plunge his face into the cool water. Then he was aware Pannychis was kneeling beside him. The two of them, the naked young boy and the scantily clad teenage girl knelt side by side their heads bent to the stream their bottoms raised. Thirst and fatigue had robbed them of all sense of modesty or pride.
"Look at them boss," Varro jeered, "which rump would you prefer the brat's or the slut's?"
Marius glanced over his shoulder. The men were sitting on the grass some way away eating bread and cheese. Pulchellus moved among them pouring wine from a goatskin flask. He realised that when he was drinking he exposed his bottom to the watching men. He was too thirsty to care and he bent back to the stream. Pannychis however was more modest made a pathetic effort to pull the single fragment of cloth about her waste down over her rump.
"Leave that be slut," Crastus shouted angrily, "How can we make a sensible choice unless we can see what is available."
Pannychis hastily withdrew her hands.
"I prefer boys every time," Crastus replied after a second or so's hesitation. "There's something about a young boy's slim hips and tight little bottom that makes my _c_o_c_k_ jump to attention. A girl's got too much fat on her and in the wrong places."
"I dunno," Crinium said, "the bitch is not a bad looker. I reckon I could _f_u_c_k_ her and enjoy it. Come over here slut and let me have a better look at you."
Pannychis scrambled hastily to her feet and stumbled over to the group of leering men. She did not hesitate but Marius could tell by the way she carried herself that she was terrified.
Crinium grinning reached up and jerked the cloth away from her. Pannychis made an involuntary gesture to hide her nakedness but quickly checked herself letting her open hands fall back to her sides. She stood facing her tormentors knowing that she had no choice to submit to their inspection and to anything else they chose to do to her.
Marius watched the girls humiliation with rage in his heart but unable to intervene. Pannychis he knew had saved his life but he could do nothing to help her. There were four men much stronger and bigger than him and even the law was against him. Pannychis and he were slaves, the men free. They could do what they liked to the girl and himself. He was sure there was worse to come but if he tried to help they would hurt the girl more just to punish him. He blinked back tears of frustration and forced himself to be still.
"Not bad," Crinium said now get down on your knees bitch and show me your bottom. No not facing me cow. That's right and put your face to the ground."
He pulled himself onto his knees and pulling off his loin cloth lifted his tunic above his waste. His _c_o_c_k_ stood out rigid in front of him cruelly demanding. Gripping Pannychis by her hips he pulled her back onto his erect rod entering her from behind. The girl moaned as he rode her body driving into her with increasing force. He caught hold of her shoulders pulling her backwards until she was kneeling upright. He gripped her breasts in both hands squeezing cruelly, digging his finger tips into the bare flesh. Marius could see the tears flowing down Pannychis's cheeks. His thrusts became harder and faster. Pannychis threw her head back. Her breath came in short rapid pants. Her whole body shuddered and then Crinium pushed her roughly away.
"Any one else want the bitch?" he asked.
There was no reply. Getting to his feet he bent to recover his loin cloth.
"Get your filthy carcass out of here," he shouted at the girl planting a hefty kick on her rump. "I've finished with you."
Pannychis scuttled back towards Marius but not quickly enough to prevent Crinium booting her once again.
"I can't think she was as good to _f_u_c_k_ as Pulchellus was last night," Varro remarked.
"A girl is different to a boy," Crinium replied.
"Well that's certainly true," Crastus said laughing. "Nobody could deny that but which is the better to _f_u_c_k_."
The men began to talk among themselves remembering and comparing slaves both boys and girls whose bodies they had enjoyed. In time they grew quieter and one by one overcome by the heat of the day they dropped off to sleep.
Marius moved closer to Pannychis. She was lying on her face on the ground. He could see her shoulders heaving as she sobbed silently.
"Pannychis," he said quietly touching her hair softly, "I'm sorry Pannychis. I'm the cause of all this I know I am."
The girl moved so that her tear stained face was turned to him.
"It's not that I'm crying about. It's not what they've done to me. It's that I enjoyed having that man in me. I didn't want to but I did. A slave, that's what I am and that's what I deserve to be."
The boy sat with his hand resting on the girl's head. In time her sobbing stilled and she slept.
"I'm a pretty boy," Marius said to himself. "They all say I am. I'll be bought by a rich senator and I'll work hard to please him and then when I'm fourteen he'll set me free and give me a lot of money and I'll find Pannychis and buy her and set her free and she won't be a slave any longer. It's a long time I know. More than three years but I'll do it I swear I will." Shortly he too slept.
Marius was jerked back to wakefulness by Pulchellus's bare foot prodding him in the ribs. Then it was another long painful march until with the light fading Crastus called a halt at a squalid inn on the Via Cassia just outside the town of Volsinii.
Marius staggered into the inn yard and collapsed to his knees. Crastus swung off his horse and strode back to where the exhausted boy huddled on the ground.
"Look after this," he ordered up the sack of silver and handing it to Varro.
"And you," he said prodding Marius's bare bottom with his toe, "get to your feet quick now."
Wearily Marius dragged himself upright. Crastus stooped to unlock the iron ring locked round the base of his scrotum. He turned the boy round. Marius squealed as the man jerked the plug from his bottom.
"Get over there and empty yourself brat," Crastus commanded pushing Marius towards the open drain that ran down the centre of the court yard.
"Make the slut hurry up boss," Varro called out impatiently. "We're thirsty and hungry."
The boy squatted over the drain straining as Crastus stood towering above him urging him on with sharp kicks to his thigh. Exhausted though he was Marius felt his humiliation deeply.
Without giving Marius a chance to clean himself or bothering to apply further grease Crastus, once he was satisfied that Marius was finished, pulled him to his feet and jamming the plug back into his bottom locked it in place.
"Come on whore," Crinium snapped grabbing hold of Pannychis by the arm and dragging her towards the open door of the inn. "Perhaps you can earn some money for us tonight."
The man disappeared into the tavern leaving the two boys to look after the horses. After that was done Marius could hardly manage to swallow the bowl of thin porridge that was his only food before falling asleep on a bundle of filthy of straw in the stables. When he was kicked awake in the morning though foot sore and tired though he was his determination to rescue Pannychis and to make Pulchellus suffer for his treachery was undiminished.
The next morning the men were in a good humour coming out into the yard, where Marius was waiting with the horses, laughing and talking loudly.
"Pannychis," Crinium shouted, "get out here you lazy tart or I'll bloody your shoulders again."
"I don't see why she shouldn't walk and I ride on the mule," Pulchellus suggested slyly.
"If you made as much for us as the bitch did last night you'd have a point," Crinium replied clinking some coins in his hand, "but you didn't. Just spent your time with Crastus's _c_o_c_k_ up your bum."
It was at the end of that day that they entered Rome through the Porta Fontinalis. By then there was nothing about Marius that might have alerted any imperial spy to the fact that Crastus had not been true to his commission and had failed to kill the last surviving child of Sejanus. Exhausted naked and filthy there was nothing to distinguish him from the many hundreds of young slave boys that swarmed in the streets of the capital city.
Leaving the horses at a livery stable the men shouldered their way trough the crowded streets as Marius plodded wearily after them bent under his heavy burden. Skirting the Capitol hill they passed through the meat and livestock market. It was on the point of closing and the many stalls were being dismantled or locked up but the stink of near rotting meat was nauseating. Then the streets became progressively narrower and dirtier as they penetrated deeper into the slums of the Aventine. Tenements towered upwards on each side of them, the air was still and fetid, the noise of a busy city, people quarrelling, tradesmen shouting their wares, a smith busy with his hammer, echoed about them.
Crastus stopped outside a building indistinguishable from those that crowded about it on either side except that perhaps it was, if that was possible, even dirtier and more run down than it's neighbours.