This is the fourteenth instalment of a story which will include descriptions of men physically abusing boys. 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 abused. That is what it is about. You have been warned.
Marius crawled into the corner of the cell the chain about his ankle clanking as he moved. He curled up and listened to the footsteps of the groom receding into the distance. Soon all was quiet. He lay there waiting for sleep to come to him but it did not come quickly.
It was not likely that it should for the next day would determine the whole course of his future life. He was going to be taken to market and sold to the highest bidder like any other item of livestock. His purchaser would own him in just the same way as he owned his dog or his horse.
Marius did not feel any great resentment in being treated in that way. Slavery was a part of life. He wished he was not a slave and he was fearful of what was to come but to be a slave was to suffer a misfortune not an injustice. He hoped he would be bought by a kind master. He knew very well that Scyrax dealt in speciality goods and the nature of the services which he would be required to provide. He knew too that he was a pretty boy. Only such boys were kept by Scyrax. His body told him that he was ready. Lying there, alone and frightened, he tried to imagine he was with his new master. The feel of the man's arms about his body, the man's smell in his nostrils, his taste in his mouth.
He told himself he would try hard to be a good slave and to please his master. Indeed it was likely he would try hard. Brutally wrenched from his family he was in desperate need of affection. Marius wanted to love and be loved.
He wondered who his master would be, perhaps a senator or at least a rich knight. Then after many years of loyal service he would be granted his freedom and he would be able to find Pannnychis the slave girl who had suffered so much for helping him. He would buy her and set her free. He would buy Sullis from Scyrax as well and then they could all live together. Pannychis could cook and look after the house and he and Sullis could work and earn money.
For a moment he lay there dreaming happily but then his thoughts of Pannychis reawakened nightmare memories of the last few weeks. Echios's, his father's steward, sudden change from obsequious servant to insolent gaoler. His imprisonment in the farm cellar, the darkness squalor and hunger relieved only by the scraps of food smuggled to him by Pannychis. The terror that overcame him when the girl did not come and he was left to lie there in his own filth, his hunger gnawing at his guts. The sudden appearance of Crastinus who informed him with casual brutality that he had killed his father and sister and brother. His own shame at the way his body had been awakened by the touch of this butcher. The brutalities committed by Crastinus and his men during their stay at the farm, the whipping of Echios's favourite boy Pulchellus and of his own protector and friend Pannychis. The horrors of the long painful march to Rome. His sale to the slave dealer Scyrax and the cruelties he had witnessed in his house, the flogging of Nisus and Giton and Sulis and Lysias and dozens of other frightened and defenceless boys. He heard again the sound of leather cracking against bare flesh, of boys screaming as the lash tore their tender bodies. He remembered his own agony as Maccius had laid the cane across his quivering rump.
Terror replaced hope in his mind. He curled up in a small ball of naked misery sobbing quietly to himself. In time sleep brought him a momentary release from his fears.
He was woken by a groom unlocking the iron ring about his ankle. He was led out of the cell and along a series of passages to a high ceilinged room. The bright sunlight that filled it brought out the brilliant colourings of the frescoes that covered it's walls. They portrayed scenes of the most debauched and refined depravity. Beautiful children and youths of both _s_e_x_es were pictured catering to the tastes of various god's and other creatures. The artist had combined cruelty and _s_e_x_ual licence to create a masterpiece of eroticism. The beauty of the boys pictured was however rivalled by that of the scantily dressed and naked lads who hurried on bare feet about the chamber bearing trays laden with food, drinking cups, ewers of hot water, towels, mirrors and all the other paraphernalia of a luxurious breakfast and toilet.
In the centre of this activity stood the gross figure of Scyrax. At the moment when Marius was brought to the room he was standing naked by his couch, his huge belly bulging before him. He was urinating into a silver bowl held for him by a small black boy with the sweetest roundest bottom that could be imagined.. The child knelt respectfully on the floor while his master directed a stream of pungent amber fluid into the bowl held only a few inches away from his face.
The groom left Marius standing just inside the door. With a feeling of sick horror the boy saw Maccius lounging on the couch. The young man was naked but while Scyrax's body was fat and was covered with a mat of dark hair Maccius was slim with only a tuft of blond hair about his scrotum. But thin and hairless though his body was he held himself with such arrogance that it was impossible to confuse him with the slave boys who hurried nervously about the room.
He was playing with a dagger with an ivory hilt, it's pommel set with a single large ruby. The sunlight glinted on the slim blade as he toyed with it. While Marius watched Maccius lent forward and smiling gently rested the point against the side of the little Negro's thigh. The child tensed as he felt the touch of the cold metal against his bare flesh.. Maccius smile broadened as he increased the pressure on the dagger. Marius saw it's point sink into the boy's taught thigh. A bead of blood formed on his dark skin and began to trickle downwards. The boy's chest heaved as he felt the pain but still he held the bowl steady. Discipline in the House of Scyrax was firm.
At last the stream of pee dwindled to a trickle. Scyrax shook the last few drops from the tip of his _c_o_c_k_ and wiped his hands on the child's tight black curls. He gestured and the boy rose to his feet. He bowed deeply and backed away still carrying the bowl with it's steaming contents. As the boy passed him Marius saw the side of his leg was glistening darkly with fresh blood.
Maccius laughed and licked the tip of the dagger.
Scyrax glanced round and seeing Marius beckoned the boy to him. Marius moved forward on leaden legs his eyes fixed on Maccius who said nothing but smiling coldly tested the point of his dagger on his thumb..
"I think he remembers you darling," Scyrax remarked giggling softly as he reached out and drew the reluctant boy to him.
Seating himself on the couch beside his lover he bent forward to examine the wax seal on the cord knotted tightly about Marius's scrotum.
"Why Mariullus you have been a good boy haven't you? I knew you would. Maccius would you be very kind and cut it off."
Maccius giggled and leaning over the man's fat thighs pressed the blade of the dagger across the base of Marius's prick. Marius shuddered and closed his eyes.
"Stand very still now sweetest," Scyrax counselled him softly, "I don't want Maccius making a mistake. A pretty little thing like you would be worth much less if he cut too far."
Maccius giggled again and then Marius felt the sharp blade drawn lightly across his prick. His _c_o_c_k_ snapped upright and he realised the cord had been neatly severed. He gave a sob of relief and Scyrax laughed outright.
Felix appeared carrying a tray with a variety of objects on it including a strange canvass tube with a bronze nozzle at one end and followed by two boys both carrying large earthenware bowls; one empty, one half full of gently steaming water.
"Now Mariullus we've got to get you ready for the auction," the fat man said taking hold of the boy by his wrist and pulling him face down over his knees. "We must have you clean inside and out."
He rested the one hand on the boy's rump and Marius wriggled appreciatively under it's touch. He felt strangely content lying across his master's fat thighs his bare bum and ready to his hand. He felt no shame just a feeling off acceptance and surrender.
"There's a good boy," Scyrax murmured softly patting his naked rump. "Now push that pretty little bum of yours as high as you can and spread your legs. That's right ... good lad."
Marius gasped as he felt Scyrax's grease coated finger tips pressing into him.
"There we are... .Now the nozzle. I'll just get it a little warm so it doesn't make you jump so much when I push it in."
Marius caught his breath again at the further invasion and then after a slight pause a delicious sensation as warm water flowed into him. After a time the initial feeling of well being turned to discomfort and then to positive pain as the pressure of the fluid inside him increased.
He murmured a protest and wriggled uneasily on Scyrax's lap.
"Just a little bit more my sweet," the fat man cooed and then just as Marius though he would burst the nozzle was withdrawn from his bottom.
"Up you get little one," Scyrax said reinforcing his command with a sharp slap on the boy's bottom.
"Now hold that inside you till Maccius has counted to twenty."
Maccius began to count very slowly, deliberately leaving long pauses between each number and drawing each word out for as long as he could
"Oooone.......twoooo.......threee....."
Marius whimpered and clapped his hands to his bottom trying desperately to hold the liquid inside him. He began to jig about on his bare feet trying to find some relief from his agony while his two tormentors lent back on the couch watching him and enjoying his discomfort.
At last Maccius completed his leisurely count.
Marius in the nick of time made it to the empty earthenware bowl. He squatted over it emptying himself while Scyrax watched him with a quizzical smile on his face and the bustle of the room went on around him regardless. Even Marius despite the harsh schooling he had undergone felt the shame of his position.
A great tub was carried into the room by four youths and filled with scented water. Marius was required to kneel in it while Scyrax sponged him down. Then he was wrapped in a towel and dried. Oils were brought and the man's plump soft hands strayed over the boy kneading and stroking, leaving no cleft or cranny of his young body untouched. As he worked Scyrax talked. He spoke softly, almost hypnotically, of the things that Marius would experience at the hands of his new master, of the pleasures he would experience and give, commenting on the attractions of his body and the uses to which they would be put.
"Look at these legs Maccius so slim and elegant and yet so strong. His thighs firm and smooth and his bottom, so pert, so well rounded, those dimples, there and there and this cleft... Just bend forward a little my child.... can you imagine so tight...... " and so on for Scyrax knew that in order to get the best price for a boy of the sort he traded in the child had to be sent to the block in a state of high excitement
At last it was finished and Marius stood before his slim boy's body burnished and glistening.
"Have you seen anything nicer?" Scyrax demanded. "Look at the little dear, his tiny _c_o_c_k_ all stiff and hard, ready and eager for his new master. He'll fetch a good price."
"I'd like to have him," Maccius remarked lightly.
He paused a puzzled look on his face.
"Why is it that I enjoy destroying beautiful things?" he asked suddenly.
"Well you can't have this one." Scyrax replied lightly. "He's going to make us lots of money. Aren't you Mariullus."
He took the boy's chin between his finger and thumb and tipped his head back so he looked down into his face.
"You see Mariullus," he continued, "that's a slave brat's only protection. His cost to his master. The more you cost the more he'll look after you. So if you fetch a high price it will be good for both of us."
He paused and smiling ran his finger along the boys lips.
"And just to make sure you try really hard to at the market. I'll put a nice big reserve price on you and if you do not make that reserve I will have you brought back here and give you to Maccius for him to play with. So you will try hard won't you child?"
"Yes Master," Marius whispered and waited to hear his fate.
"Fifty sesterces child. You make that for me or I'll give you to Maccius."
Marius's heart sank. It was almost enough to buy a good horse. Who would pay such a sum for a mere boy?
Scyrax saw his face and laughed.
"It's a high price Mariullus," he chortled, "but a pretty little virgin like you could make it on a good day. You'll just have to try hard and hope there's a rich buyer who fancies golden boys," and he laughed again.
Maccius rested the point of his dagger against Marius's chest just below his left nipple.
"Do let me have him Scyrax.... Please I would like so much to make the blood flow and to hear him scream," he pleaded.
Marius felt the sharp blade cold against his skin. He stared down terrified into the youth's black eyes hard and glittering and mad. He saw a small fleck of saliva form at the corner of Maccius's painted lips, a scarlet slash in his pallid face, and begin to trickle down his chin. The boy whimpered in terror.
Scyrax gestured. A slim metal ring with a light chain attached was snapped tight about Marius's wrist. Maccius's wild laughter rang shrilly out behind him as he was led from the room by a sturdy groom.
As they were crossing the great entrance hall with it's elaborate mosaics and brilliantly painted walls Sullis darted out from behind a pillar. The child must have been hiding there all morning hoping to catch a last glimpse of his friend. He ran out and flung his arms tight around Marius's neck. Marius looked down into the younger boy's face. Sullis's cheeks were wet with tears and his lips trembled. Marius instinctively bent his head and kissed the other boy hard on the mouth.
The groom turning to see what had checked their progress across the hall laughed at the sight of the two naked boys embracing.
"You're certainly ready for market young one," he remarked jerking on the chain fastened to Marius's wrist. "Come on now, you'll give your new master whoever he is value for money I'm sure."
Alseus, the big Negro porter, stepped forward also grinning. He wrenched the two boys apart and sent Sullis spinning across the floor to collapse in a heap by one wall. Nothing further would have happened to Sullis then but as luck would have it Felix choose this moment to enter the hall. The eunuch taking in at a glance what had happened drew out his metal tipped strap and advanced on the boy whose bottom, as he tried to scramble to his feet, offered a very attractive target. Soon the hall was echoing with the crack of leather and the squeals of a child in distress.
Marius checked again but the groom pulled firmly on his chain and he was led from the house, the unmistakable sounds of a young boy under correction ringing in his ears.
Then those sounds of juvenile misery were drowned by the din of the Roman street. Men shouted and cursed, carts rumbled noisily by. Marius had experienced this before but long weeks spent locked up in Crastinus's mansion had made him unprepared for the noise, the smells and the sights that now assaulted his senses. The excitement of being out in the teeming crowds drove all thought of Sullis's sufferings from his mind.
His excitement was heightened by the fact that he was himself a subject of interest and admiration. The last time he had been out on the streets of the capital no one had taken any notice of him. He had been just a filthy half starved slave brat, no different from many hundred of others. Now though he had been washed and groomed with as much care as if he was a thoroughbred horse, his hair, his skin glistened with health. He was a thing of beauty. Men turned to look at the naked honey skinned boy with the dusty gold hair. They smiled at the sight of his slim young legs, his deeply dimpled bottom and his hard little prick that wobbled erect as he trotted along behind his keeper. A few called out words of admiration or offers of money to the groom if he would only let them enjoy the boy. Some even tried to touch him but the groom was big and fierce, specially chosen for his task, and they fell back when he turned on them.
Indeed the chain about Marius's wrist was not so much to prevent him running away, for where would he run to, but to prevent his being stolen.
The place where slaves were bought and sold was set within the confines of the emporium, that great mart where every manner of goods could be traded from pretty boys to delight their purchasers with their beauty to wild animals to entertain the crowds with their ferocity. It was not one single market but a number of separate ones competing between each other and to an extent specialising in different categories of human merchandise.
The one to which Marius was destined dealt only with the choicest of young stock, girls and boys. It was simply an open sided paved area, from the sun by a large tarpaulin, at one end of which was a raised platform with a table to one side of it and a small solid wooden block in the centre.
When Marius and the groom arrived the auctioneer and his assistants were engaged in lotting the items to be offered for sale that day. A queue of sellers with their young merchandise had formed. Marius and the groom joined the tail of this. They shuffled slowly forward as one by one the children were submitted to the auctioneer for inspection. He worked quickly and decisively. Those that were clothed he would strip, a quick examination, a few terse questions on age, experience, skills and so on, addressed not to the child but to the seller, an enquiry as to the reserved price if any and the boy and girl was led away by one of his assistants, a metal tag on a leather thong hanging about it's neck giving it's lot number.
Not all went smoothly. Sometimes there would be an argument. A seller would demand a higher reserve price than the auctioneer considered reasonable or would contend for a different lot number than he was prepared to concede. Much depended on the lot number. A brat brought to the block before the market got fully underway or after it had passed it's peak might not sell at the best price. When that happened the seller would shout and rage, the auctioneer would drawl in his mannered and supercilious accent while the waiting crowd muttered and jostled impatient at the delay.
On another occasion a poor man selling one of his sons to pay his debts broke down, hanging on to the boy and weeping. That time the auctioneer lost his temper and berated the wretched man, telling him that it was his own fault that he had to sell the brat and that he had no right to stop honest men earning their living. The boy was led away, his shoulders stiff, trying to stop himself breaking down and adding to his father's unhappiness.
At last Marius and the groom reached the front of the queue.
"Not a bad looking lad," the auctioneer remarked putting his head on one side and casting a connoisseurs eye over the naked boy.
"Name of seller, name and age of boy, any abilities or skills," he drawled running his hands over Marius's body.
"He comes from the house of Scyrax, he is called Mariullus, he is eleven year old and he is a virgin Sir," the groom said respectfully.
"Eleven years old and a virgin and a good looker too. We don't get many of them here. I'd better have a look."
"Turn round boy and put your feet apart."
Marius felt one of the auctioneers hands on the back of his neck pushing his head forward. Then his hands moved down to his bottom prying him open.
"Yes. Well I should have known Scyrax would not try to sell counterfeit goods. What does he propose as a reserve price."
"Fifty sesterces Sir."
"Fifty! That's a high price but then he is a pretty piece of boy's flesh. Very well Lot number eight."
A leather thong from which hung a metal tag bearing the number VIII was hung round Marius's neck. One of the auctioneers assistants took him to sit among a crowd of naked children huddled at the base of the platform.
Over the next few hours nothing very much happened except an increasing number of boys and girls of various ages and colours arrived and were added to the merchandise on offer. There was a certain amount of whispering among the children kept within bounds by a couple of large men carrying heavy whips who strolled among them keeping order not with the lash but with raps across the head with the handles of the whips. This method had the advantage of hurting but not marking the merchandise.
Then a sudden and complete hush fell as the first of the prospective purchasers arrived. The preliminary viewing had begun. Men moved among the crowd of children making their selections. Boys and girls were pulled to their feet and the most intimate recesses of their bodies brutally explored. Any reluctance or hesitation attracted the attention of one of the assistants and was quickly overcome with a blow and a curse.
Over the next hour or so Marius was the subject of a good deal of attention. He stood still patiently submitting to a series of the most intense and detailed examinations. No part of his body was exempt from intrusion. Some man laughed and talked among themselves as they fingered and prodded his body. Some actually spoke to him, asking a terse question or making a rough comment or coarse joke as they handled him. At first Marius felt frightened but his fear was quickly banished by the excitement of being fondled.
At last the auctioneer stepped up onto the platform and rapped on the table with his gavel. His assistants hustled the boys and girls who were to be sold to one side forcing them to sit or squat on the ground. The men formed a wide semicircle facing him.
"Well gentleman, we may as well begin. We have a wide selection of the highest quality livestock for sale today. It is my policy to collect for your enjoyment the choicest young slaves available in the whole Empire. This sale is for the discerning connoisseur and the goods on offer reflect this. So let us not waste time. Lot number 1."
A trembling rather skinny eight year old boy was dragged from the huddled crowd of naked brats. He stood uncertainly at the foot of the platform. The contrast between the appearance of this frightened miserable child and the boasts of the auctioneer as to the quality of the stock for sale led to roars of laughter and raucous shouted comments from the crowd. The boy began to cry.
"You may laugh Gentlemen," the auctioneer said raising his voice over the noise of the crowd, "but I tell you there is quality in that slut for a man with patience to fatten him up a bit."
"Make him show himself off one of you."
One of the assistants cracked his whip at the boy catching him on the side of the thigh with it's tip. The brat squealed and began to move unsteadily round the edge of the semicircle formed by the crowd tears streaming down his face.
"Get your hands down by our sides," the assistant screamed at him reinforcing his order with a further flick of the whip, "let the gentlemen see what they are paying for."
"Not that there's much to see," the auctioneer remarked as the men hooted and jeered.
The poor little brute was beside himself with terror. It took another cut of the whip to get him up on the platform and a further one onto the block itself..
"Well I can see this particular item does not meet with your enthusiastic approval," the Auctioneer continued near laughter himself, "so I will start the bidding at a low price. Who will offer me five denarius. Thank you six. Six it is ... any improvement on six......"
Eventually the boy was sold for eight denarius to a hard faced man dressed in the coarse clothes of a fisherman.
"Well Grimus," the auctioneer remarked as the deal was concluded, "I hope he lasts longer than most of the ones you buy from me."
The auctioneer did not sound at all distressed by the low price the first lot had made. Indeed he might not stand to make much commission from that particular sale but it had served it's main purpose. All the slave brats now knew the procedure they had to follow and the consequences of their failing to do so.
Following lots were of considerably better quality and achieved better prices. Soon lot number six, a handsome dusky lad was on the block and the bidding had reached twenty sesterces and was rising strongly. Marius could see that lot number seven, a pretty dark skinned girl of about fourteen year was being held ready by an assistant to take her place in the ring. The man held her one hand fondling one of her small firm breast the other rubbing her crutch. The girl's eyes were glazed with lust as she wriggled her bottom against the man.
Lot six went for forty sesterces and the girl was pushed out into the wring. She walked swinging her hips her pert little breasts pushed proudly forward. Marius was pulled to his feet and brought to the edge of the ring ready to take his turn. The assistant held Marius tight against his body one hand gently squeezing one of the boy's nipples the other toying with his already hard prick.
The bidding for the girl was brisk. Her price raced up to fifty and then more slowly climbed to seventy- five where it stuck. Then it was Marius's turn.
The assistant pushed him out into the ring sending him on his way with a smart smack on his rump. Blood roared in Marius's ears as he moved forward careful to keep his hands away from the front of his body. The men were a blur of white faces and coloured clothes as he moved slowly round the edge of the semicircle.
In his confusion he only heard disjointed phrases from the auctioneers address.
"A beautiful boy...... .eleven years old but still a virgin.... ripe as a peach ... ready for the plucking as you can see ....... round dimpled bottom.... still bears the mark of the cane ... A boy with a bit of spirit in him ..... Like riding and breaking a young colt."
He completed his circuit and mounted the platform. The bids came quickly ten twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty - at least now he was safe from being given to Maccius to play with - sixty five. The bids were beginning to slow but Marius stood in a daze the sounds of the bids the chant of the auctioneer, the shouts of the men a confused and raucous babble.
Suddenly he was brought back to earth by a stinging blow on his thigh.
"I said," the auctioneer grated, "put your hands on your head and turn round and show the gentlemen that sweet little bottom of yours. Now do it."
Marius saw that one of the men had lifted his whip to strike again. Quickly he obeyed. As he turned he gave his bottom a little wriggle showing that, like all boys, he had a bit of the slut in him. The men excited by this and by the sound and sight of the lash tip snapping against Marius's bare thigh began to bid again and continued to do so until his price reached ninety five sesterces.
Marius was taken from the platform to his new master. The boy smiled shyly at the man but got no response. A small gesture of the man's hand indicated that Marius was to kneel at his feet. His new master might not be very friendly but Marius could see that he at least fulfilled one of his dreams. He was clearly very rich. He was wearing a rich dark blue tunic embroidered with silver and gold thread. Gold rings glittered on his fingers and a heavy gold chain hung about his neck. Behind him loomed his slave, a gigantic long haired German.
His wealth was confirmed by his buying two further boys before the end of the auction; a flaxen haired lad with a peaches and cream complexion from the most Northerly limits of the Empire and another even more exotic creature, an olive skinned boy with almond eyes and straight jet black hair.
The man watched as his German slave fastened iron collars joined by short lengths of chain about the boys' necks. (Such chains were quite common in the Roman empire. A good example can be seen in the archaeological galleries of the National Museum of Wales in Cardiff although that chain incorporates five rather than three collars.)
Outside the Emporium the man mounted a horse and clattered off leaving the German in charge of the boys. The German slipped a cord round the collar of the lead boy. Holding this he set off after his master at a sharp pace The boys had to trot quickly after him to keep up. Marius at the back of the coffle found this was not easy. Move too quickly and he banged into the back of the boy in front of him. Move too slowly and he received a painful jerk on his collar. When eventually he had mastered this he found he could not see all that much any way, beyond the back of the head, the neck and the bare shoulders of the boy in front of him. He saw enough however to realise that they were in a prosperous part of the city. The streets were wide and uncrowded with large well spaced villas.
They passed through the Porta Appia and were in the open country. A moment later they turned off the main road and shortly afterwards came to heavy double gates set in a high stone wall. Beyond these stood a magnificent villa. A broad flight of marble steps led up to it's massive portico. Half way up these steps stood a statue of an eagle many times life size it's beak clamped about the neck of a naked boy whose body was partly shrouded by the birds great wings. On the plinth on which this statue stood was engraved in gold letters the words "The House Of Ganymede." With a feeling of despair Marius realised he had not been bought by a millionaire senator not even by a rich knight . He was the property of the owner of a boy's brothel.