Zelamir

A Roman Holiday

Chapters 9-14

Chapter 8

Bestia sat on the flagstones his legs bent and slightly parted holding the blood stained rag against the soreness of his crutch. People passed through the yard but no one took any notice of the naked young slave boy. The sun blazed down. Although the side of the yard where Bestia was shackled was in deep shadow it was hot and airless. Soon his head fell forward and he dozed.

He woke to found Corax standing over him prodding him with his foot. Fear flared in the boy's eyes. He tried to move away from his tormentor only to be brought up short by the chain around his ankle. Corax laughed.

"Vacca, Vacca, come here woman and bring the key for our sleeping beauty. I want to see what sort of job you have made of him."

"Stop your shouting Corax," Vacca replied appearing from the depths of the kitchen. "The poor child's bottom and prick will not heal any sooner for it; nor the bruises on his chest fade either. If you could learn patience and gentleness it would be something indeed but then you would not be Corax but some other creature altogether. A much nicer creature too."

Grumbling she knelt down at Bestia's feet and unlocked the shackle about his ankle. Taking the boy one arm she helped him to his feet.

"There he is Corax," she continued patting Bestia encouragingly on the rump with the palm of her hand. "I've done the best I could with him. It's you who did the damage I had to repair and insisted that his prick be cut and don't you forget it. Brave as a soldier he was while I was doing it too. Hardly a cry or tear."

"I've known you a long time Vacca but I've never known you to be quiet," Corax grated.

He leant forward and taking hold of Bestia's wrists pulling his hands away from his crutch. Surprisingly gently he took the boy's small prick between his finger and thumb and rolled it about.

"It's healed well," he said.

He ran his thumb down the flaccid member. Bestia whimpered and pulled away as he touched the raw flesh where the foreskin had been severed.

"Still sore is it boy?" Corax asked speaking to Bestia directly for the first time since he had returned to the inn. "Well that will pass and with you cut you'll be a much cleaner and sweeter smelling little whore when I need you."

Corax released Bestia's prick and walked round behind the boy. He put the flat of his hand on the back of the boy's head and pushed forcing him to bend forward. Vacca stepped forward and took hold of Bestia by the shoulders.

"Legs apart boy and push your bum out," Corax ordered.

Corax slipped his hand between the boys legs and fondled his balls. He ran his thumb nail along the short length of flesh that divided Bestia's balls from his anus until it reached the edge of the plug that Vacca had inserted in the boy. His fingers caressed the sensitive area at the top of the boy's legs his nails gently scratched the tender skin. Bestai aroused by these attentions lifted his bottom higher. The boys breath came in short gasps as he panted in his rising excitement.

Corax nodded to Vacca over the boy's bent back. The woman tightened her grip on the boy's shoulders. Corax steadied Bestia with his left hand flat against the small of his back. With a single sharp wrench of his right hand he jerked the plug from the boy's bottom.

Bestia howled as the pain ripped through him. He bucked and fought against Vacca's restraining hands but the woman's grip held firm. Then he was still again, bent over, his bare bottom raised, whimpering quietly.

A dark skinned, curly haired, boy wearing only a tiny strip of cloth between his legs sidled out from the kitchen grinning broadly attracted by the noise.

Corax lifted the plug and inspected it while his free hand gently stroked the lads quivering bum. "Very good," he said quietly. "No fresh blood…excellent."

"You'll give that boy a rest tonight Corax if you've any sense," Vacca said taking the plug from the man. "You've hurt him enough for now and he'll be all the livelier for a rest. And don't you go trying to ride that little lad of your son's either. He's hardly more than a baby that one and you'd split his bum open like a ripe melon."

Corax laughed. Vacca seemed to be able to take liberties with him that no other person dared.

"Pisclus there is my son's boy and it's Marcus who will be enjoying his bottom tonight. As for this boy," he said landing a light smack on Bestia's upturned rump, "well, we'll have to see."

"No, give the lad a rest. I tell you what Corax. I know you of old for a randy old goat. You have Ceres here tonight but you promise me that you grease his bum up well before you fuck him."

"Miss," the African boy cried in alarm, the grin disappearing from his face in an instant.

"Yes you little tyke," Vacca said reaching back and grabbing him by an ear which she twisted viciously extracting further squeals of protest as she hauled him forward to show Corax. "It'll teach you to stick to your work and not to go creeping off sticking your nose into things that don't concern you."

"Look at him Corax. The curse of my life. The laziest greediest brat in my kitchen - but a sturdy young animal. You ride him as hard as you like and he'll take it I'm sure."

"And stop snivelling you miserable little tart," she said turning her attention back to the boy. "It's not the first time you've had a man's cock up your arse I know and the other boys will sleep sounder and be fresher for work without you in the loft with them."

Corax looked the boy up and down slowly and then nodded.

"I'll give the whore a try," he said coldly

"And remember grease his bottom and your son's boy as well," Vacca added. "I know your son's weapon won't compare with yours but he still looks like a chip off the old block to me."

"Now Ceres," she said releasing the black boy's ear. "Go and fetch a pot of goose grease. "You know where it's kept it well enough. Quick about it."

The boy ran off rubbing his sore ear.

As Pisclus followed Marcus up the stairs to their rooms he thought about what the evening would bring. He had seen the state of Bestia's bottom after Corax had fucked him, the cleft of his bum and the inside of his thighs stained with dried semen and blood. He had noticed how painfully the boy had walked the next morning, his legs splayed to minimise the pain. Now it was his turn. Corax's cock was much bigger than Marcus's. He had seen that in the baths. But then he was a good two years younger and a good deal smaller than Bestia. No doubt being fucked by Marcus would not hurt as much as having it done by his father but it would still hurt. There was nothing he could do about it though. If Marcus wanted to fuck him he would and that was that. If he tried to resist it would make no difference. He would just be thrashed and then fucked and with a bottom sore from the cane it would hurt all the more.

Not that he wanted to resist Marcus. Marcus had saved his life and was all the things that he admired. Strong, resolute, confident and brave; Pisclus worshipped the older boy as a savage worships a tribal God, powerful, capricious, sometimes cruel, but his only protector in a hostile world. Pisclus was happy to be the older boy's slave. He loved Marcus even though he had hurt him in the past and he knew in his heart would do so again in the future.

Marcus's emotions as he watched Pisclus moving about the room preparing it with the two other slave boys for their Masters' supper were almost the mirror image of the younger boy's. The lad's slim body ,thin arms and the occasional glimpses that he caught of the smooth curves of his tender little rump as he bent to move a chair or set a plate both aroused him and filled him with pity. The thought of having the boy naked and in his power excited him almost to fever pitch. Should he, he wondered, strip the boy himself, ripping the thin tunic which was his only covering brutally from his shoulders? Or would it be better to lean back in his chair and order the boy to strip? To watch the frightened child lift the tunic over his head and then to see him standing there naked, trembling with fear, utterly vulnerable. Certainly he should not hurry things. The boy must be given time to appreciate his own helplessness and he must have time himself to enjoy the lads terror.

He noticed how the bruises left by the last beating he had given the boy had faded. He glanced at the cane that lay beside him on the table. He smiled to himself. He felt sure he would find occasion to score fresh marks across the smooth curve of the boy's bottom before the end of the night.

Dusk was beginning to fall before the meal was over. Corax ordered the serving girl to light the lamps and then dismissed her. Bestia, nominated for this duty because his bottom was to be spared for that night, appeared with the chamber pot. He knelt before Corax and Marcus . First the father then the son directed a stream of tawny liquid into the pot, held just inches away from the kneeling boys bowed head, then after shaking the few remaining drops from their pricks wiped the moisture from their fingers on the boy's fair hair.

Feeling rather full after his meal and slightly muzzy from the small amount of wine mixed with water that Corax had allowed him to accompany his dinner Marcus lounged back in his chair. Like his father he was relaxed and content and was looking forward to the rest of the evening with pleasant anticipation.

The condition of three slave boys was very different. They had had nothing to eat other than such scraps as their masters had allowed them from their plates while they were serving. They knew too that it was their bodies that were to provide the entertainment that their masters were so happily anticipating. Hungry and frightened they huddled together at the far end of the room from the table awaiting their fate. There was nothing to stop any one of them running from the room except the certainty that if one did so he would be caught savagely flogged and brought back to experience even greater horrors. They were slaves and knew that they were the property of their masters who had absolute power over them. There was no protection for them from the law and no one for them to turn to for help.

Corax took a deep draft of his wine and crooked his finger at Ceres. The boy stepped reluctantly forward the lamp light glistening on his dark skin.

"Well lets see what we've got here then," Corax said and leaning forward pulled the narrow strip of cloth tat was the boy's only covering.

Ceres, being a well trained boy made no effort to cover, himself with his hands. He just stood there his hands open by the sides of his thighs, his head slightly bent, as Corax and Marcus studied his nakedness. He was a good looking boy with, slim strong legs, a flat stomach and a well defined ribcage. There was no spare flesh on him but he looked fit and well made. Marcus saw that around the base of his cock and his hairless scrotum was fastened a band of dully gleaming metal. He lent forward to examine it closer.

"What's that Father?" he asked pointing.

"That?" Corax said . "Oh a cock ring. Why have you got that on you boy?" he asked Ceres.

"Sir I…I started to go stiff and things at all sort of times and Miss said I was distracting the customers from their food when I was serving at table and she didn't want me coming over the food in the kitchen so she put it on me to try to slow me down Sir."

"And did it work?" Corax asked amused.

"Some times Sir,"

Corax laughed.

Marcus lent forward to take a closer look at the ring. He reached out and touched it. Taking hold of it he gave it a sharp jerk. Ceres gasped and grabbed at his crutch.

"Get your hands back down at your sides boy," Corax barked. "Who told you to move." He landed a stinging slap with the flat of his hand on the side of the boys bare thigh.

"How did they get it on him Father?" Marcus asked. "It's really tight I don't see how they did it."

"They'd have put his cock in it first," Corax explained and then they would have forced one ball after the other through it."

"It must have hurt," Marcus said appreciatively, "but it looks good."

"Yes, well we've got other things to do apart from discussing cock rings all night."

Corax hitched his tunic clear of his thighs and pointed down at them. Obediently Ceres stretched himself out over his knees and spread his legs so that his bare rump was open and ready to the man's hand.

Marcus," Corax said, "I am going to grease this brats bottom and you can watch so that you will know how to do it with your boy."

Corax rested his hand on the curve of Ceres bottom and began gently to stroke it.

"The first thing to do is to get the boy as relaxed as you can. You want to get the grease all round his hole and also right into him."

"You know," he continued as he slowly caressed the lad's bum, "in a way this little tyke is the basis on which our great Empire has been built. If it was not for Ceres and Pisclus and Bestia and millions of other slave boys like them over the centuries there would be no empire. It's their labour that has tilled the fields, worked the mines, powered the galleys and done all the other tasks that have allowed our legions to conquer the known world and which allows the Senators at Rome, and you and I if we wished, to live at leisure. And it is the continuing need for their labour that means our legions must continue to conquer so that the slave markets of the empire can be supplied with new merchandise. Through the great slave markets a million… a million and a half perhaps…. slaves flow each year. That supply must be maintained or the Empire will cease to function."

"And Marcus not only must we ensure that there is a constant supply of new slaves we must also make sure that the slaves we already have are kept down and disciplined. It is the duty of every Roman citizen to see that the slightest sign on rebellion or insubordination is ruthlessly suppressed. Slavery is based on fear and the slaves must be made to fear us. Remember that."

"Yes Father," Marcus said, who had pulled Pisclus onto his knees and had been amusing himself playing with the younger boys little prick and balls. Like all young people when their parents start pontificating he had very shortly ceased to pay attention.

"Do you think Father," he continued after a pause to make sure his father had stopped talking, "I could put a cock ring on Pisclus? I think it would look really nice."

He felt Pisclus shift uneasily on his lap and he bent and kissed the boy at the base of his neck at the same time squeezing one of the child's tiny balls between his finger and thumb. Pisclus gave a little moan and sat quite still.

"A cock ring," Corax snapped irritated and then laughed.

"Ah well on the evidence of your behaviour today you don't need any lessons in treating slaves harshly. Yes I can't see why not. A good idea. I expect Vacca will have one she can let us have. It'll have to be a small one though he's so small. We'll do it tomorrow we don't want to disturb her now."

"Will he scream do you think? Marcus asked eagerly. He loved Pisclus in his way but it was a cruel way.

"Sure to. Now dump that boy on the floor for the time being and come over here and watch."

"Get a good lump of grease on the tip of your fingers work it along the cleft of his bum all round his hole. Look his hole's open at the moment but as soon as you touch it it closes. The boy can't help that the anus is a very delicate part of his body. Get some more grease on your finger and this time push firmly but gently….See it's opened to let you in. Now work it well in."

"You'll find it more difficult with Pisclus because this will be his first time while Ceres here has had a few men up his bum. My finger will slip in easily. Look first knuckle….second knuckle.. right in …… and a second finger…. and a third I expect …Yes."

"All right," Corax continued withdrawing his fingers, "now you try."

"Push firmly..there you are he's letting you in… there's a ring of muscle get past that…..feel how hot he is and how he's closing tight about your finger… He likes it doesn't he?…You can feel that can't you?…..Drawing you in….sort of riding your finger….Oh well despite his cock ring too….still at his age he'll be desperate for a bit of cock again within a minute or two. Down you get boy you're ready now"

"Your fingers dirty? Well it would be wouldn't it considering where it's been. Give it to the boy to lick clean. It's his filth."

"Now kneel down boy and grease my cock for me. That's right the more thoroughly you do it the easier things will be for you."

"Done?"

"Now Marcus it's your turn let's see you prepare your boy."

This proved to be a far from easy task. Pisclus despite being desperate to please Marcus was so frightened by the time that he had been made to strip and stretch himself over his master's knees that he was frozen in panic. No amount of stroking or teasing or probing would relax him. For all Marcus's coaxing and threatening he remained lying face down across his knees, his body rigid, his bottom clenched tight shut.

It was Corax that solved the problem by suggesting that they laid Pisclus on his back on the floor. He then had Marcus take the boy by his ankles and push his legs back over his head until his knees were touching the floor on either side of his head forcing his bottom open. Marcus noticed that the boy's eyes had rolled back in his head leaving only the whites visible. Ceres was ordered to hold Pisclus's ankles in pace while Marcus applied the grease.

Resistance intentional or otherwise was now all but impossible. The only obstacle was the tightness of Pisclus's previously unplumbed body. Marcus's finger parted the lips of the boy's anus and probed his bum the sphincter held for a moment but for a moment only. Marcus withdrew his finger and took aim. The well greased tip entered the boy's body easily enough but then there was a moment when it seemed that full entry was still going to be denied. Marcus would have none of it. He thrust forward with all his strength and weight hammering his cock into the boy. The pain jerked Pisclus out of his trance. He screamed shrilly. Marcus grasped the boy by his waist and as he thrust forward hauled the boy back against his probing tool. Slowly his member penetrated deeper into the lad. Pisclus' screams mingled with Marcus pants and grunts of effort as he exerted all his strength. At last there was the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as, his prick finally sheathed to the hilt in the boy, his heaving pelvis came into contact with Pisclus ravaged bum. The boy's screaming fell away to a soft moaning. From where he knelt labouring between the child's legs Marcus could see his face was wet with tears. Then despite all the pain Pisclus's body began to respond to Marcus's thrusting. Marcus felt his blood surge and he came deep in the other boy's guts. He lent forward and kissed Pisclus on the lips tasting the younger boys tears.

Corax patted Marcus on his upraised bottom.

"Well done," he said, "now I am going to do the same to Ceres."

Turning he urged the naked black boy from the room with a series of heavy slaps on his bare bum.

Pisclus opened his mouth to accept Marcus's kiss and wound his arms tight round his masters shoulders.

"He believes," Marcus thought, "that I've finished with him for the night." He decided that he would disabuse the boy of this delusion.

He ran his hand up Pisclus's ribcage until he found a hard little nipple. He took it between his finger and thumb. Very deliberately he squeezed and twisted. Pisclus, his mouth filled by the older boy's tongue, sounded a small note of protest deep in his throat that Marcus felt rather than heard.

Chapter 9

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 shit 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 shit. 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 cock 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 cock."

"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 cock 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 cock 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 cock 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 cock 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 cock 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."

Chapter 10

"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 cock 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.

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 cocks, 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 cock 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 cock 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 cock, 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 fucked 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 cock 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 fucking 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 cock 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 cock 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 sexed 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 cock 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 fuck 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 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 shit 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 cock 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.

Chapter 11

Half awake he reached out to pull Pisclus to him. He felt a momentary stab of anger when his hand failed to make contact with the boy's naked body. Then the events of the past night came flooding back to him.

He sat up on his couch and looked around. The little blond boy had crawled into a corner of the room. Probably, he thought grimly, trying to get as far away from me as he could. Exhaustion had overcome terror and the child, curled into a ball on the bare floor boards, slept.

Marcus swung his legs to the floor and padded over to where the boy lay. He prodded the sleeping child sharply in the ribs with his bare foot. The boy looked up at Marcus standing over him his cock erect and swollen. Fear flared in his eyes. He began to whimper.

Marcus bent over twisting his left hand in the boys hair and forcing his head back. He stared down into his face enjoying his terror. He was a pretty little fellow even with a black eye and a heavy bruise on one side of his face distorting the otherwise attractive pout of his lips. Marcus thought that perhaps he had been a little rough the previous night but then he told himself the boy's fair skin bruised very easily.

"Sir. Please Sir," the boy whined almost incoherent with fear.

Impatiently Marcus hauled the sobbing child to his feet by his hair and with a savage jerk sent him stumbling across the room towards the couch.

The boy knocked into the couch lost his balance and finished up, as Marcus had intended sprawled across it his feet on the floor his arse stuck up in the air.

Marcus strode over and landed a hard blow with the side of his hand along the cleft of the boy's bottom. The child's whimpering rose to a howl of misery and despair as Marcus's well aimed blow rekindled the soreness in his bottom.

"Get your bum up in the air tart," Marcus commanded roughly. "Come on, you know what to do from last night, legs apart and use your hands to open up your backside." He reinforced his commands with another chopping blow at the junction of the boy's legs.

Marcus saw that the boy's bottom was raw and soiled from the fun he had already had with him. In addition Ceres had scored a series of crimson ridges across the his bottom with the cane to which Marcus had added a good few bruises on his own account later.

Marcus felt nothing but contempt for the terrified little slave. Bent over the couch, pushing his bum up into the air and holding it open for his enjoyment to Marcus he had become simply a thing, an object to be exploited for his own amusement.

Marcus licked his thumb and jabbed it viciously into the boy who squealed like a stuck pig. He twisted his thumb inside the child and then jerked it out. There was a sharp plop as he drew it free from the boy's arse.

He spat on the palm of his hand and spread saliva over his prick. Kneeling behind the boy he saw the lad's body tense as he awaited the inevitable assault. The boy's fingers held the lips of his anus open to receive Marcus's cock. He shivered as Marcus inserted the tip of his prick. Marcus paused and then thrust forward. The boy screamed shrilly. Marcus drew back and then thrust forward again, hammering his shaft into the boy. He felt the boy's heat close around him and the child's hips and body began to move as though he was experiencing an orgasm. Marcus slipped his hand around the boy's body and took his tiny cock in his hand. It was moving convulsively but there was no flood of warm dampness. He felt his own blood surge and he came deep inside the boy.

He was aware vaguely of his father shouting.

He pulled back from the boy and called out over the lad's howls

"Sorry Father what did you say?"

"I said shut that little runt up. I'm trying to get some sleep."

"Oh all right Father. Sorry."

Marcus was finished with the boy anyway. He caught hold of him by one arm just above the elbow. He dragged him to the door and putting one foot against the brat's bare rump sent him tumbling down the stair case. He crossed to the window. The boy finished in the yard on his hands and knees. He stayed there for a minute or two and then got painfully to his feet. Supporting himself against the wall he made his way unsteadily to the kitchen door.

Marcus returned to his couch. He felt the boy's bruises would have a good effect on the other slaves increasing the respect in which they held their betters. It did not occur to him to doubt that he fell within that latter category.

Marcus sat opposite his father idly dabbing a hunk of wheaten bread in the rich cream sauce that had accompanied the red mullet that had been served him for breakfast. There was quite a lot of the mullet left and he pulled a piece of it's flesh from the bone and placed it in his mouth. It was really very good.

He was aware of Bestia watching him. No doubt he expected to supplement his own very meagre rations with scraps from his master's table. Marcus found the boy's hungry gaze increased his own enjoyment of the food. Not that, he thought eyeing the lad, he looked too bad. A good deal better than he had expected really. He looked quite well fed and there were very few marks on him that showed. Corax had roughed the lad up a bit when they had returned to the rooms the previous night but his tunic, brief though it was hid the bruises on his ribcage where most of the punches had been aimed.

Marcus felt Bestia had got off very lightly. Much more lightly then he deserved. He resolved to eat as much of his breakfast as he could so as to deny the half starved brat his scraps.

Then he caught sight of the handle of his chamber pot showing beneath the couch. An idea occurred to him and he smiled. He pushed his chair back and half turned away from the table.

"Bring me the pot boy," he commanded.

Obediently Bestia hurried over to Marcus and dropping to his knees offered pot to him. It was clear from the amber fluid lapping about inside it that it had already been used. Very deliberately Marcus picked up his half empty plate and scraped it's contents into the pot. He gathered up all the crusts that lay about his place on the table and dropped them one by one into the mess of food and urine. Then he stood up and directed a stream of pee into the pot. He shook the final drips of moisture from the end of his prick and wiped his hands on Bestia's hair. He sat back on his chair and putting a hand under the boy's chin tipped his head back. He looked down into the lad's horrified face and laughed.

"What an excellent idea," Corax chuckled. "Bring that thing here boy."

Laughing heartily he tipped the remains of his breakfast into the pot. Bestia unable to hide his disappointment began to cry. Corax and Marcus found the boy's distress highly amusing.

"Do you think the tyke is hungry father?" Marcus asked through his laughter.

"I should hope so," Corax laughed back. A well fed slave is a spoilt slave."

"Well do you think I should give him something extra to eat? I've got something for him here."

Marcus lifted his tunic to reveal his cock that had once again jumped to attention, perhaps aroused by the sight of Bestia's misery.

"An excellent idea," Corax chortled. "Get over there you idle lump of dog's turd and don't spill any down your chin. I detest waste."

Corax continued to chuckle enjoying his son's and his own wit while Bestia knelt between Marcus's legs using tongue and lips to pleasure his tormentor.

After Bestia's task had been completed and his chin examined to see that he had not allowed a single drop of semen to escape from his mouth Marcus turned again to his father.

"I wonder if it would be all right for me to go across and see how that little tart of mine is?" He asked.

"Certainly my boy," Corax rejoined. "I'll come over with you. You'll probably need a bit of support dealing with that Vacca woman. She may even claim you were over rough with that blond tyke she lent you. She's too soft with her boys, always has been."

As they were leaving the room Corax realised that Bestia was following them.

"Where do you think you're going boy?" he asked. "You stay here and get the place cleaned."

"What was he doing father?" Marcus asked from behind him.

"Trying to slide over after us to see how his little whore friend is no doubt."

"He can't really think he will be allowed off work just to see how another useless little runt is," Marcus exclaimed and laughed at the idea.

"He was just trying it on. He won't again for a bit."

Corax stepped up to Bestia and punched him hard on the side of the head. The boy staggered and fell to the floor. Corax spun on his heel and walked from the room without a glance behind him.

After a minute or two Bestia pulled himself to his feet and after knuckling the tears from his eyes busied himself getting the room into order. He did not want another beating when Corax returned.

They found Pisclus lying on his belly on Vacca's bed. The women had drawn the bedclothes back in order to tend his torn body. Now she was standing by a chest putting various jars away in her medicine cabinet. Ceres knelt to one side of the bed, his only clothing a scanty slip of white cloth between his legs, feeding Pisclus spoonfuls of porridge from a small earthenware bowl.

Vacca turned to face them as they entered the room.

"Well," she said, "come to see how your property is this morning? Not too bad really. No infection although he's still very sore."

"Now then boy open your legs and let your Master see what a good little boy you are and how quick your bottom is healing. Come on now quickly. He's taken the trouble to come over here don't you keep him waiting." She reinforced her order by slapping Pisclus lightly on his bare bum.

"There you are you see," she gently parted the boy's buttocks, "coming along nicely."

Marcus lent forward. He could see the cat gut stitches holding together the edges of the torn flesh on either side of the child's hole. It was clear that Vacca had cleaned the area carefully, the white skin and the pink lipped anus were spotless However the edge of the wounds and the skin where it had been stitched was an angry red. Marcus reached out and gently touched the wound. Pisclus caught his breath and moved slightly.

"You can see it is still a bit painful," Vacca remarked as she straightened herself. Pisclus felt her hands move from his bottom but remained lying with his legs parted quietly eating the porridge that Ceres spooned into his mouth.

"Which do you think has the prettier bottom Marcus," she continued lightly, "your little lad here or the child I lent you last night."

"Oh Pisclus," Marcus said quickly and then fearful he might have caused offence added. "Your boy had a nice bum but it was softer than Pisclus's and when you smacked it was almost like smacking a jelly the way it quivered. Pisclus's is much firmer. Look." He gave Pisclus's rump a sharp slap with his hand to illustrate this point. It was true, the firm flesh only moved slightly under the impact of his palm. Pisclus took the blow and said nothing. Although he was the subject of conversation he knew he could have no part in it. He just lay there naked, face down, legs apart quietly eating his porridge, listening to his superiors discussing his bum. If he felt a little embarrassed he was also very pleased that his master found it so attractive.

"And your boy's bottom was rounder. Pisclus's has two little indents on each side.".

Corax laughed. "Your boy was so young," he said to Vacca, "he still had a bit of puppy fat on him. His bottom lacked the dimples of young Pisclus's. I expect he'll get them in time. Slave boys don't keep their puppy fat for long, work and hunger will thin him down fast enough."

"I was going to ask you about that blond boy of mine," Vacca said. "The tax collectors arrive here tonight and I should lay some sort of entertainment on for them. I thought maybe Ceres fucking the blond would be one turn. A dish sort of made of dark chocolate and peaches and cream and then they could take their pick of the two boys afterwards. But to give a good show Ceres needs to be a bit bigger than Marcus and I just don't know if that is so."

"I'll tell you in a minute," Corax replied. He walked over to where Ceres was kneeling and bending over slipped his hand inside the boy's loin cloth. Ceres continued in his task of feeding Pisclus. Corax felt round for a moment and then stood upright.

"That black boy of yours is quite a bit bigger. He must spend a lot of his time fucking and not working. I'd consider having him gelded if I was you."

"I'm going to try to breed from him. I've had him lie with a couple of the maids but he hasn't taken yet. I thought there aren't many black slaves round here and if I could breed a few off him I could make some money out of it. Any way that's my plan."

"When I said the tax collectors are coming," Vacca said after a pause for reflection and looking hard at Corax, "one of then is Falco and he's left his beloved Ellena behind this time so he needs some special entertainment."

"Falco," said Corax sharply, "I don't know about entertainmant, that's your problem, but I do know he's no ordinary tax collector. He's usually only used by the government for secret or very confidential work."

"And that maybe I suspect your problem," Vacca said quietly. "I just thought you might like to be warned."

"Now that's about all the porridge gone. Take yourself and that bowl down to the kitchen Ceres and don't let me find you idling around when I come down there or it will be the worse for you."

"I am afraid I've got something special for young Pisclus now."

Vacca took a large earthenware from her medicine cabinet. Picking up a spoon she sat down on the side of the bed by Pisclus's head. She pulled the cork from the jar releasing the rank stench of rotting fish.

"What's that?" Marcus gasped stepping back.

"Fish oil," Vacca replied as she poured some into the spoon.

"Now my little baby," she cooed to Pisclus, "be a good boy now and take this from your Auntie." She pressed the spoon to Pisclus's lips.

The boy hesitated.

"You want to get better for your Master don't you little one." Pisclus nodded. "Well then come along. Show your Master how much you love him and swallow it down now."

Pisclus opened his mouth the women slipped the spoon between his lips. The boy swallowed and almost gagged. He looked up at Marcus through tear filled eyes and smiled weakly.

"And another one for your Master," Vacca said refilling the spoon with the noxious fluid.

"Whatever is it for?" Marcus asked. "Well we don't want to put too much pressure down there do we till it's healed both with things going in or coming out. Down it goes there's a good boy."

"Now I've got to go and get on with my other work. Oh by the way Corax. Pisclus here was telling me how you were planning to send him back to the country just to avoid the capitation levy."

"Any way I've put an end to that little plan of yours. I've included both Pisclus and Bestia on my return of boys to be taxed and paid their tax for you. I'll include it in your account when you leave. The tax collectors arrive tonight and they'll brand your two boys along with the rest tomorrow."

"I'm surprised at you. You can see how your boy fancies the lad and you were prepared to split them up just to save a quarter denarius . It's not like you. You have your faults and many of them but meanness didn't used to be one of them."

Vacca picked up her medicine cabinet and left the room.

Corax stood looking after her a moment his jaw moving. Then he took a deep breath

"Tell me Marcus which was the better fuck the blond or Pisclus?" Corax spoke with forced calmness.

"Pisclus again Father. The other boy was good but nowhere near as good as Pisclus…..With Pisclus once you've got your cock into him…well….it's like…it's like when I'm riding Pegasus and I get him up to a canter and then into a full gallop…. I feel that's what he's for..every bit of him …every muscle every nerve his whole body just for that purpose. .While with the other boy …well ….. it was all right…It was good but it was like the difference between riding Pegasus and any ordinary pony…doing his best but…"

Pisclus moaned loudly. He clapped both hands to the cleft of his bottom. His eyes widened in distress.

"It's that fish oil working," Corax said with a laugh. "It must be potent stuff."

"I'm sure there'll be something some where…Yes here," he said pulling a chamber pot from under the bed. "Get down on that quick."

He took Pisclus by the arm and half dragged him from the bed. The boy squatted thankfully on the pot while Corax and his son looked down at him. The boy looked up at them and smiled. He seemed well schooled, without modesty or pride.

"Father," Marcus said after glancing round to make sure no one else was in the room, "why can't we keep him as a slave? We could tell his parents that he died during the journey. Boys do and they couldn't make a fuss because that would mean letting the Imperial authorities know they ignored the banishment order and he's a really good fuck and you can see he's a true little slave brat. Can't I keep him?"

"His parents mightn't make a fuss but he could."

"If he did Father he'd get them in trouble. Anyway whose going to bother to listen to what a slave boy says."

"I have business to which I must attend," Corax replied thoughtfully. "You will also need a slave to clean that boy of yours up. Come with me to the yard and we will discuss this matter further on the way."

Chapter 12

Pisclus squatted on the pot. His insides appeared to have turned to water but now he seemed to have emptied himself and the stomach cramps had ceased. He had learnt enough over the past few days to know that he must stay where he had been put until told otherwise or face yet another beating. So he stayed there alone and naked waiting for Marcus to return.

He had heard Marcus's suggestion to his father, that they should keep him as a slave, but it had meant little to him. For some time after he had set off with the two of them he had nursed the thought that his slavery was just a charade. That the time would come when he would resume life as what he really was Gaius not only a free boy but a member of one of the oldest patrician famillies in Rome although now impoverished and in political disgrace. But as the days passed another, crueller, reality of pain, abuse and humiliation had taken hold of him.

Very quickly the idea of a not too distant release from his bondage had ceased to be an expectation and became merely a vague dream that offered him occasional comfort. Every cut of the cane across his bare rump, every sexual assault on his body, and there were many of both, made that dream of ultimate freedom seem more unrealistic until it had all but vanished from his mind. He no longer thought as a free boy but as a slave. His concerns were those of a slave, to survive and if possible, escape the lash by serving and pleasing his master. He did not even question the fate that had made him a slave and Marcus his master. That was the reality and against that reality he could not struggle. He could only accept it.

All that Marcus's words had done was to finally destroy what had already become a dream in which he had ceased to have any real belief.

There were foot steps on the stairs. Marcus came into the room. Pisclus looked up at him from where he hunkered down over the chamber pot and smiled timidly. Marcus seated himself on the bed beside his little slave.

"Filth in the pot and filth squatting on top of it," Marcus said half to himself with a contemptuous smile.

"Yes Sir," Pisclus had no false pride and fully understood and accepted his lowly position in the world.

Marcus reached out and stroked Pisclus's cheek with the back of his hand. He ran the tip of his thumb along the boy's half open lips.

"Sir, please Sir," Pisclus said and then hesitated.

"Yes boy?"

"I'm glad I'm a good fuck Sir."

"So am I boy." Marcus smiled. "You better get that sweet little bum of yours healed too because I'm not waiting for ever before I fuck you again."

"Yes Sir…I try to be a good boy Sir."

"You know what will happen to you if you're not don't you?"

"Yes Sir"

"Well tell me what"

"You'll beat me Sir."

"That's right. I'll have the skin off your bottom with the cane."

Marcus paused a moment relishing the thought. His prick had begun to harden yet again.

"Well you're going to be branded tomorrow then," he continued after a second or two. "Why do I enjoy the thought of the boy's suffering?" he asked himself.

"Yes Sir." Pisclus sounded far from happy at the prospect.

"The mark will be here," Marcus leant forward and put his finger on the left side of Pisclus's rump just below his hip. He felt the boy's flesh shrink away from his touch. "Yes there. You'll be stripped and dragged to the bench and bent over. The branding iron will be red hot. You'll feel it's heat before it ever touches your flesh. You'll try to quail away from it but you will be held firm and the glowing iron will be pressed against your unprotected rump.

"There'll be a sizzling sound like meat frying in a hot pan as the iron sears your flesh. You'll be screaming even before you feel the heat of the branding iron. A little smoke will rise as the hot iron is pressed into your bum. There'll be the sweet smoky smell of burning boy's flesh and the imperial mark will have been neatly incised into your bottom. Just there, where my finger is. It'll hurt for a long time afterwards."

Marcus's voice sounded gleeful as he described the agony awaiting the boy.

"Please Sir will you be there Sir? When they brand me Sir?"

"Of course I will," Marcus laughed heartlessly. "I wouldn't miss the fun for anything."

"I'll try and bear it Sir," Pisclus said unhappily.

"You'll have to bear it boy. You have no choice my poor little slave."

Yes Sir..I know I am your slave Sir…Please Sir I'll stay with you as your slave Sir."

"I'll decide what will be done to you boy," Marcus snapped cuffing Pisclus on the side of his head to punish him for his impertinence.

"Now here's Ceres come to clean you up."

The coloured boy came into the room carrying a bowl of steaming water and some rags. White teeth splitting his dark face in a cheerful grin. It was clear that the prospect of tending Pisclus's firm young bottom was one he regarded with enthusiasm.

He helped Pisclus to his feet. Making the younger boy stand leaning slightly forward with his legs apart he knelt on the ground behind him and began to gently sponge between his legs and along the crack of his bottom. Marcus could see from the bulge developing under the narrow strip of white cloth, that was Ceres only covering, that he was finding his work enjoyable. It was also clear that Pisclus found the touch of the damp cloth in the most intimate recesses of his body arousing. At last Ceres could prolong his task no longer. He hunkered back on his heels and looked up at Marcus.

"Well let me see if the job has done properly. Come here Pisclus and let me see. Turn round boy. Legs apart and bend forward."

He parted the boys buttocks and examined the area in between. The lad seemed spotless which was not surprising considering the thoroughness with which Ceres had washed him. Marcus, who by now was thoroughly aroused himself, was not going to allow a little thing like this to spoil the fun.

"This will not do at all," he announced firmly patting Pisclus's bottom with the flat of his hand. "Still filthy. You must do better than this Ceres."

The black boy started to shuffle forwards on his knees clearly eager to resume his intimate swabbing of the young boy's delectable rump.

"No," Marcus said sharply. "Pisclus back on the bed, face down, legs apart. Now Ceres get behind him and use your tongue to clean him up and do it properly this time."

Neither of the two boys showed the slightest reluctance in obeying these orders. In a second Pisclus was lying prone on the bed his bum slightly elevated while Ceres's agile tongue explored the cleft of his bottom.

Marcus slipped his hand under Pisclus's hips. The little fellows tiny prick was hard and throbbing. He walked round to the end of the bed. Ceres had chosen not to lie flat on the mattress behind Pisclus but to kneel between his spread legs. As a consequence his bum was stuck high up in the air as he licked between the other boy's legs. The little slip of white cloth running down the centre of his bottom seemed to exaggerate the natural the darkness of his skin that gleamed like ebony.

Marcus stood there a moment or two admiring the view, then he leaned forward and ripped away the fragment of white cloth. He ran his hands over the boys bottom enjoying the feel of the silky smoothness of his flesh. Ceres pushed his bottom higher inviting, perhaps begging, Marcus to carry his exploration further. Marcus required no invitation, indeed the idea of a slave boy inviting him to do something would have appeared to him ridiculous. He believed he had the right of entry to any slave lad who took his fancy and he had every intention of exercising that right on this occasion. He moistened his index finger and inserted it into the coloured youth's anus. There was only the slightest resistance and then the finger slid into the lad with surprising ease. For a moment Marcus explored the boy's hole feeling the heat and pulse of his young eager body. Ceres, spurred on by the probing finger, gyrated his hips while simultaneously teasing with added energy Pisclus's bottom with his tongue.

Marcus not yet fully engaged in the fun, drove his finger deeper, enjoying the spectacle of the two slave boys' ever increasing sexual excitement.. Feeling that he was about to burst he pulled out his finger. Ceres moaned in disappointment and frustration. Marcus slapped him sharply on his taughtly uplifted rump, mounted the bed behind him and taking aim pressed the tip of his pulsing cock between the lips of his anus. Ceres went wild. He worked his bottom desperately trying to catch the other boy's member and draw it into his body. Marcus deliberately withheld it a few seconds bringing Ceres's excitement and desire to fever pitch. Then he thrust forward. If fucking Pisclus was like riding a highly mettled pony, fucking Ceres was like trying to master a fiery untamed animal. Marcus, lighter and smaller than his mount, felt the full force of the older boys passion. The strong lithe young body writhed and bucked under him as he tried to sate Ceres's lust for cock. Both rider and mount were sweating when at last Marcus felt the black boy's body clench tight and shuddering about his prick and orgasm came.

Marcus lay for a moment on top of the other boy then he rolled clear and got to his feet. Pisclus he saw now lay prone on the bed his bum no longer raised to accept Ceres's questing tongue. It would appear he also had come

Ceres scrambled from the bed, gathered up the various rags and the bowl of water. He glanced nervously at Marcus and receiving a short nod of the head from him scuttled from the room.

Marcus patted his young slave on the bottom and having nothing further to do there left the room in search of his father.

"The first boys are arriving Father," Marcus said from his place by the window where he had been standing in a state of increasing excitement for the last half hour. "They've had the brazier burning for hours now and the irons must be really hot. Isn't it time I took our boys down?"

Marcus had been sent to bed early by his father on the grounds that he had been clearly overdoing things and needed a rest. His father referred particularly to the redness of his eyes and a certain pallor in the face to justify this, to Marcus, quite unjustified interference with his freedom. Corax himself had not stayed in but had gone to have supper with the tax collectors taking Bestia with him. Marcus had not only had to go to bed early, even worse he had had to go to bed by himself. As a consequence of this Marcus had woken full of energy and bubbling with excitement. Corax how ever was clearly feeling the strain after the previous night and was eating his breakfast in grumpy silence. The only time he had really laughed that morning was when his son had drawn his attention to the comical way in which Pisclus, who had been sent back to their rooms by Vacca, walked. "As if," as Marcus put it "the tart had a marrow up his bottom." Marcus had made quite a bit of fun of Pisclus after that but without doing more than winning a dry smile from his father.

Bestai and Pisclus seemed very nervous and subdued and did not appear to share Marcus's enthusiastic interest in the preparations taking place in the inn yard.

"How many boys are there Marcus ?" Corax asked in a voice that made clear his patience was near breaking point.

"At least twenty Father. They're coming in all the time now. A lot of them are crying. And Vacca's just turned all the boys out from her kitchen. There are quite a lot of men watching the fun too. I think I should take them down now Father. If we leave it much later there maybe such a crowd that I won't be able to see anything."

"Oh all right. Strip you two boys, fold your tunics up neatly and come here. Now take these two pieces of wood with you and hold onto them they're evidence your duty has been paid. If you loose them I'm certainly not going to pay it twice. You'll finish up down a mine shaft in Cornwall and you'll never come out of there even when your dead. There's no point blubbing Pisclus, your hides going to be marked with the hot iron and that's the end of it."

Pisclus appeared to have panicked now that the time for the branding was so near. He held the small tablet of wood that Corax had given him tightly in his hand but seemed unable to move away from the man. Corax raised his hand to hit him. Quickly Bestia took the frightened boy's hand in his and gently lead him to the door. Marcus followed the two naked children as they walked hand in hand down the staircase to the yard. His eyes were fixed on the two tender boys' bottoms soon to be scorched by the darkly glowing branding iron. He felt a sense of rising excitement as he reflected that shortly they would each be made even more exciting by the addition of an imperial eagle neatly incised in the smooth boys' flesh.

The inn yard was getting crowded although they had not yet started branding the boys. Down one side of the yard legionaries were lining up the boys as they arrived, all naked and many openly weeping in terror. The soldiers were not gentle. They strode up and down the yard maintaining order among the boys with fist, boot and blows with the flats of their swords across bare rumps and shoulders.

Elsewhere in the yard was a considerable and growing number of men. Some stood about in small groups chatting and enjoying the spectacle. A few wandered up and down the among boys taking a connoisseurs interest in the more attractive ones and occasionally assisting the soldiers by clouting a frightened boy back into line.

Pisclus and Bestia stumbled into the yard. A legionnaire spotted them and strode over.

"Where did you two little tarts come from," he demanded roughly.

Bestia pointed up to the rooms where Corax and Marcus were staying. Although he was in a better condition than Pisclus he too was very frightened and he found it all but impossible to speak.

"The duty has been paid," Marcus said stepping forward. "they have their receipts with them."

"Ah," the soldier said turning to him, "and who are you young Sir." The deference with which he spoke to Marcus contrasting strongly with the harsh contemptuous tones he had used to Bestia.

"I am Marcus son of Corax and these are two of our slaves."

"Falco," the legionnaire shouted and a harsh faced tough looking character wearing a shabby toga hurried over.

"Corax's slaves", he continued, "and that one," he nodded significantly at Pisclus, "is the right age."

"He maybe the right age," the man addressed as Falco said looking the trembling boy up and down coldly, " but he looks like a common or ordinary little whore to me not a son of the Cornellii. Can you see that gang of upper class snobs allowing a member of their family to be paraded naked with a cock ring. Still I know my old friend Corax well and there's one sure test."

He grabbed Pisclus roughly by the arm and swung him round so the boy's back was to him. He put his hand on the back of his head forcing him to bend forward. He parted the boy's buttocks and laughed.

"No that's not a Cornellii," he said. "They'd never allow Corax to enjoy one of their children like that. He's just an ordinary boy tart. Nice bum though. I wonder if Corax would let an old acquaintance enjoy it if I asked him nicely. I must try."

"Get the pare of them in line soldier and use your intelligence before bothering me again." He walked away.

"You heard what the man said," the legionnaire shouted, none too pleased at being admonished by Falco and taking it out on the two helpless slave lads. "Get over against that wall move." He lashed out with the flat of his sword catching first Pisclus and then Bestia heavy blows across their bottoms. Bestia grabbed Pisclus by the hand and ,tugging him behind him, scuttled across to join the other slaves.

Watching the boys Marcus could see that Pisclus was still beside himself with panic and was earning himself more than his fair share of blows from the soldiers and their enthusiastic civilian assistants. Bestia did his best to calm him and keep him from straying from his allotted place, keeping hold of his hand despite receiving numerous blows about his own body. Suddenly Marcus spotted Ceres. He appeared to be trying to wriggle his way through the crowd of boys towards Bestia and Pisclus. He was sworn at and hit but still he persevered. He got to the two boys and took Pisclus's free hand. Holding him in this way the two older boys were able to control him better although, having already attracted the attention of the guards, they were still regularly thumped and kicked.

Marcus thought how stupid Bestia and Ceres were. Surely they could see that by involving themselves with Pisclus they were getting them selves hurt. Of course they were slaves and their feelings and thought processes, such as they were, would be quite different from his own.. They were brutes, hardly different from any other animal, they were used to being beaten and wouldn't feel the blows rained on them the same way as he or any other properly civilised being would .

There was a loud scream, a cheer rose from the man standing around, a low wailing rose from the crowd of boys. Marcus realised the first child had been branded. He tried to push his way to where the brazier with it's load of smouldering coals stood. The crowd was thickest here and he could make little headway. He resigned himself to having to listen rather than to watch the fun. He could see little. Just Falco towering over the crowd as he grimly supervised operations. The man turned his head and caught sight of Marcus.

"Make way there," he shouted stentoriousley. "Let the young gentleman through you men. Son of my old acquaintance Corax. Let him through at once."

The crowd parted. Marcus found himself standing beside Falco next to the brazier and within a couple of feet of the sturdy wooden bench over which the boys were held to be branded. He noticed that the top of the bench was already soaking wet and that a pool of urine had formed on the yard floor beneath it. Falco 's gaze followed his eyes.

"Most of them wet themselves when they feel the iron," he explained. "I assume you did want to get a good view of what we are up to."

"Oh Yes. Thank you very much."

"You're your father's son I can see that. Well stand here and you will see everything." Falco rested a hand on Marcus's shoulder.

"All right," Falco said turning to his men, "lets get on with it then."

The men who had stopped working while Falco talked to Marcus sprang back into action. The legionaries exercised a fierce and merciless control over the boys waiting their turn on the branding bench. The slightest hesitation or failure to keep moving was visited with blows and curses. The yard was filled with a cacophony of noise, shouts, the thud of blows landing on bare backs and bums, yelps and howls of pain and over it all the shrill screams of the children as one by one the glowing iron burnt its mark into their bare flesh.

Standing where he was Marcus could see everything. The terror on the face of the unfortunate boys as they were dragged to the block, the way their thin bodies managed despite being held firm to quail away from the approaching iron, the agony on their faces as the glowing iron was pressed home.

The men worked hard and fast. Three men controlled the actual branding. Two were engaged in hauling the boys from the head of the line up to the block. As one dragged the lead boy forward the second would lay hold of the next in line and hold him ready. The man would force the boy down over the bench holding him in place by twisting his arm hard up his back. The third man was the one who did the actual branding. He used three irons alternating their use so that each iron on being withdraw from the brazier was red hot.

Once a boy was branded he was simply turned loose into the crowd. Some were collected immediately by their masters. Others ran off howling but quite a few would skulk off holding their bottoms only to reappear later watching their fellows suffering with glee. Marcus noticed that quite a few of these boys became sexually aroused and became targets for certain of the men in the audience. Marcus felt himself becoming excited and looking at the men about him he could see that they were being similarly effected. Falco without moving his hand from his shoulder began to stroke his cheek with his thumb. Marcus moved closer to him and felt he hardness at his crutch pressing through the folds of his toga.

"I thought you fancied my slave Pisclus," he murmured to the man.

"He's a pretty little whore," Falco replied but no slave boy however pretty can compare with a handsome young free boy like you."

"I can't see why," Marcus replied with a pleased giggle.

"Why it's easy." Falco interrupted himself to boot a boy who was not quick enough in getting away from the block. "Scat, curse you get your idle carcass out of here dog's turd," he shouted and then turning back to Marcus. "Sorry about that. A slave has no choice. I see one I fancy I, provided his owner does not object, fuck him. With a free boy the boy has to choose me. He has to give himself freely. Now I saw you and I thought that's just the sort of handsome lad I could really love. The sort of good looking boy to whom I would like to give my silver hilted dagger set with emeralds that the king of Dalmatia gave me for saving his life."

"A silver hilted dagger….?" Marcus asked.

"Yes here it is. Want to look." Falco pulled the dagger from the folds of his toga.

"Have you killed anyone with it?" Marcus asked wonderingly.

Falco smiled.

"If your father gives permission will you come across to my rooms tonight? If you do, you can have the dagger and if you want I'll tell you it's history as well."

"Yes I'll come," Marcus replied, "thank you." It was the first time a man had propositioned him seriously and he felt flattered that Falco, a dare devil a figure, was that man.

"Oh look," he added, "here comes my boy Pisclus."

He watched fascinated as the boy's frail body was dragged to the bench and forced brutally down. The hot iron was pressed against the tender little rump and Pisclus screamed shrilly. The man pulled the boy roughly from the bench and flung him onto the ground.

"Pisclus," Marcus shouted. "Here boy. Here."

The boy got unsteadily to his feet. Marcus stepped forward and put his arms around his trembling body. Pisclus tipped his head back and Marcus kissed him full on the lips feasting on the boy's suffering. He could almost, he thought, taste his pain. Pisclus's thin arms came round his neck and hugged him. Marcus slid his right hand down Pisclus's back. He let it rest a moment on the curve of the lad's rump. Then he moved it sideways to the boy's left hip. With his thumb nail he traced the brand mark incised in his little slave's bum. He felt the boy's body twist in his grasp as this action sent fresh waves of agony through his tortured body.

He pushed Pisclus away.

"Come up to the rooms now," he commanded roughly. "I am going to fuck you however sore your bum."

"Don't use up all your energy now. Keep some for tonight," Falco called after him amid gales of laughter from the crowd of men.

Chapter 13

Once Marcus got back to his rooms he dragged Pisclus over to the window. He turned the still sobbing boy so his left side was to the light. Eagerly he examined the place where the hot iron had been pressed into the side of the lad's hip. He noticed how cleanly the brand had been scorched into the smooth flesh. Marcus found this mark, that so harshly and completely established the other boy's servitude, intensely exciting. It was a cruel blemish but it's very savageness served to emphasise the vulnerable beauty of Pisclus's delectable boy's bottom.

For a moment he stood gloating over this, to him, enchanting disfigurement. Then he dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to the tortured flesh. Pisclus whimpered and involuntarily backed away. Marcus caught hold of the boy by his waist holding him in place as his tongue explored the outline of the imperial eagle etched into the side his young slave's bottom .

Marcus could restrain himself no longer. He stood up. Pisclus caught sight of Marcus's rampant cock. No order was necessary. He knew what was required of him. He knew also that it would hurt as much, if not more than, the branding he had just experienced but his pain was of no significance when matched against the Marcus's pleasure. Unsteadily he made his way across to the couch. His knees felt weak and his feet seemed to be made of lead but he knew he had no choice. Reluctantly he lay down on his face. He spread his legs and lifted his bottom ready for his master to enjoy. He heard Marcus approach and began to whimper with fear.

The sight of the trembling boy offering his sore but lovely bottom for his enjoyment increased Marcus's excitement to fever pitch. He knew that the boy had not had a chance to recover fully from his father's assault two nights previously. If he was to be able to enjoy the boy again he realised it would be as well to grease his cock and the boy's hole thoroughly. It never occurred to him however that he should forgo his pleasure altogether. He covered the tip of his index finger with grease and began to work it between the lips of Pisclus's anus. The boy cried out as Marcus probed his hurt. Pisclus's suffering served only to further arouse the older boy's lust.

So excited was Marcus that Pisclus's agony, acute though it was, was not long drawn out.

The crisis past Marcus lay for a moment beside the weeping boy. Then he sat up and examined the lads bottom. So far as he could see he had not reopened the wounds.

At this point Corax and Bestia walked into the room. Marcus stood to greet his father and Bestia hurried over to the couch.

Bestia put his arms about the sobbing boy comforting him. He glanced back over his shoulder. It seemed to Marcus almost as though there was a hint of reproach in the Bestia's eyes. He quickly dismissed the idea. It was ridiculous; a slave daring to make a judgement about his behaviour.

Marcus shrugged on his tunic. From the inn yard came the sound of a boy screaming mixed with loud male laughter. It was clear the brandings were continuing. He strolled over to the window. The crowd of men was pressing so close about the bench that he could see nothing of the actual brandings although he had a clear view of the crowd of naked boys waiting to be marked with the hot iron. It was clear from the shouts of the men and the enthusiasm with which the legionaries harried their young charges that for all but the unfortunate slaves the occasion was an enjoyable one. Falco, Marcus thought, would be in a state of very great excitement by the end of the day.

He picked up an apple from a bowl on the table and bit into it.

"Father," he asked casually, "were you planning that we should go out anywhere this evening?"

Corax who had heard that tone of voice before when his son had a plan in mind and was testing the water smiled to himself.

"No," he replied, "why?"

"Well Father you were out last night and I thought if you didn't need me I might just go over and see Falco. He said he'd tell me about some of the missions he has undertaken for the emperor."

This was bound to happen Corax thought. The lad was a good looking one. Handsome rather, than pretty, he was just the sort of adventurous, hardy boy that would appeal to an old soldier like Falco. And he was a blonde, Corax reflected bitterly, he knew, none better, how highly Romans prized blond boys.

At least Marcus had the right to choose. That was a right that was denied him when, at very much the same age, his bottom had been brutally raped. Falco too was not a bad sort of fellow, tough but trustworthy. He wasn't the sort of man who would deliberately alienate a boy from his family or make him question the values on which his own fortune was built.

Corax looked across at his son. Standing by the window, his head thrown back, the sun glinting on his fair hair, his lithe young body outlined against the light, he seemed to be charged with energy. A boy looking to the future with enthusiasm and hope. Quite unlike he had been at his age or indeed as the grandson of his old master now was. Living not in hope but in dread, waking each morning knowing the new day would bring only further drudgery, humiliation and pain, that was the life of a slave. Knowing that to resist or even show resentment would bring the savagest of beatings, no wonder the boys were cowed and fearful. His son would not know that. He would face the world with pride and an unbroken spirit.

Corax did not betray these thoughts that passed quickly through his mind.

"Do you think it is only about his work for the Emperor that he wishes to speak to you?" he asked dryly.

"No Father I do not." Marcus looked at the floor and blushed.

"And you still wish to go?"

Marcus nodded silently.

"Very well. There are worse men about than Falco. I would want you to make a good impression. You must have a bath and wear fresh clothes. Pisclus will attend you provided he is capable of it."

Corax turned away from his son and glanced back into the room. Pisclus lay prone on the floor whimpering quietly as Bestia tended his damaged bum.

"Come on you little runt," he snapped. "If you can't work you're no good to me. Get up on your feet let's see if you're worth keeping."

Pisclus dragged himself painfully to his feet.

"All right come here." Corax watched the boy coldly as he hobbled towards him.

"Looks as though he's laying an egg," he remarked and he and Marcus both laughed.

Marcus stood upright in the tub of warm water while Corax sponged his body down. Bestia stood to one side holding a heavy jug of hot water ready to replenish the bath as required. A maid servant fussed about Pisclus near the window. A childish murmur of protest followed by the sound of a sharp slap and a burst of hopeless whimpering showed that discipline was being maintained.

Corax worked quietly at his son's body. He was resolved that if the lad was to be bedded he would make a good impression. Sponging carefully between the boy's legs he reflected that there was every sign he would be a lively little performer if a stiff cock was any thing to go by.

"Out you come," he said helping Marcus from the tub.

He draped a thick towel over his son's shoulders and vigorously dried him off. He really was a very good looking boy he thought; strong firm legs, neatly put together body, hair the colour of ripe corn and a clear skin tanned an almost golden honey colour except about his bottom and crutch. He was proud of his son and loved him. He was determined that his son's initiation should be a gentle one. The lad had much to learn and the lessons could be hard ones for a high spirited boy. Pain he knew was unavoidable but it could be minimised and was after all only a stepping stone to ever more intense pleasures. Falco he was sure would treat Marcus kindly and he would himself do what he could to ease the boy's path.

Corax seated himself and spread the towel over his knees. The boy was already highly excited and he did not want his tunic soiled. He reached up and guided Marcus face down across his knees. He rested his hand on the boy's upturned bottom while he waited for Bestia to bring him the goose fat. Marcus, without needing to be told spread his legs and pushed his rump upwards. Corax dipped his index finger into the fat and gently ran it along the lips of Marcus's anus. The boy tensed.

"Try and relax," Corax said gently. "it will be easier."

He pushed his finger gently but firmly into the boy. There was a sharp intake of breath but Marcus gave no other signs of pain or nervousness as his father's finger explored his bottom. Corax pressed the finger further into the boy feeling his body close about it. He became aware that he was himself becoming excited. Well that was only natural, he told himself, the boy was an attractive one as well as being his son . He would have to be a man of iron or a eunuch to explore so lovely a boy's bottom without being effected. He withdrew his finger, wiped it clean on Bestia's bare thigh before applying more grease to it. This time he inserted two fingers and then three, deliberately stretching the boy's sphincter. Marcus caught his breath slightly but otherwise gave no sign of the discomfort he must be experiencing.

Corax worked his fingers further into his son's body. Marcus's breath quickened. The muscles in his bottom began to pulsate as he reacted to his father's probing. The spasms became more intense and then suddenly ceased. Marcus lay still across his fathers knees. Corax withdrew his fingers from the boy's bottom and helped him to his feet.

"Lucky I used the towel," he remarked lightly handing the soiled cloth to Bestia.

"That must have hurt a bit Marcus," Corax continued.

"Just a bit Father," the boy gasped.

"Most boys make a good deal more fuss of it then you did."

"I'm not a slave Father," Marcus spoke between gritted teeth. "I'm not going to whimper and moan and show myself up like some little slut."

"Good boy." Corax was obviously pleased with his sons answer. "now get dressed. Clean tunic and loincloth and you'll be ready. Lucky you are so young. A lad of your age can cum a dozen times in a day and still have energy to satisfy his lover."

"Now let's see how Pisclus looks. Bring the child over girl."

The maid, a sturdy eighteen year old slave girl, dragged Pisclus across the room to Corax. Rouge had been applied to his nipples, cheeks and lips while the boy's eye lids had been painted black and his lashes darkened with mascara. The only thing that stopped him looking like a crudely painted child's doll was his cock ring which forced his tiny balls and prick out from his body giving them an unnatural prominence. Pisclus stood in front of Corax his head bowed looking utterly miserable. The man put his hand under the boy's chin and tipped his head back. He saw that the Mascara and eye shadow had run leaving dark stains down his cheeks where the tears had flowed.

Corax gestured to the girl who handed him a fragment of damp cloth.

"What was he fussing about?" Corax asked her as he wiped the dark stains from Pisclus's cheeks.

"He didn't want to be made up Sir," the girl replied spitefully. "He said he was a boy and boys don't wear make up."

Corax laughed.

"Well, well," he said, still chuckling he leant forward and took the boy's balls, no bigger than a pair of grapes, between his finger and thumb, "a little bit of pride eh? We'll soon deal with that."

He squeezed gently and Pisclus began to whimper.

"Listen slut," he grated. "What you want is of no importance. You're of no more importance than a lump of dog's shit. You do what your Master says and you don't argue . Ever."

He increased the pressure of his grip on the child's testicles..

"Do you understand boy?"

"Sir yes Sir," Pisclus sobbed.

"If I want you to be a girl you will be a girl. I've got a good mind to have these off you now." He squeezed and twisted. Pisclus howled in agony.

"But for the moment I'm just going to make sure you don't forget. Turn round and take hold of your ankles."

Corax stood up.

"Fetch me the cane," he said to the grinning girl.

He measured the distance between himself and the trembling boy's bare rump with care. He lifted the cane above his head and brought it whistling down through the air, aiming not at the boy's defenceless bum, but at the ground beyond it. There was a crack as wood impacted on bare flesh and Pisclus's sobbing rose to a shrill howl of pain. Twice more Corax laid burning stripes across Pisclus's quivering bottom.

"Right turn and face me."

"Tell me boy what are you?"

Pisclus hesitated. It wasn't stubbornness or false pride. He just wasn't sure what the correct answer was…slut?….pig shit?…whore? …tart? and if he guessed wrong …

"Pig shit, boy…" crack, the cane caught him a stinging blow across the front of the shins, "Pig shit and don't you forget it. What are you?"

"Pig shit Sir."

"Yes and a slut," crack, another cut across the shins, " and a whore," crack, "and a tart," crack.

The last stroke Corax delivered across the front of the boys thighs leaving a scarlet weal across the smooth bare flesh.

"Now I want to hear you thank the girl for making you look pretty. Come on boy speak up."

"Thank you Miss for making me look pretty," Pisclus managed to gasp out between sobs.

"Good and it's no good her taking all that trouble with you for you to stand there blubbing. You're a tart, you're got up like a tart, and like a tart you should try to attract men. Smile boy ."

Corax raised the cane threateningly. Pisclus terrified, forced his lips into a ghastly imitation of a smile while tears still coursed down his cheeks and his thin chest with the obscenely painted nipples heaved with sobs.

"That's better," Corax said.

"Tonight," Corax continued wiping the snot away from the boy's nose as he spoke, "you are to attend on your Master while he visits his lover. It's not like with you when it doesn't matter how much your bottom is hurt or ripped provided you please your Master. It does matter if he is hurt and your job is to see that he isn't. When the man tells you or when you see the opportunity you've got to grease his cock. You're not to kiss it or lick it or anything else except grease it. That cock is for your Master. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Well I hope you do for your own sake because if Marcus comes back with a sore bottom I'm going to rip the skin off yours with the cane."

"Marcus I'm quite serious. We set out for London tomorrow that's more than sixty miles away and we have only two days for the journey. You'll be riding and you don't want to start off with a sore bottom and you don't want to start off exhausted either so be sensible tonight."

"Yes father," Marcus replied cheerfully and then added. "What about Pisclus and Bestia?"

"What about them…Oh they'll be walking and they'll have burdens to carry as well. We've treated them too soft up to now. The next few days they'll have to earn their keep. Don't worry they'll manage the journey all right. The whip will keep them going."

A cold wind was gusting across the Inn yard as Marcus and Pisclus made their way to Falco's room. Heavy clouds scurried across the sky warning of worse weather to come.

The room when they got there was warm and cheerful. Despite it being still summer a fire burnt brightly in the grate and wax candles shed a soft light relieving the gloom cast be the threatening weather.

Falco came to meet Marcus at the door and guided him to a couch in front of the fire. He sat down beside him near, but not crowding, the lad.

"You've brought your boy with you," Falco remarked, "perhaps he could serve us with wine."

Pisclus hurried to a table in the corner of the room where he could see food and drink had been laid out in advance. There was a large jug of sweet white wine from Thrace that Falco had rightly guessed would be more to his young guest's taste than the dark red Falernian that was his own favourite. The only drinking vessel was a silver goblet embossed with a scene where satyrs sported with pretty boys. Pisclus filled this and took it across to the couch kneeling to hand it to Falco. He returned for the tray of food, roast door mice, almonds coated with honey, pickled sky lark tongues among other delicacies.

"Don't try kneeling with that," Falco said hastily as Pisclus approached the couch. "It will be too heavy for you to hold up. Just stand in front of us with it."

He removed his arm from along the back of the couch where he had draped it as he leant forward to hold the goblet to Marcus's lips so that he could taste the wine. He noticed the fresh brand mark on the side of Pisclus's hip.

"A nice clean mark," he said touching it. "We've got pretty good at it now. Plenty of practice I suppose."

"Still sore is it?" he asked as Pisclus stirred uneasily as his finger tips traced it's outline in the boy's flesh.

"Yes Sir."

"Well the pain will fade though the mark never will. Still I think it rather sets off the lines of your bottom than any thing else."

"It shows he's a slave and always will be," Marcus, who was none too pleased at the attention that the man was showing Pisclus, interjected.

"Yes," Falco said hastily catching the edge in his young guests voice, "and a slave is good to give you relief if you're feeling horny but that's it. They're a good fuck and nothing else. If you decided you wanted to fuck that boy there he would give you as good a time as he could and then if you lent him to me he would do the same for me. But I want more from a boy I love than that."

"I want to be able to talk to you, to tell you about life and to listen to your ambitions and plans and advice you."

"If I asked that little tart what he hoped for he couldn't answer me or all he'd say is a kind master or enough to eat. He couldn't have real ambitions like you to be a great soldier and conquer new provinces for the emperor or become a great orator and set the senate alight."

"I don't want to be an orator and I don't want to be a general either," Marcus, who was getting bored with this monologue interjected. "I want to be a sailor."

"What and sweep the seas clear of pirates?" asked Falco with an indulgent smile.

"No I want to travel further and farther than any one up to now. I want to know what's out there."

"Very little I should imagine," Falco said dryly. "to the West just the grey sea to the end of the world, to the North a land of constant ice and snow and to the South the deserts of Africa. There are people to the East, we know that because we trade with them but you can hardly sail across dry land."

"We don't know what's to the South. My father took me down the African coast once and it was all desert but it went on and on and we turned back. We don't know if anything lies beyond that but people come to Libya from the South to trade with us and they bring gold and slaves so there must be something there. And people come from the East to Pontus with spices and silk and my father trades with them and he tells me they speak of great empires there as rich and as powerful as Rome and also great seas. Suppose there is one sea and you could sale round Africa to the East."

"Well suppose," Falco said with a laugh. "what good would it be to know that? We trade with the East. We get what we need from them with out the trouble of sailing there.."

"But there might be much more and I would like to know. And you say there's nothing to the West but …but I've been with my father far up to the North and there I was shown a little boat like nothing you've ever seen. Sharp at each end and made of skin and I was told that was blown there from the West in a great gale that blew for ten days with a strange man inside it also dressed in skins. When we went there the man had died but they still had the boat and they showed it me. That man must have come from somewhere…and …and I want to know where."

Marcus in his earnestness had turned his face towards Falco. The boy looked up into his eyes. Enthusiasm transformed him from a rather spoilt arrogant youth into some thing a good deal more appealing. Falco could not resist the temptation. He bent forward, their lips met and he slipped his tongue into Marcus's mouth. He rested his hand on the inside of the boy's thigh and began to move it slowly upwards. He might not be interested in exploring the world but Marcus's body was another matter.

Chapter 14

By next morning the cold wind that had been blowing the previous evening was driving heavy rain before it. Pisclus and Bestia hesitated a second or two at the foot of the stairs before venturing out into the inn yard. Then mindful of the penalties that had been threatened if they delayed they scampered across the streaming cobble stones to the open double doors of the stables.

Pisclus slipped inside the doors and stood blinking nervously. This was a moment he had been dreading through out his stay at the inn. Would the groom remember him and would he try and carry out his threat to rape him now he had been forced, as the man had forecast he would, to return to the stables?

It was dark inside the building and for a moment Pisclus could see nothing. Then standing by a loose box to the right of the door he saw the man. Wearing only a strip of cloth wound around his waist, barrel chested, bow legged and holding a pitchfork, he looked to the frightened boy, like some half human monster.

"Well," the man leered, "you've come back to me have you my pretty little friend and all naked too, just as I want you."

"Please," Pisclus pleaded backing away from the looming figure, "we've been sent to get our master's animals ready they're leaving today. If we don't get it done straight away they'll beat us for sure."

"You can have the animals my darling and I'll help you saddle them too but I'll have your arse first."

The man put down the pitch fork and made a lunge at Pisclus who darted away to one side.

"My bum's all sore. Please don't make me," Pisclus begged. Indeed if his bottom had been in a better shape he would have submitted himself willingly enough, to the man's lust. Being fucked by the man would have been a small price to pay for getting the horses ready quickly and escaping a beating. A few days rough treatment by Marcus had been enough to persuade him of that . However his bottom was still very painful following Corax's assault on him and he remembered how much having even Marcus's boy's prick inside him had hurt. How much more would the grooms cock hurt especially if was in proportion to the rest of the man's body. "I don't care how sore it is….I have to have it before you can have the horses."

The groom moved towards Pisclus who backed away from him.

"Why don't you have me instead," Bestia suggested moving forward into the stable so the man could see him. "I would give you a really good time."

The man glanced round at the other boy and stood for a moment considering him with his head on one side. Pisclus took the opportunity to dodge round him. Unnoticed by the man he picked up the pitch fork.

"No," the man said. "No I like them younger than you. I'll have my dark haired little beauty. Now come on boy the more you bugger about the harder it will be for you."

He turned back to Pisclus and saw the boy crouched before him the pitchfork levelled at his stomach.

"Oh no my little sweet heart," he said grimly. "You can't frighten me like that. A little whore like you wouldn't have the guts to use that."

He stepped forward. Pisclus knowing he couldn't bring himself to drive the prongs into the man's bare guts lifted the fork. At the same moment Bestia, desperate to defend the younger boy, grabbed a bucket from the floor and launched himself at the man. He swung the bucket high in the air and brought it cracking down on the back of the groom's head. The man staggered forward and one of the tines entered his throat. He made an odd choking sound. He lifted his hands to his neck. Dark blood welled from between his fingers and he fell heavily to the floor.

"I didn't mean to do it," Pisclus gasped and began to cry.

"Do you think he was free?" Bestia asked in a frightened voice.

Pisclus stopped crying and the two boys stood for a moment in terrified silence. They both knew that if the man had been free nothing would safe them. Not their youth, not the fact that what had happened was an accident or that the man had been the instigator of the incident. If they were lucky they might die during the preliminary flogging or the soldiers might be merciful and quietly kill them, that had been known to happen, otherwise it would be days hanging from the nails through their palms and ankles until death brought them relief.

"No, I'm sure he can't have been," Pisclus whispered. "Not the way he was dressed or the work he did."

"We're still due a terrible flogging," Bestia said.

"It's my fault. I'll say I did it. There's no reason why two of us should have our backs bloodied.." Pisclus tried desperately to sound brave but his voice wavered.

"I expect we'll both be beaten what ever you say." Bestia sounded hardly less frightened than the younger boy. "You help me and we'll drag him into a corner and cover his body with straw. We'll be away soon and once they find his body they won't know where we are and may be they won't even work out we did it."

The two naked boys caught hold of the man by his ankles and tried to haul him into a dark corner of the stables. The body was a heavy one and blood made the flagstoned floor slippy. They found it easier to move the body by rolling it. The cloth about it's waste rode up as they were doing this. Pisclus caught sight of the shaft of dead meat flopping between the corpse's legs and felt thankful that he had been spared so massive a cock up his still painful bum.

At last the two boys got the body behind one of the loose boxes. They worked feverishly to cover it with straw. Then they realised how the man's blood had soiled their own bodies. Desperately they rubbed each other down with handfuls of hay trying to clean the tell tale stains from their bare limbs. Finally Bestia tipped some buckets of cold water over the floor washing away the worst of the blood.

"It's pretty dark in here," Bestia said glancing round. "With a bit of luck nobody'll notice for a bit that anything is wrong. Come on we better get the animals ready or we'll be getting our bums warmed for being slow."

Working feverishly the boys got Corax's and Marcus's mounts saddled up and a bridle on the mule. Throwing sacks, as they had been instructed, over the backs of the horse and pony to protect them from the rain, they led the beasts out into the yard. They tethered them by the foot of the steps leading up to their masters rooms and hesitated not knowing what to do next. As he stood, the cold rain streaming down his naked body, Pisclus wished that some one had thought to provide some protection from the elements for the slave boys as well as the animals.

Ceres ran over to them from the kitchens. He was hiding something behind his back.

"I pinched this for you two," he said breathlessly producing a mutton bone. "There's quite a bit of meat still on it and it's only a couple of days old. Hide it under one of the sacks for the time being. Quick if any one sees me with it I'll get a hiding. And I'm to help you get the animals loaded up"

For the next half hour the three boys were engaged in lugging the baggage into the yard and loading it onto the mule. Corax and Marcus very sensibly stayed in the dry until this was done and only then came outside. They had sheep skins draped over their shoulders to protect them from the rain and cold.

Corax inspected the mule and then turned to look at the three naked shivering boys.

"Do you expect this poor beast to carry all this luggage you lazy little animals. It'll break it's back and it would cost more than all three of you are worth to replace. It's time Pisclus and Bestia you actually did some work. Come on get most of that load off him and onto your own backs."

Under Corax's supervision bundle after bundle was lifted from the mule and heaped onto the backs of the two boys. Even before they started on their march Pisclus could feel the rope holding his burden in place galling his shoulders. He could tell that Bestia was in no better condition from the way the boy staggered under his load. Corax positioned the two boys so that Pisclus was standing behind Bestia. He then roped them together by their collars and carried the rope forward to the mule.

"Are they going to make it loaded like that Father? Marcus asked and added, showing that his concern was for the practicalities of the journey and not the well being of the boys. "It would be a nuisance to have to shift their loads if the brats can't keep going."

"They will keep going," Corax replied grimly. He handed Marcus a horse whip. "It'll be your job to keep them moving. Any signs of them slowing down give them a taste of this. It's surprising how far they'll carry those loads with the lash to encourage them."

Corax gathered the lead reigns of the mule and swung himself onto the back of his horse. He dug his heels into the animal's sides. Marcus cracked his whip giving Pisclus a painful flick on his bare rump. The boy squealed and started forward. The long journey to London had begun.

Corax set off at a steady walk. But it was a pace that his horse kept up for mile after mile. The two boys plodded along wearily behind him their backs and legs aching from the effort of carrying their loads, just as much beasts of burden as the mule to which they were roped. The road was wet and passing horsemen and carts splashed water up at them. Soon their legs and flanks were flecked with mud. It was as much as they could do to keep going but keep going they did for the slightest hesitation or stumble brought a savage cut from the lash on a bare leg or shoulder. Hour after hour they plodded forward, backs bent, conscious only of the road under their feet, the cold rain and increasing exhaustion urged remorselessly on by Marcus and his cruel whip.

At last Corax reigned in his horse. The burdens were lifted from the two boys raw shoulders. The two boys were left, huddled together for warmth, crouching in the shelter of a wall with the animals as Marcus and Corax entered an inn in search of food.

After a minute or two Bestia shuffled cautiously over to the mule and pulled out the mutton bone from where he had hidden it among the bundles on the animals back. He squatted back down and tore a mouthful of flesh from it. Chewing steadily he passed the bone to Pisclus. The boys did not speak to each other. What was there for them to say?

Men passed going in and out of the inn. One or two glanced at them appraisingly but quickly looked away. Cold wet and dirty they were a miserable looking pair.

Soon the bone was picked bare. Still they were hungry but despite this and the rain and the cold so exhausted were they that they slept.

They were roused by sharp kicks in their ribs. Then they were once more back on their feet, staggering wearily along behind Corax and the mule, spurred on with frequent cracks of the whip.

Pisclus could remember little of the march. Just the pain and the weariness. He saw nothing of the country about him or the other users of the road. All he saw was the road a few feet in front of him and the backs of Bestia's bare legs as they plodded onwards.

They shared a stable at an inn about ten miles [16km] on the London side of Chelmsford with the animals that night. One of the grooms took pity on them and begged a bowl of gruel for them from the kitchen but famished as they were they fell asleep while eating it.

They had completed about half the journey. Corax remarked to his son as they went up to their rooms that the boys were lucky. They had shelter and dry straw to lie in.

Marcus despite his sheep skin was chilled from the journey. His father could see this and ordered that a bath should be prepared for him. Corax examined his son as he stripped off. So far as he could see their was no damage from his love making with Falco the previous night. He sat beside the bath watching as two giggling girl slaves poured steaming water over his sons bare back and chest The girls obviously thought the boy a handsome one and Marcus, Corax could see from the stiffening of his little cock, enjoyed the girls' attentions. He was pleased about this. The more of life's pleasures the boy could appreciate the better for him.

Corax dipped his hand in the warm water of the bath. He, like Marcus, was still cold from the journey. The back of his hand brushed the side of the boy's thigh. Marcus glanced up at him and smiled. Corax decided that his son would have to postpone experiencing a new pleasure for the moment and made a sign to the two slave girls. Making little noises of mock disappointment they scuttled from the room.

"Falco didn't hurt you last night?" Corax enquired.

"Well just a little to begin with Father but then it was all right."

"All right?" Corax said quizzically. He moved his hand so that it was resting on the inside of his son's thigh.

"Well it was very good Father. One of the nicest things I've ever had done to me. He was in me as far as he could go. I could feel his crutch pressing up against my bottom and his cock exploded right inside me. It was like his prick was pressing up into my belly. It hurt a lot at first really but it was worth it."

"Were you sore this morning Marcus?" Corax began to slide his hand slowly up Marcus's thigh..

"Just a bit Father but not too bad. Not so bad as to make me feel it wasn't worth it." Marcus gave a little shiver of appreciation.

"You saw me in the baths," Corax remarked. "Is Falco about the same size as me?" Corax's hand was now at the juncture of the boy's legs. He moved his thumb slightly so that it caressed the lad's balls.

"He's quite a bit smaller Father but.. but..but if you want to fuck me I'm sure I could take you." The last part of the sentence came out in a breathless excite rush.

Corax lent forward and kissed Marcus gently on the forehead. Then he put a hand under each arm and lifted the dripping boy out of the bath and onto his lap. Marcus felt his father's prick pressing hard up against his bare bum through the coarse material of his tunic. He twisted round and clasped his arms about the man's neck. Corax kissed the boy hard on the lips. For a moment Corax's tongue probed the boy's mouth. Then he lifted the child to his feet and stood up himself. He slipped his tunic off over his head. He saw Marcus staring at him, his eyes fixed on his swollen cock, an expression of mixed wonder and apprehension on his face.

"Are you sure you can manage it?" Corax asked again.

Marcus said nothing but simply nodded.

Corax rummaged in his baggage until he found his jar of grease. He returned to his chair and reached out once more for Marcus. The boy lay down over his father's knees. Corax could feel the lad's little cock hard against his own bare thighs. He manoeuvred Marcus so that his own prick, which was fully erect, rested against the side of the boy's rump. Dipping his index finger into the jar Corax began to work grease along the lips of Marcus anus. He noticed that there was no sign of tearing or soreness. He thought Falco had indeed been very gentle in his love making. He pressed his finger into Marcus's body. This time there was only the briefest moment of resistance and then the boy relaxed. He pushed his way past the sphincter and the boy's flesh closed about his finger seeming to try to draw it ever further into his body.

Corax felt the boy's cock begin to throb wildly. He began to ease his finger out of the boy's body. At the same time he pressed the index finger of his left hand hard against the boys body just behind his balls and kept it there until his prick, starved of blood, began to soften. Marcus gave moaned quietly. Corax allowed the lad to lie still across his knee for a moment as he softly stroked the lovely boy's bottom so invitingly exposed to his hand and eyes.

Marcus rested for a moment taking pleasure in the feel of his father's hand caressing his backside and experiencing a strange but deeply satisfying feeling of contentment. He could feel the blood pulsing pulse in his father's hard cock as it pressed against the side of his own bum. He slipped to the floor at his father's feet and taking the jar of unguent in his hand began to grease the man's rod.

Corax looked down on his son's fair head bowed over his crutch as the boy's nimble fingers massaged his prick. The boy's face was blank, his lips slightly parted, it seemed that his whole being was concentrated on ministering to his father's rising passion. He bent forward and touched the tip of Corax's cock with his lips. He ran his tongue along the crack at it's tip. Corax's body shuddered in anticipation of the pleasure to come.

Marcus rose and taking his father by the hand led him over to the couch. He moved to lie on his face but his father taking him by the shoulders turned him and pushed him downwards so that he was sitting on it. The man caught him under the knees tipping him so that he fell backwards his bottom lifted ready for his cock. Corax pressed downwards forcing the boys knees back so that they rested against the couch on either side of his head. Marcus pinned in place by his fathers weight felt the man's cock pressing into his hole. Corax thrust forward . Marcus bit his lip to hold back his scream as the pain tore through him. It was much worse than anything he had experienced with Falco. But then he thought proudly my Father's that much bigger and stronger even than that man.

Marcus did not cry out but tears ran from his eyes and flowed down his face. Corax saw them and was touched. He kissed his son, tasting the salt of the boy's tears. Marcus was too proud to scream but his eyes betrayed his suffering.

Corax did not want to hurt his son but his lust was too strong for him. He thrust down again pounding his prick savagely down into the boy. Marcus felt intense pain but also, as he had with Falco, a deep penetrating pleasure, that obliterated the tearing agony in his bum. So hard were Corax's thrust that he drove the boy's body across the couch. He pulled back almost withdrawing his prick. Marcus grabbed the couch's side with both hands and dragged himself forward until Corax slammed down again, once more impaling the panting boy on his gigantic member. Sweating, moaning Marcus reponded to his father's violent love making. Finally Corax drove the full length of his cock into the boy's body and held it there. Marcus felt the man come deep inside him.

They rested like that for a moment and then Corax withdrew his cock. Glancing down he saw there were a few flecks of blood mixed with the shit that stained it. If Marcus had been a slave he would have made him lick his member clean, indeed Marcus in that moment of delicious surrender would not have even thought of protesting if his father had required it of him, instead Corax used water from the bath to wash it.

He turned back to tender to his son. Marcus though was back on his feet. The boy knuckled the tears from his eyes and smiled.

"Was I all right Father?" he asked anxiously

Corax did not answer him but kissed gently him on the lips.

When Corax and Marcus came out to the inn yard the next morning they found the rain had cleared overnight. There was still a cold wind but the skies were clear and the sun shone brightly.

The grooms had the animals already for them. Pisclus and Bestia were squatting on the ground beside their burdens, already roped by their collars to the mule. They looked utterly wretched, their shoulders raw from the ropes holding their loads in place and their bodies bearing numerous livid welts left by the whip. They did not even look up when Marcus and his father approached. They seemed to be exhausted even before the beginning of the day's journey.

"Get up, you lazy little tykes," Corax shouted kicking them viciously to their feet.

"Come on Marcus," he continued more quietly. "Help me get them loaded up. We've no time to loose we have to catch the tide by late afternoon. You'll have to drive them hard today. Don't spare the whip."

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