Zelamir

Helot

Chapters 6-10

Chapter 6

Long hours spent guarding the ripening corn from crows and starlings and other birds had honed Ayas' skills as a stone thrower. There was not a boy of his age that he knew could throw harder, or further, or more accurately. The stone, a good-sized flint, struck Callias on the side of the head. He staggered, dropping the brushwood torch, then fell and lay still. The torch blazed briefly and then guttered and went out. The only light now was that of the moon as the racing clouds scudded across its face.

Ayas ran forward. Crouching down he fumbled with the rope around Ocytus' ankle. He was knocked to the ground as Lichas leapt on top of him. He had no chance against the bigger stronger boy. Soon Lichas was sitting astride his chest his hands squeezing his throat.

"We'll roast your bum too slave lover," Lichas snarled as he tightened his grip. Ayas grabbed at his brother's wrists trying to break the other boys hold on his throat. He felt his strength failing then Lichas' weight was no longer pinning him to the ground and his hands were no longer around his throat.

Ayas sat up dragging great gulps of air into his tortured lungs. In the dim half-light he could see Lichas lying on the ground a yard or two away from him with Ocytus towering over him. As he watched Lichas tried to roll over onto his knees and there was a sickening thud as Ocytus drove his bare heel into the side of the boy's neck. He made a peculiar noise, half groan, half sigh, and fell back to the ground.

Ocytus set off in a shambling run away from the house, a grotesque figure, with his arms stretched wide, his wrists secured to the heavy yoke across his shoulders.

Ayas knew that flight was hopeless both for Ocytus and himself. A lone Helot boy would soon be spotted, stopped and returned to where he belonged and soundly flogged for running away. If that was true of himself it was even more true of Ocytus, a captive slave, hurt and exhausted, with a heavy yoke tied across his shoulders. Suddenly he saw there was only one place open to them that they could both be, for the moment at least, safe.

"Ocytus, Ocytus," he called running after him.

The youth turned and stumbled. Ayas caught him up.

"You'll never get away Ocytus," the boy said urgently. "You're not strong enough to go far and as soon as it's light you'll be caught and then they'll beat you again 3; and they brand runaways on the face 3; and maybe they'll blind you as well 3;or chop your big toes off. They do all those things to runaways."

Ocytus stopped and stood hesitating. Ayas tried to turn him to face the hut.

"You've got to come with me Ocytus," he pleaded. "Mum'll clean you up and put something on your cuts and things to make them better. She won't hurt you, or not much anyway," he added quickly for he was a truthful boy.

Somehow he turned Ocytus round and half pulling, half pushing urged the youth back to the hovel. At the doorway Ocytus hesitated but Ayas put both hands on his bottom and pushed. Ocytus yelped as the boy's hands pressed against his scorched skin and shot forward, banging his head on the low doorframe as he went.

"I've got Ocytus," Ayas announced following him into the hut. "Over here Ocytus let Mum have a look at you. She'll make things better for you."

"What's taken you so long and where's Callias and Lichas?" demanded Misinus grumpily, asking just the questions that Ayas did not want to answer.

"Callias and Lichas Dad?" the boy hesitated, searching for inspiration and then said in a rush as it came, "they thought they heard a wolf howling near the goat pens so they went to chase it off 3; and they asked me to bring Ocytus in 3; Ocytus lie down on the floor now and Mum can clean your bottom up for you.. If you kneel down I'll help you down the rest of the way 3; You need to lie on your face so Mum can do your bottom 3;"

The sight of the boy fussing over the youth started another train of thought in Misinus's mind and he fell silent. He thought he had a good idea as to why Ocytus' arrival had been so delayed and was not too disturbed by it. Indeed he could see distinct advantages both short and long term if, as he suspected Ayas, and Ocytus had taken a fancy to each other.

In the short term it would make the youth easier to handle and less likely to try to run away. In the long term 3; well there was no getting away from the fact that after they had driven out the Spartans they would still have to live. The farm was not a big one. They would be free of Xionides' demands and that would mean they would get all the produce of the farm for their own use but it would still be a very meagre living for a family of seven. Well six now that Xionedes had taken Caria for his friends to enjoy. Then he wanted to get some things for the farm, a plough with an iron blade, even an ox to draw it and a few more goats.

For all this though he would need money. He had already been thinking about this, turning ideas over in his head and planning. Ocytus from his initial bearing was the son of rich Thebans and they no doubt would be prepared to pay well to have him back. But would it be enough and if it was enough and if it was would it not be helpful to have a little extra cash for unseen contingencies? If Ocytus took a fancy to young Ayas then maybe his parents, in the excitement of getting their son back, would be prepared to buy the boy as a present for him. One of the advantages of freedom would be that he would be able to sell any child of his that was at all attractive, and keep the money for his own use instead of having Xionedes taking the child for his own enjoyment or profit.

He would have preferred of course to have kept Ayas and given him all the benefits that a free boy born of wealthy parents enjoyed. But beggars could not be choosers. He would never be wealthy even if he owned the farm that he now worked under Xionides lordship. If the Gods had blessed him with a pretty boy, and Ayas was very pretty, it was up to him to get the most advantage out of that gift. After all the child's life would be immeasurably easier and softer as some rich man's pampered slave boy than it would be working on the farm.

While Misinus sat pondering in this way his wife, Danas, busied herself tending to Ocytus. The youth lay face down on the ground his legs spread wide as she sponged the congealed filth and blood from his crack.

"Did you scorch the lad's bum?" she suddenly demanded raising her voice to be heard over a muted cry of pain from Ocytus.

"No we didn't do that," the man replied leaving open the question of what he and Callias and Lichas had actually done to Ocytus' bottom though Danas knew what that was perfectly well.

"Maybe the Spartans did it when they captured him," Ayas suggested who was kneeling beside Ocytus' prone body holding an earthenware bowl of steaming water for his mother. He was bound, as every self-respecting boy has been and always will be in every culture and every age, by the rule "you must not tell tales on other boys."

"Most likely," Misinus said letting his lack of interest in so trivial a matter as a scorched slave's bottom clearly show. "They're cruel bastards and they do like their bit of fun."

"It looks more recent than that 3;" Danas began and then broke off as Callias and Lichas appeared at the hovel's doorway.

"Well did you see the wolf?" Misinus demanded.

"The wolf," Callias said momentarily at a loss and then hastily added. "Yes the wolf 3;It was a big one but we scared it off alright 3;"

"What's happened to you two anyway?" Misinus said peering at his two oldest sons in the flickering light of the fire. "It looks as though you've both been in a fight and got the worst of it too."

"I expect they threw stones at the wolf and missed it and hit each other," Ayas suggested helpfully, seeing his older brother was at a loss.

"Yes," Callias said accepting the suggestion eagerly but with no particular signs of gratitude, "an Lichas an me when we catch it, we'll make it suffer. We'll put it on the fire an make it howl."

"You'll have to catch it first," Misinus said yawning. In his experience the boys were always hitting or cutting themselves and it really didn't bother him unless they were so badly injured that they could not do their work.

"Could Ocytus stay in the hut with us?" Ayas asked his father. Sympathy for the youth otherwise condemned to spend the night outside alone in the cold combined with a more selfish feeling that he could do with an ally to protect himself against his brothers' vengeance.

Misinus hesitated and Ayas hurriedly pressed his request.

"It'll help him get strong again for the plough," he wheedled.

"All right then," Misinus replied, "but you're responsible for keeping an eye on him. He'll sleep over in that corner away from the door and it's up to you to sleep near him and wake me if he shows any signs of trying to run away."

Grim, squat and bent from years of toil, Misinus made a very improbable Cupid but that was the roll he was now playing, though for mercenary rather than romantic ends. He felt that the more he could bring Ayas and Ocytus together and the fonder the latter became of the boy, the better the price he could eventually get when he offered to sell his son to the youth.

"Could we take the yoke off him too." Ayas pleaded pushing his chances just a little further, "That'll help as well. He'll be able to sleep better and it'll give his wrists a chance to heel 3; you can see how they're bleeding where the cords bitten into them. All that'll make him stronger and fitter for work 3; and he won't try to run away 3; I'm sure he won't. There's no where for him to run to and anyway he's not strong enough to get far or to attack us while we're asleep."

"He looks a strong enough young brute to me," Misinus said who had been running an apprising eye over Ocytus naked body and had drawn his own conclusions about the lad's potential as a farm hand and a trouble maker. "We'll keep the yoke on him for the time being. He needs another day or so of schooling before he can be trusted out of it."

"Now Ayas your mother has finished cleaning him up; you take him over to that corner and settle him down there. And the rest of you settle down as well. There's a days work to do tomorrow," and the next day and the day after that until we are all dead, he added gloomily to himself.

He watched as Ayas led Ocytus away. He noticed that both of them were showing clear signs of sexual excitement. The contrast between Ayas's small boy's twig like prick and the youths longer broader rod brought a wintry smile to his lips.

"You needn't stretch Ayas's bottom anymore," he murmured to is wife as they lay down together beside the fire on the side away from the door, "just keep it as clean and sweet as you can. The stretching will look after itself."

The children other than Ayas, huddled together in a jumble of half naked limbs on the other side of the fire; Callias and Lichas slightly apart from the others. Every now and again one or the other surreptitiously lifted his head to check whether their parents were asleep and then directed a hard baleful glare at the corner where Ayas and Ocytus lay.

Ayas was aware of being watched by his brothers. He was very frightened. He knew that as soon as they were sure their mother and father were asleep his brothers would grab him, drag him outside where his screams would not be heard and exact their revenge. What exact form that would take he did not know but he knew that with the whole night before them Callias and Lichas would be able to give free reign to their ingenuity and imagination. He had hoped he would have been able to have Ocytus as an ally but with him still tied to the yoke he would be no match for the two other boys.

He lay close to Ocytus, not touching him for he was embarrassed by the other people about him, desperately trying to work out a way of escaping his brothers. He too was keeping a close eye on his parents. Their heads were down, Misinus began to snore. On the other side of the room, by the glow of the dyeing embers of the fire, he could see Callias and Lichas beginning to gather themselves together to launch their assault.

"Ayas, Ayas boy." It was Ocytus whispering urgently. Clearly he too had been watching and had guessed what was likely to happen next. "Untie this yoke. Get it off me. It's your only chance. They'll have you in a minute. I won't run away – I promise. Get it off me before they get over here."

Ayas hesitated. He had asked his father if he might release Ocytus and his father had refused. Misinus was not a man to let direct disobedience pass unpunished. Nor was he a man to lightly defy. If he found out he would be very angry and Ayas knew he would suffer the full weight of that anger. But that was tomorrow. This was now.

Both Lichas and Callias had their heads up staring across at him. There was not a moment to be wasted. He hesitated no longer but got onto his knees and leaning forward began to fumble at the rope securing Ocytus left wrist to the beam, feeling the youth's blood warm and sticky against his own fingers. He found the knot and worked at it.

It was almost free. Lichas and Callias had realized what he was doing. They were getting to their feet. Glancing nervously across to where Misinus and Danas slept they were beginning to move around the embers of the fire.

The cord round Ocytus left wrist fell away. Ayas moved to work on the length of rope securing the youths neck to the yoke.

"No Ayas, no, get my right wrist free. Leave my neck. My right wrist."

Ayas lent across Ocytus feeling the youth's breath against the side of his own chest as he struggled to undo the cord fastening his right wrist to the yoke. He heard his brothers close behind him and just at that moment the cord came free. He was thrown to the ground as Ocytus jumped to his feet. Looking up he saw him turn and face Callias and Lichas. The yoke was still tied to his neck but his arms were free.

The two boys hesitated and then, not liking what they could see began to back away.

"You'll be for it in the morning when Dad sees what you've done," Callias muttered. It was true but it was also an admission of defeat.

Ocytus stood watching the two boys as they slunk away with many backward glances to their places beside the fire, his hands fumbling at the cord securing the yoke to his neck. Ayas scrambled to his feet to help him. Ocytus sixteen years old and well grown was a considerably taller than the little eleven year old. Ayas had to stand close up against the youth and reach upwards to get at the rope. It was the first time that Ocytus had literally been able to get his hands on Ayas and he took full advantage of the opportunity offered him. As the boy struggled to undo the knotted cord Ocytus slid his hands down his back feeling the child's skin cool and silken smooth to his touch.

Please, Ocytus I can't undo the rope if you 3;,"

Ocytus looked down at the Ayas' earnest face, dimly visible in the glow of the fire, and kissed the boy hard on his parted lips. He shifted one hand to the back of the boy's head holding it firm as he thrust his tongue into his mouth. The other hand moved downwards until it cupped the child's rump.

Ayas wriggled ecstatically as a flood of conflicting emotions and sensations overwhelmed him. Ocytus finger tips pressing into the crack of his bottom sent waves of pleasure and excitement causing through his body. At the same time the pressure of the youth's hand against his rump, its flesh still raw and broken, revived the agonies of his earlier flogging. Pain and excitement combined into a turbulent intoxicating mixture that caused Ayas to abandon all attempts at freeing Ocytus' neck from the yoke. He wound his arms around the youth responding to his kiss with fiery enthusiasm.

Ocytus began to lower the boy to the floor but was checked by the yoke. He pushed Ayas roughly away.

"Quick," he ordered sharply, "get this thing off me boy."

For a moment he was angry. He was not used to anything getting in the way of his enjoyment of a slave boy and Ayas, when all was said and done, was only that. It was the boy's task to minister to his betters' pleasures. The slut should have got the thing off him long before so that he did not experience such a check to his appetites.

Ayas sensing Ocytus irritation fumbled nervously at the knot securing the cord. The delay gave Ocytus the opportunity to recover his temper. By the time his neck was free of the yoke he had reminded himself that Ayas was as yet innocent and, if all went well he would have the fun, of schooling the little slut in the skills of a boy whore. For the moment he had to remember that Ayas was ignorant, his only guide the instinctive urge to serve and to please with which every slave was born.

Certainly Ocytus thought, as he drew Ayas down on to the floor beside him, the back of his hand brushing against the boy's stiff little prick, he was showing every sign of being a willing and enthusiastic pupil.

"Callias and Lichas are watching," Ayas protested without too much conviction as Ocytus pulled the boy to him.

"Let them," Ocytus replied, "they're only jealous."

Ayas giggled delightedly at the thought of his exciting his two older brothers envy and offered his lips to be kissed. Thus licensed Ocytus hands roamed "before, behind, between, above below."

"Are you going to fuck me?" Ayas eventually whispered, somewhat breathlessly, with a touch of apprehension in his voice. He had one hand round Ocytus shaft. He found the feel of the hard flesh and the blood pulsing within it strangely exciting but the thought of having it pushed into his bottom was frightening. It was all he could do to get his hand round it. He hated to think what it would feel like to have something that large hammered into him.

"Sometime I will child," Ocytus replied softly, "but not tonight. I'm too sore and tired to do it now."

"My bums pretty sore too," Ayas remarked, relief showing in his voice.

"Really," replied Ocytus he couldn't see what in the world that had to do with matters. He slapped Ayas lightly on the bottom and the boy squeaked an excited protest.

"Besides," Ocytus continued, "we'd probably make too much noise and wake your mother and father doing it. Look what a fuss you make about just a little tap on your bottom and think what a noise you'd make with me getting that up your pretty little bum."

"Will it hurt a lot?" Ayas asked nervously.

"Well I don't know," Ocytus replied easily. "It's never been done to me, except by your father and brothers just now and that was different. It isn't the sort of thing that is done to free boys. [This reflects what appears to have been a common attitude in Ancient Greece and Rome. There was little prejudice against homosexuality or boy love what was considered dishonourable was for a man or boy to take what was called "the passive part" though I don't myself see how it can be regarded as very passive. Indeed in certain Greek cities a free boy who allowed himself to be penetrated became a slave.] It's just slave brats like you that are fucked. All I can say is that most seem to cry or whimper a bit at the beginning, especially if it's the first time, but they're usually eager enough by the end. I expect it'll be the same when I do it to you."

"Now you're talking too much. There are other and better things that you can do with those lips of yours than talking."

Ocytus, kissing the boy on his lips, both silenced him and showed him one of those better things. Then sitting upright and placing both hands on the boy's shoulders he began to manoeuvre the lad steadily down his body to show him a second and even more exciting thing that he could do with them.

Ayas felt the youth's hands on his shoulders pressing him remorselessly downwards. He knew what Ocytus wanted of him. He had heard his elder brothers talking often enough of cock sucking and cock-suckers although he was not at all sure if either of them had ever been required to provide that service. Their Spartan lords after all had many more attractive young boys available to them than Callias and Lichas. Perhaps too there was some truth in Ocytus belief that Ayas as a slave boy had an instinctive knowledge of such matters.

Regretfully but with a feeling of rising excitement he pulled his lips away from Ocytus' mouth. His lips brushed the front of the youth's still hairless chest. He twisted side ways so that he was kneeling beside Ocytus. Momentarily he explored Ocytus belly button with the tip of his tongue. Then he turned his head to look downwards. His nostrils were filled with the animal odours of Ocytus' body a mixture of stale sweat together now, as his nose was so close to his crutch, with faeces.

He could see Ocytus' cock jutting imperiously upwards it's swollen pink helmet only a couple of inches from his face. He felt a moment of repulsion. Was he to take that thing, the thing through which Ocytus' peed, into his mouth?

Then he felt a twinge almost of shame. He should he felt in a confused sort of way, that he only half understood himself, be grateful that it existed. It provided a means of his pleasing Ocytus, who had defied the Spartans even when a captive and had saved him from his brothers' vengeance. To show his remorse and gratitude he lowered his head and kissed the rod of throbbing purple veined flesh on it's side, feeling the coarse hair of the youth's bush against his cheek.

Ocytus rested his hand on Ayas raised rump. The tip of his index finger teased the lips of the boy's anus. Ayas moaned softly, responding to Ocytus touch by pushing his bottom back, inviting further penetration.

Ayas ran his tongue along the slit at the tip of Ocytus cock and then he took it between his lips. He felt Ocytus place his other hand on the back of his head.

"Be careful with your teeth," Ocytus commanded softly and pushed sharply downwards driving the full length of his prick into Ayas's mouth so that its tip was lodged in the back of the boy's throat. Ayas gagged. Panic gripped him. Blood roared in his head and he thought he was about to suffocate.

"Swallow it," Ocytus ordered relaxing for a second his pressure on the boy's head before driving it down once again on his bloated rod. Again and again he repeated the process, working the boy's mouth and lips up and down the full length of his prick with increasing violence and urgency. Ayas managed to time his breathing better. He gained in confidence even bringing his tongue into play to further excite Ocytus' passions. Ocytus hand fell from the boy's head as the youth surrendered himself to his lust. Ayas now needed no urging as he laboured with aching jaws to bring Ocytus to a crisis. Then Ocytus prick erupted, sending jets of cum deep into the boy's throat. Ayas’ mouth filled with warm slightly metallic tasting liquid. The boy spluttered spewing semen over the front of Ocytus stomach.

"You should have swallowed the stuff," Ocytus said grumpily. "Look what a mess you have made."

But then a few seconds later he relented.

"You weren't bad for a first timer though," he remarked in a more kindly tone, pulling Ayas up so that his face was level with his own. He kissed the boy on his lips.

"What shall we do about the yoke," Ayas asked anxiously.

"You'll have to tie it back on me early tomorrow before anyone else is awake," Ocytus said and kissed him again.

Ayas was woken by a sharp pain in his side. He blinked his eyes open to see Misinus standing over him with Callias and Lichas standing grinning broadly behind him. At that moment another kick thudded painfully into his ribcage.

"I told you not to take the yoke off the slave," Misinus shouted furiously. "I'll teach you to disobey me."

Ayas realized that he had not woken in time.

Chapter 7

Ayas twisted over onto his face and gathering his feet under him dived for the door. He was not quick enough to avoid a hefty boot up his bottom that lifted him momentarily clear of the ground before depositing him on his hands and knees in the dirt outside the hut. He crawled to one side of the yard and huddled down in the shelter of the low dry stone wall, hugging himself in a vain attempt to keep warm. Tears trickled down his face. He knew that if his father kept to his word he would die. He would not survive long outside the protection, rough and limited though it was, of his family. Hunger and cold would soon finish him. He would lie down in the shelter of some rock or bush and die. Perhaps though the wolves would get to him before that. He thought of a goat that he had come across, still half-alive, it's body horribly torn by the wolves and the tears came faster. He knew it was hopeless to look for help elsewhere. No other Helot family would take him in. All were driven so hard and lived so close to the margin that they could not take on the burden of an additional mouth, especially of a small boy with very little work in him. As for the Spartans they would simply turn him over to his Lord Xionedes. The wolves would be preferable to that.

He did not cry only for himself. He wept also for his father. Harsh and sometimes cruel though he was Ayas loved the man. To most Misinus was a stunted creature, his mind and body deformed by his years of labour, muddy, dull, sour and bitter like the soil he worked. Ayas saw him though as a hero who would bring the Helots freedom at last. In a half understood way the boy saw that that heroism was increased by the very things that the world despised about his father and indeed his people, their poverty and their current servitude. The boy's ambition was to win his father's approval. In his imagination he would join his father when the moment came for the rising in fighting the Spartans and killing them by the dozen, beginning with the hated Xionedes.

Now though all that was at an end and through his own selfishness. He should not have freed Ocytus from the yoke whatever dangers faced him personally. He should have suffered whatever cruelties his two elder brothers cared to have inflicted on him rather than to have done that. Freeing the youth had endangered the whole family. Ocytus had said he would not try to escape but how could he have been certain that he was speaking the truth? Ayas knew that the youth once his hands were free could easily have strangled him and then attacked the rest of his family in their sleep. Probably he would not have managed to kill them all but he could have done considerable damage before he was overpowered. Perhaps killed one of his brothers, or his father himself, for surely the youth would go for the man first hoping to dispose of the strongest while he was asleep.

Of course Ocytus did not try to escape but that was sheer luck. He could easily have done so if he had so wished. Instead he had 3;

Ayas began to think of the things Ocytus had done. He remembered the touch of the youth's hands on his own body, the feel and taste of his swollen rod between his lips. Despite the boy's misery his cock began to stir and harden.

Meanwhile inside the hut Misinus was continuing to reassert his authority. Having disposed of Ayas he turned his attention to Ocytus.

"Well you've had a comfortable night but I'll see that you have a miserable day," he stormed furiously. "Get me the yoke."

He reinforced his order by clouting the youth on the side of the head. Ocytus wisely made no effort to ward off the blow. Slightly dizzy from the blow he stumbled off to fetch the yoke. Kneeling at Misinus' feet he offered it to him and then stretched his arms out humbly ready to have it fixed across his neck and shoulders. Only then did he dare to speak.

"Lord," he said and stealing a glance at Misinus he saw a fleeting smile twitch the corners of his grimly set lips. Reflecting on how strange and fortunate it was that even the miserable and oppressed were cheered when they came across someone more unfortunate than themselves he hurried on. "Lord, I am strong. Let me work for you Lord rather than wear the yoke. You would get the benefit of a good days work out of me Lord and I would be spared the yoke."

Ocytus kneeling in apparent humility at the Helot's feet stole another upward glance. He saw the corners of Misinus' mouth twitch again and knew he was near to gaining his point.

Misinus looked down at the kneeling youth and felt a surge of pride and satisfaction. To have a freeborn boy kneel to him, acknowledging his mastery, was deeply satisfying. He would not have been so pleased had he known that Ocytus felt not the slightest shame or humiliation. So far as Ocytus was concerned Misinus was so far beneath him, a being of such total insignificance, that he simply didn't count. Kneeling in front of him, calling him 'Lord' was all play-acting, not to be taken seriously, in fact rather a joke, although he was careful not to let his amusement show. He didn't want to get kicked on the side of the head by the stupid oaf.

"Work?" Misinus growled. "Well stand up boy and let me have a look at you. Let's see how much work you really have in you."

Ocytus rose to his feet being careful to keep his hands down by his sides. He stood in front of Misinus, his head bowed in apparent humility, making no attempt to cover his nakedness. Misinus moved so close to him that he could smell the stale odour of the man's body.

"Well you're a sturdy enough young animal," Misinus remarked prodding the youth in the thigh with his fore-finger, "Now get some food. You'll need all the strength you've got if you're to work for me."

Ocytus instead of muttering his thanks and hurrying to join the crowd round the communal bowl as Misinus expected dropped back to his knees.

"Lord," he pleaded, "forgive the boy, please. Punish him for his disobedience but forgive him and let him back into your family."

Misinus scowled fiercely. He was pleased that Ocytus cared so much for Ayas that he would risk pleading for him. It showed that his plan to make money from restoring the youth to his family and then selling the boy to him was going to work. He was careful though to hide his pleasure and indeed to hide that Ocytus was only asking him to do what he had always intended.

He certainly wasn't going to permanently drive away a boy that with luck and cunning could be turned into real money. Nor though was he going to allow Ayas to get away with direct disobedience to his instructions. The boy had to be punished savagely not only to ensure that in future he did what he was told but also to maintain Misinus' own authority.

Misinus had seen too many men in his time as they grew old and their strength waned shouldered to one side by their own sons. He was under no illusions when the time came, when he could no longer maintain his hold on the family, Callias would take the opportunity to supplant him. Maybe the first time, or even the second time, Callias challenged him he would be able to beat the younger man into submission with his fists. There would come a day though when they would fight and at the end it would be Callias who would remain standing. He would then have to crawl off into some corner of the hut, banished for ever from the place of privilege next to the fire, dependent for his very food and shelter on the charity and kindness of his eldest son and he knew enough of Callias to know that that those would be very limited. That day would no doubt come in time but that time was not yet and Misinus was resolved that it should be delayed as long as possible. Ayas was going to be beaten and beaten hard both to punish the boy and to warn the others that his authority was not lightly to be challenged.

He betrayed none of these thoughts or calculations to Ocytus. He simply clouted him hard with his fist on the side of his head, knocking him sprawling sideways on the ground.

"Go and get some food as I told you boy," Misinus growled kicking the youth in the ribs, "and don't interfere in what does not concern you."

"Yes Lord, sorry Lord," Ocytus whined.

'What a fool that oaf of a Helot is,' he thought to himself as he jostled Callias out of the way so he could get at the food in the bowl, 'to be deceived by such nonsense as that. Still I hope he does forgive Ayas. He's a pretty little tart and it'd be a pity if he got eaten by the wolves or anything before I've had a chance to fuck that tight little bottom of his.'

Misinus seated himself beside the fire and balancing his bowl on his knees began to eat. He was well pleased with the way things were going for all he saw was the outward appearance of things, a frightened young slave pleading with him to forgive his own son. He had no idea that Ocytus fortified by his own arrogance regarded all Helots as little better than animals and Ayas simply as a mere toy; pretty enough and useful for passing the time during his period of servitude but to be discarded once that was over or if a more attractive brat came along.

Unaware that his plan was built on foundations of sand Misinus, as he ate, turned over in his mind ways of punishing Ayas and at the same time of encouraging Ocytus' interest in the boy. The youth he reasoned must like the boy. He had seen evidence of that himself. He had found them asleep in each other's arms and he had noticed a telltale smear of some dried fluid about Ayas' lips. Ocytus must also be grateful to the boy. That stood to reason. Had not Ayas released the youth from the yoke against his own father's commands?

It seemed to Misinus that the two went together very well. The more savagely he flogged Ayas for his disobedience the more grateful Ocytus should feel for the boy's action. While nobody knew better than himself the stimulating effect that the spectacle of a pretty boy suffering under the lash had on the emotions of those witnessing the child's sufferings.

There was more to it than that though. To encourage feelings of gratitude in Ocytus breast it would only be necessary to make the boy suffer and to ensure that suffering was both audible and visible. Nothing more was needed than for him to follow his usual routine when beating one of his boys; order the brat down across the flogging block and then lay into his naked rump and shoulders with his belt. The crack of leather against bare skin, the howls of the brat as the punishment progressed and the sight of the livid welts raised by the strap across the boy's tender hide would be enough to excite feelings of pity. For that mere brutality would be sufficient. However Misinus knew that to rely on brutality alone was to miss an opportunity. The boy's thrashing was an opportunity to arouse Ocytus’ lust as well as his pity and to excite the former cruelty had to be embellished with artistry and imagination.

There were practical considerations that also made Misinus feel that a simple hard flogging with his belt was probably unwise on this occasion. Ayas' back had been thoroughly bloodied when he had beaten the boy at the behest of Xionedes. A further basting with the belt would flay the already tender and broken skin from the child's rump and shoulders leaving the brat permanently marked. That would matter little in the normal course of events. No one was surprised to see a Helot boy's back ribbed with weals from old beatings. But it was Misinus' intention to sell Ayas and marking the child might well lower his value.

On the other hand Misinus realised his time was limited. He had the farm to tend. He could not waste time on designing some long drawn out and complicated torment for his young son. Fortunately he had something that met his requirements immediately to hand. Licking the remnants of the bean stew from his fingers he rose to his feet. The chatter of the children immediately died away. The only sound in the single roomed hovel was the crackling of the fire in the central hearth and the sound of his own footfalls as he walked across to the open door. Stooping he picked up the cane that rested against the wall. About a metre and a half long, finely tapered with it's end split and bound with cord made from goat's ligament to give it extra bite, it commanded fear and respect from those whose naked bottoms had felt its searing touch.

"You're going to use that on Ayas?" Callias burst out excitement and pleasure in his voice.

Misinus nodded grimly.

"Yes and I will need your help. Come," and Misinus led the way out of the hut.

As he walked he swung the cane testing its weight and suppleness. He did not often use the cane. His punishments being usually brief brutal interludes in the daily grind of work, designed to do no more than to enforce obedience or to exact the last ounce of effort from an exhausted and half starved boy. For these his belt was the natural tool being ready to hand and needing no particular skill to apply. It was also an efficient enough instrument for achieving those ends but the belt is to the cane what the carving knife is to the surgeon's scalpel. The first needs little more than a strong arm to wield effectively the second requires a steady hand, a true eye and imagination and skill to be used to the best effect. Then too there is something about a boy's bottom, with its tight curves and dimpled sides, which seems to invite the cane. The two in a way appear to be made for each other. The cane is 'right' in the way the belt is not.

These truths Misinus felt rather than thought.

He glanced round and saw Ayas huddled, naked and shivering, in the shelter of the yard wall. He beckoned the child to him. He felt his blood quicken as the excitement rose within him. "It is fortunate," he reflected, "that I enjoy beating the boy."

Ayas rose to his feet and began reluctantly to make his way across to where his father stood swishing the cane impatiently. He saw the cane and knew that this meant that he was not after all going to be driven out of the family. He knew he should feel grateful for that but all he could think of was the pain he was going to suffer when the rod began to tear at his already well flayed bum. His father appeared to be standing a very long way away. His legs felt stiff and he seemed to have difficulty in breathing. By the time he reached Misinus he was sobbing with fear.

"Well Ayas," his father said grimly, "I have decided to give you a second chance and not to send you away."

Ayas struggled to say something but managed only a strangled sob.

"You don't seem to be too happy about my decision. I thought you would be pleased and even a little grateful. If you prefer to take your chances with the cold and the wolves of course you can 3;"

Callias threw back his head and howled like a wolf before he and Lichas dissolved into heartless laughter.

The implied threat loosened Ayas' tongue.

"No please no I want to stay please 3;" he whimpered.

"I thought you would," Misinus said smiling grimly. "But Ayas you have been disobedient. You know that don't you boy?"

Ayas gulped and nodded tears streaming down his face. Misinus' right hand moved sharply as he brought the cane cracking down across the front of the boy's shins, wrenching a squeal of pain from the boy and scoring a deep red line across his nut-brown skin.

"That's not good enough Ayas. I want to hear you say it."

"Yes Father, I have been disobedient," the boy's voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"And you have to be punished for it don't you Ayas?"

"Yes Father 3; I have to be punished," Ayas sobbed.

"So I am going to thrash you Ayas to make you a better more obedient boy, a boy who deserves to have a family and a home. You ought to be grateful to me for taking the trouble on your behalf." Again Misinus paused threateningly.

"I am Father 3; I know I did wrong Father 3; I'm sorry 3;," the boy whimpered incoherently.

"And now Ayas I am going to give you reason to feel grateful. Callias come here and bend forward. Ayas up on his back quickly now."

Misinus stepped to one side as the two boys obediently took up their positions. He noticed that Callias' cock like his own was swollen rigid with excitement.

He glanced quickly behind him and saw that his excitement was also shared by Lichas. Danas of course showed no such obvious signs of excitement but there was a glitter in her eyes and a half smile on her face that suggested she too was not unmoved by the prospect of witnessing her young son being thrashed. More importantly though Ocytus, standing slightly behind the others as befitted a slave, was staring wide-eyed at the developing scene in a state of extreme sexual arousement. Misinus gazed for a moment at the sixteen-year-old’s swollen member, standing full to attention, it's tip rising just short of his belly button.

He nodded quietly to himself. It seemed that all his plans were working out well. He had considered having Ocytus horse the boy but had decided that the youth's lusts would be more excited by watching this part of Ayas' flogging rather than taking an active part in it. Later though he would be more directly involved.

He turned back to find Ayas now firmly horsed on his eldest brother's shoulders. Looking at the boy's slender frame he wondered momentarily how he would fare when the time came for Ocytus to penetrate him. He reminded himself how supple were young sinews and bones and how quickly and cleanly torn young flesh and skin healed. No doubt the child would manage well enough.

Chapter 8

Misinus rested his hand on the back of one bare thigh, feeling the boy shrink at his touch. Ayas skin was cool against the palm of his hand. He noticed that fear had roughened the child's normally smooth skin with goose pimples. The boy's bottom was still raw from his last beating. Danas had washed and dressed his rump so there was no blood but it was a mass of purple and dark blue bruises ribbed with angry deep red stripes. He moved his hand upwards until it reached the point where the boy's brown skin was disfigured by a greenish yellow tinge as the underlying bruising came out. He paused and then slid his hand a fraction higher so that it was resting on the top of Ayas' bottom.

This was the area where the belt had done the most damage and this part of the child looked more like a lump of raw meat on a butcher's slab than the tight, sweetly curved, boy's bottom that had set Ocytus heart racing when he first caught a glimpse of it. Ayas whimpered in expectation of what was to come.

Misinus realised that he would have to be careful or he would finish up marking Ayas permanently. To set against this the suffering inflicted on the boy by even a few strokes across his bottom would be considerable. It would be like cutting with the cane at an open wound. A beating should hurt and this one would most certainly do that. He deliberately clenched his hand digging his fingertips hard into the boy's already tortured flesh. Ayas yelped in pain and Misinus smiled grimly at this confirmation of his thoughts.

"That's nothing to what you're going to get," he said and landed a hard open handed smack on Ayas' sore rump, extorting a further howl from the boy. He took a step back and began to set himself to flog the brat in earnest.

Measuring the distance carefully he laid the cane across the top of Ayas' bottom. The boy shivered and tensed at the touch, exaggerating the dimples on either side of his bum. Misinus lifted the cane back over his right shoulder. He paused, looking down at Ayas naked and utterly vulnerable, his slight frame frozen in terror, and then, gritting his teeth, he brought the cane down with all the strength he could muster across the boy's defenceless rump. The whistle of the cane as it descended was followed by the sharp and unmistakable crack of wood striking firm young flesh. Callias staggered forward under the weight of the blow. Ayas' feet jerked upwards as the pain convulsed his body. The sharp snap of the cane against bare tightly stretched skin was followed by a brief moment of total silence as Ayas fought for breath and then he screamed shrilly.

Misinus stood waiting till the boy was still again. There was no hurry. He wanted to be sure that Ayas, so far as possible would experience the terror and pain of each succeeding stroke as vividly and as acutely as he had done the first. He noticed that the visible effect of the cane's impact on the child's already raw and bruised bottom was different from when it was striking more virgin territory. Usually a white line would appear as the force of the blow drove the blood away from the point of impact. This would turn an angry red when the blood flooded back into the affected area that deepened at its edges as the bruising developed to purple and dark blue. Now though the cane, biting into flesh that was already deeply discoloured by bruising, seemed to score an immediate crimson slash across the boy's cruelly savaged skin. A line from which blood welled and trickled down the brat's bottom.

Observing this Misinus recognised he would need to take more precautions or the boy's bottom would be so damaged that not even Danas' skill and potions would allow it to heal cleanly. Above all he would have to guard against laying one stroke across or over another for to do so would be to carve too deep.

It is not easy to deliver a cut of the cane with force and accuracy even on an inanimate object. When the target is a small screaming boy, whose body twists and jerks as the thrashing proceeds it becomes immeasurably more difficult. This is especially so if the victim is, as Ayas was, mounted on the shoulders of another boy who is liable to be thrown off balance by the contortions of his unwilling rider and the force of the blows.

Misinus stood a moment or two considering the problem while Ayas sobbed quietly waiting, trembling and sick with terror, for the next stripe. Misinus glanced at Ocytus. It was clear that the spectacle of Ayas' suffering had had its desired effect on the youth. He stood his whole attention concentrated on the boy, his eyes glinting, a small stream of saliva trickling down his chin from his parted lips, his cock now so swollen that it seemed it was in imminent danger of exploding. Misinus decided that the time had come to involve him in the boy's punishment. What was more Ocytus was a strong lad and would play his part well.

"You," Misinus ordered, "Come here. Take hold of Ayas' ankles and hold him steady for me."

Ocytus, who had assisted in and indeed had suffered such punishments in the past, knew exactly what was required. Stooping down he took a firm grip of a slim ankle in each hand. Then he straightened and with his hands down on each side of his hips moved backwards. The blood drummed loudly in his head as he looked down at Ayas' firm young body stretched between Callias and himself. Viewed from where he stood the boys slightly parted legs afforded intriguing glimpses of the most intimate and exciting recesses of the child's body.

Misinus once again raised the cane over his shoulder. Ayas, sensing his father's movement, struggled wildly to escape. Ocytus, fighting to control the boy's flailing legs, could see Callias in his turn struggling to keep Ayas firmly lodged on his back. The child was screaming even before the rod began it's descent. Ocytus, fascinated, watched the cane as Misinus brought it slashing down across his young son's already battered rump. It bit into the boy's raw flesh drawing blood instantly. Where the rod's tip curled round to nip the side of Ayas' bottom with added force a spray of tiny red droplets glittered in the air.

Misinus, grunting with effort, laid stripe upon stripe across the squirming boy's bottom, the cries of the child in its agony rising over the rich sibilant hiss of the rod as it fell and the sharp crack of wood striking naked flesh. Ocytus lost count of the strokes as the cane carved bloody slashes across Ayas' rump. By the time Misinus had done the boy's bottom was a mass of bleeding weals. He stood for a moment looking down at the child's ravaged bottom.

"All right," Misinus said once he had recovered his breath, "you can let go of the brat now."

Released from the two youths' grip Ayas collapsed onto his hands and knees on the ground between them. He crouched there sobbing loudly.

Misinus turned his gaze on Ocytus. The youth's chest glistened with sweat, from the effort of holding Ayas' body steady for the cane. Misinus noticed that a bead of moisture had formed at the tip of Ocytus rampant cock.

"You," Misinus flicked Ocytus across the front of his thigh with the tip of the cane, "Get the boy up. I want him facing me with his feet off the ground so I can finish thrashing him."

At these words Ayas, who had thought his punishment was over, wailed loudly sending Callias and Lichas into paroxysms of gleeful laughter.

Ocytus bending forward and slipping his arms beneath Ayas' locked his hands behind the boy's neck. Straightening he lifted the child's feet clear of the floor. He could feel Ayas bottom, damp and warm with fresh blood, pressing against his crutch. Ocytus adjusted the boy so that his erect cock was comfortably arranged lying long the cleft of the brat's rump.

"Turn him to face me," Misinus ordered.

Misinus transferred the cane to his left hand. He reached out, laying his free hand on the side of Ayas chest, feeling the fragile ribs under the tightly stretched skin and the wild fluttering of the young boy's heart. Misinus forgot his own servitude as he revelled in his consciousness of his total power over the child.

"There is nothing, nothing at all, that is denied me," Misinus told himself the blood roaring in his head. "Nothing that I cannot do to he child."

Ayas caught sight of his father's face and began to sob in terror at what he saw there. A stream of amber fluid jetted from his tiny prick to form a damp steaming patch on the bare earth.

"Ayas has peed himself," Callias shouted in derision. "Little baby Ayas has peed himself," and he and Lichas went off into further hoots of laughter.

"Filthy little brute," Misinus, on whom some of Ayas' urine had splashed, said angrily. The two boys fell suddenly silent. They did not want Misinus to think they were laughing at him. It was safe enough to jeer at Ayas but their father was a very different matter.

Misinus smiled grimly. He wanted to be feared by his family. It was the only way he knew of maintaining his authority over them. Certainly it was the easiest way to do so. Perhaps with Callias in particular it was the only way. He turned his attention back to tormenting Ayas. The more he made the boy suffer the more he would be feared by the others. It was an effective and he had to admit, enjoyable way of keeping his family in order.

He moved his hand across the child's narrow chest until he felt a small hard boy's nipple against his palm. He took it between his finger and thumb.

"Father, please, please don't 3;," Ayas began, his broken pleadings turning into a gasp of pain as Misinus tightened his grip and twisted.

Ocytus moaned but with pleasure not pain, as the boy writhed in his grasp. The child's bare rump pressed and wriggling against his own already throbbing cock raised his excitement to new heights of intensity. Ocytus realised that every pain induced contortion of the boy's body would create a reciprocal but opposite increase in his own emotions. He wondered how long he would manage to postpone the inevitable explosion.

Misinus released his grip on Ayas' nipple. He stepped back hefting the cane, feeling its move in his hand almost like a life creature eager to strike and tear. He looked at the two boy's facing him, one a youth on the verge of manhood, his face drained of expression, eyes blank with lust, the other a child in a state of abject terror. He knew very well the effect that Ayas' pain induced contortions were having on Ocytus. It amused him to think that he was masturbating his youthful slave at the same time as he thrashed his son.

Suddenly he lashed the cane hard across Ayas' chest. The boy's mouth opened in a soundless scream and he drew up his knees in a reflex reaction to the pain tearing through his body. Misinus saw Ocytus face twist in a lust induced rictus as this movement simultaneously pressed the boy's bottom even harder into his crutch and widened the cleft along which his swollen cock rode.

Misinus waited until Ocytus had regained temporary control of himself and then brought the cane cracking down once more across the boy's chest. The tip of the cane curled round the side of the child's rib cage and nipping the tightly stretched skin, drawing blood. Again the boy's knees jerked upwards bringing Ocytus yet nearer to the moment of crisis.

Misinus cut and cut again at the screaming, writhing boy. He took little care to lay the strokes parallel or to avoid cross cutting. Ayas chest had not been, unlike his bum, subjected to a savage earlier flogging. Misinus knew that it would be well within Danas' capacity to repair any damage that he was capable in these circumstances of inflicting on their son's chest. He concentrated therefore on stoking the fires of Ocytus lust and let the stripes accumulate pretty well as they would across his son's ribs and stomach.

Soon the front and sides of the boy's upper body were disfigured with angry welts raised by the crop. Blood trickled from where the rod had torn the child's skin forming dark red rivulets over the deeply tanned skin of his chest and flanks. Suddenly Ocytus head jerked back, his eyes glazed and his body arched. He thrust forward, jetting his seed along the cleft of Ayas' bottom to spill over the small of the boy's back, forming a warm sticky seal between their two bodies.

"Danas," Misinus commanded his wife, "see to the boy. You, Ocytus stay here till she takes him from you. The rest of you 3; we've got work to do."

Ocytus was left alone with the boy as Danas ducked into the hut to prepare her lotions and Misinus led the rest of the family out to the fields. He was still standing with his arms hooked under Ayas' shoulders his hands locked behind the boy's neck. Suddenly he was aware that his shoulders were aching from the effort of bearing Ayas' full weight, slight though the boy was. He lowered the child till his feet were touching the ground taking some of the weight off his own arms. He stood like that for a little time listening to the sound of Danas bustling about inside the hut while Ayas whimpered quietly to himself.

Ocytus began to feel a rising irritation with the boy's sobbing. He should, Ocytus thought, have taken his beating better than that, severe though it was. Then he reminded himself that the brat was only a Helot whelp. Nothing better could be expected of such a creature. A freeborn boy would scorn to cry at such a thrashing. Nothing of the sort could be expected of Ayas. Born a Helot he naturally lacked the courage and pride that would allow, indeed require, him to bear his punishment stoically. If the brat was to be hushed and the nuisance of his sobbing stopped it would have to be by petting, as you would any other hurt and frightened little animal, rather than an appeal to his pride, of which he had none.

Furthermore, cowardly snivelling slut though Ayas was, Ocytus was intensely aware that he was also a pretty and a hot one. Danas was still busy in the hut, Misinus and the rest of the family were out of sight working somewhere on the fields. Ocytus who was a vigorous young sixteen-year-old with all the animal passions of the species was already beginning to feel his blood stir again.

Supporting Ayas with one arm around his shoulders Ocytus bent and slipping his other arm behind the boy's knees lifted him so that he was cradled against his chest. He looked down at the child and smiled. He found the brat's face, distorted by pain and distress, to be both comical and strangely arousing. Tears glinted in the boy's eyes and had wet and stained his cheeks. Mucus dribbled from his nose. The corners of his mouth were twisted downwards in a grimace of misery and distress. At some time during his flogging he had in his agony bitten into his lower lip. A slick, formed of snot, blood and saliva, glistened damply on his chin.

Ocytus bent down and kissed the boy on his mouth. Ayas responded with fierce intensity as he sought from Ocytus the love and comfort that his father had denied him. Twisting in the youth's arms he locked his arms about his neck. Ocytus cock hardened yet again as he slipped his tongue between the child's open lips.

"Bring him in here now," Danas was standing in the doorway of the hut.

Chapter 9

He was not particularly embarrassed at being caught kissing Ayas by the brat's mother nor by his own erect cock. The woman was a Helot and what else did she expect if she, somehow or other, managed to produce a good-looking boy?

Danas' next words showed that he had read the situation correctly.

"Put him down on his knees. I don't want any dirt getting in the open cuts before I dress them and then get out. I can see you have plenty of energy. I don't know how you boys manage it. You can work it off in the fields, not playing with Ayas. Now get along with you."

The woman's voice was amused rather than angry. Indeed Danas took it as rather a compliment that Ocytus had taken a fancy to her son. After all he had been born free and would no doubt be free again soon. She had been told by Misinus of his plans to make money from restoring Ocytus to his parents and selling Ayas and heartily approved of them. She was as aware as anybody of the difference even a small amount of money would make to their lives once they had shaken off the Spartan tyranny. It would be ungrateful to the Gods that had blessed them with a pretty boy not to sell the child for the best price they could get.

Grinning broadly Ocytus slipped from the hut and began to make his way to the fields. He did not of course know Misinus' plan to make money out of him and Ayas. He sensed however that, though still lowly, his standing with his master and his family had improved and that his friendship with the boy would at least be tolerated.

The latter was confirmed when returning from the fields at dusk he found a very sore little boy already curled up half asleep in the corner of the hut that he and Ayas had made their own the previous evening. After jostling with Callias and the other children for a share of the watery barley porridge that formed their evening meal he stretched himself on the ground beside Ayas.

He waited until the fire burnt down leaving the hut in almost total darkness before placing his hand on one small bare hip. Ayas whimpered quietly. No doubt Ocytus thought he had touched an open sore. The state the brat was in it would have been hard to avoid doing so, even if he had taken the trouble to try.

Satisfied the boy was awake Ocytus put a hand behind his head and gently but firmly guided the child's face down into his crutch.

"I'm sore. Do I have to?" Ayas whined.

Ocytus did not bother to reply but maintained the pressure on the back of the boy's head. Of course Ayas had to. He had a need and it was the brat's task to satisfy it. The slut Ocytus thought, as the boy's lips closed about his cock, had much to learn. It would be fun teaching him.

The next night and many following nights Ocytus was in no fit state to teach Ayas anything. Misinus had plans for Ocytus' future that required the youth to be returned to his family in reasonable condition but that did not mean that he was not going to have to earn his keep. Ocytus ended his first day between the shafts of the plough with his shoulders deeply galled by the traces, his back bloodied by the goad and his legs and flanks caked with mud. The only thing Misinus spared him was the hot iron for, effective though that was in extracting the last ounce of strength from an exhausted slave, it left a permanent mark. After Danas had done her best to dress Ocytus' cuts it was all he could do to crawl away to his corner of the hut.

All things though come to an end and eventually the ploughing was completed. There was still plenty of work to do, there was never a time on the farm when there was not, but it was lighter work than ploughing and Ocytus had time and energy to take Ayas in hand. He still postponed the penetration of the boy for he knew that the cries of the child, if he did so inside the hut, would rouse Misinus. He made no attempt to hide his affection for the boy and this did not seem to disturb the man. However there was a great difference between quietly petting a boy in a corner of a dark hut and ramming your cock into the child's virgin bottom. Ocytus was not at all sure what Misinus' reaction would be if he was woken by his son's frantic screaming as he ploughed the child's rump. He made it clear however to the boy that his enjoyment of his bottom was merely postponed not permanently foregone. News that never failed to frighten and excite the child, prompting nervous queries as to whether it would hurt a lot and pleas that he should be gentle. It amused Ocytus to note that the boy did not appear to be reassured by his promise that when the day came he would be allowed a piece of wood to bite on so as to help him to stifle his cries.

Meanwhile Ocytus concentrated in developing Ayas' skills as a cock-sucker and he had to admit that the boy was an apt and eager pupil. In the dark corner of the hovel, the only light the dimly glowing embers of the dying fire, night after night Ayas brought the youth to the point of orgasm and beyond. Ayas would lie still beside his lover, his body aching for Ocytus touch, waiting in the darkness, listening, knowing that when the other children had stopped whispering and the only sound was that of his father's snores and the rustling of the wind in the thatch, Ocytus would reach out and draw him to him. Then he would go to him eagerly; locking his arms about the youth's neck, seeking for and finding his lips, Ocytus tongue shooting snake like into his mouth. For a time they would lie there, feasting on each other's lips while Ocytus' hands caressed and probed his body. Then a pat on the bottom, a light touch on the shoulder or a whispered command and Ayas would break the embrace. He would work his way down the youth's body, his lips nuzzling first Ocytus' neck, then his chest. If the opportunity was allowed him he would pause to tease a nipple or explore Ocytus' belly button with his tongue. Ocytus' hand, pressing down on the top of his head, would guide it downwards till his lips brushed against the small forest of coarse hair that the youth's crutch.

Sometimes Ocytus would spread his legs and raise his knees giving Ayas access to the sensitive skin behind his balls. The boy's nostrils would be filled with musty animal odours as he licked and nuzzled there.

What Ayas liked best though were the occasions when Ocytus steered him to one side so that he had to kneel beside the youth, his face buried in his crutch, his bum lifted high in the air. Then, while he sucked on the youth's swollen rod, Ocytus would rest a hand on the curve of his raised bottom causing Ayas to shiver with anticipation before running his finger nail along the boy's open crack and gently probing the entry to his hole. Ocytus finger tip working inside him raised in Ayas' mind premonitions of the time, not too far distant he was sure, when his body would suffer a considerably more extensive and painful invasion.

That time had not yet come and, as Ayas awaited it with tremulous excitement, he did his best to please his hero and lover with his mouth. For Ocytus was his lover in the sense that he, Ayas, had given his heart to him. He was not to know that to Ocytus in his arrogance he was no more than a boy whore to be enjoyed and then, when something better offered, to be discarded.

Ocytus cock was not the tool of a full-grown man. It was not as large as Misinus' massive prick or Xionedes cruelly curved tool but it was still a formidable mouthful for an eleven year old boy to manage. Ayas had learnt to take it's full length into his mouth and down into the back of his throat. He had learnt to use his throat, his tongue and his lips to massage and excite the throbbing rod of swollen flesh that filled his mouth. His fingers and hands too would not be idle, roaming the youth's body, teasing and caressing as opportunity offered. He had learnt as well to sense, from the tensing of his thigh muscles and sudden movements of his balls as well as the surging of blood within his distended member, the moment when Ocytus was approaching climax. When he spotted this he would deliberately slow the pace of his exertions as he tried to delay the moment of crisis, extending Ocytus lust induced ecstasy for as long as possible.

Ayas found in the gasps and broken cries of Ocytus as he approached his delayed orgasm confirmation that the youth returned his love. Ocytus thought only a tart could be so good at sucking cock.

The days and weeks passed. The storms and cold of winter were replaced by the warmth of the Mediterranean spring. The sun warmed the freshly tilled soil and the corn so laboriously sown began to sprout. There was work still to do on the land, there was always work to do, but it was a little less urgent and less concentrated.

Ayas' days were spent guarding the sprouting corn from marauding birds and straying goats. It was lonely, tedious work but not exhausting. He normally took up his station at the top of the cornfield. He would squat there with a supply of throwing stones ready to hand rising to his feet occasionally to hurl a rock at any bird who dared to land on the field. At the far end of the field, beyond a narrow stretch of golden sand, the sea glittered in the strong sunlight. In the heat of the day the sight of the cool water lapping the beach presented a continual temptation to the all but naked eleven-year-old as he crouched, seeking shelter from the blistering sun, in the shadow of the dry stone wall. A temptation that he did not succumb to however for the memory of his thrashing remained very clear in his mind and he was not going to risk incurring his father's anger again.

It was the end of May and Ayas was feeling rather pleased with himself. A skilful, or perhaps lucky, throw had hit a crow and the black feathered carcass of the bird was lying beside him on the ground. It would make a welcome addition, carrion though it was, to the family stew pot. Ayas glanced up at the sun trying to judge how much longer he had to endure the boredom of his task and even more importantly how soon he could return to the hut and get something to eat. The sun was almost directly overhead. He had more than half the day to go. He settled back in the narrow strip of shade that was all the wall now offered by way of shelter from the sun and began to daydream. He was back at the hut his mother was exclaiming excitedly at the dead crow, his father was praising his kill as a stone thrower, Ocytus was looking at him admiringly 3;

He was brought back to the present by the sight of Ocytus coming along the track towards the field. Ayas was not surprised to see the youth walking by himself. He had proved himself to be a good worker and Misinus increasingly trusted him to work alone. Ayas jumped to his feet and stooping to snatch up the dead crow set off at the run to meet Ocytus.

"Look what I've got Ocytus," he shouted excitedly waving the bird in the air as soon as he got with earshot.

"We'll put it in the stew tonight. We'll have meat," he cried his voice cracking in excitement at the prospect as he drew up panting beside his friend.

"Very good. Well done," Ocytus managed to sound enthusiastic, although he had been used to finer fare than stewed carrion.

"What are you doing here Ocytus and where's the rest of them?" Ayas asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Your father's got them hoeing under the olive trees. All except Callias, he's been sent to Xionedes' farm on some errand or other. I've been sent to build up the field wall. It's broken down at places and your father is afraid the goats will get in and eat the corn. Callias will come down and help when he gets back."

"I'm here. I'll stop the goats getting in," Ayas said indignantly and then his mind switching direction in the instant. "I hope Callias will be all day at Xionedes. We don't want him here."

"He's only just set off so it'll be a couple of hours before he'll be back at least," Ocytus replied reassuringly if a bit wearily.

He was becoming rather bored by Ayas. He was good to fuck in the mouth and Ocytus was determined to take him in the bum as well as soon as the opportunity presented itself. However he found the boy's almost constant companionship and seeking for attention very irritating. In his opinion the slut was good for sex but nothing much else.

He was fed up as well with the continued feuding between the two boys in which Ayas looked to him to be his champion. Callias made no attempt to hide his enmity and was always on the look out for opportunities to vent his spite by engineering minor 'accidents.' To an extent indeed he could sympathise with Callias. He was Ayas' elder brother, a great deal bigger and stronger, than the younger boy. In Ocytus' book the strong had certain rights over the weak and Callias could have expected to do very much what he wanted with Ayas were it not for his own presence. It was not surprising that Callias resented him.

Indeed in many ways he felt he would prefer Callias as a companion. At least he was more his age. With him he would not have to put up with Ayas' chatter and attention seeking.

It was true that Callias together with his younger brother had taken pleasure in tormenting him when he first arrived at the farm but Ocytus did not really bear a grudge about that. A new slave could expect a bit of rough treatment. He'd had some fun himself in his time at the expense of new drafts arriving at his own father's farm. Anyway, what with one thing and another, he'd pretty well paid them back for that.

What he would like to do was to make peace with Callias while keeping Ayas for his whore. He thought he saw how he could achieve both of these and in the very near future.

As he was thinking Ayas had fallen in beside him and was chattering away excitedly. He didn't pay much attention to what the boy was saying, which seemed mainly concerned with the crow he had killed and how good it would taste in the evening stew. There was a moments silence and he realised the boy had asked a question and was waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, I missed that Ayas what did you say?"

"I said Ocytus, if Callias is going to be away for a couple of hours and the rest of them are hoeing the olive grove we could go for a swim and they wouldn't ever notice."

Ocytus hesitated weighing up the various possibilities. It was very hot and toiling at lifting rocks to build the dry stone wall in the glare of the midday sun was far from appealing. On the other hand Misinus would make short work of them if he caught them in the sea.

"And maybe there'd be time for something else as well if you wanted," the boy hurried on, smiling suggestively up into his face and running the tip of his tongue along his lips.

"All right then," Ocytus said putting his hand on the child's shoulder and turning him to face the sea. "The something else first and then the swim."

"All right," Ayas replied cheerfully. "I'll show you the way down to the beach."

Ocytus followed the boy along the narrow path. The scrap of goatskin round the child's hips only just reached the crease of his bottom when he was standing upright. Every now and again Ayas had to bend forward to steady himself when he scrambled over a rock and then the goatskin would ride up his rump in the most provocative way. Ocytus could see grease glistening round the boy's anus. He knew that Danas was very conscientious in following Xionedes instruction in that respect.

Ocytus could not stand it any longer. Reaching out he caught hold of the boy's flimsy covering and pulled it away from his waist. Ayas let out a squeak of not wholly displeased surprise.

"This time I will fuck your bottom," Ocytus announced firmly dropping the goatskin on the path.

"Will it hurt a lot Ocytus?" Ayas asked nervously as he stepped down on the sand, repeating a question he had often asked in the past.

"Not too much provide you don't fight it." Ocytus replied easily. "Anyway when you're my slave I'll fuck you two or three times a day so you'd better get used to it. Now get down on your knees and rest your head on the sand with your bottom up in the air."

Chapter 10

"I don't know Ocytus," he said rather nervously, "if I'll ever be your slave."

"Not be my slave you silly little tart," Ocytus burst out half angry, half laughing. "What do you think you are. You're just a little slave boy not something really valuable like a racehorse. When I'm free I'll either take you with me as spoils of war or buy you from Xionedes 3; depends on whether my parents ransom me or I'm freed by a Theban victory over Sparta. You won't cost too much anyway. You're a pretty brat but there are plenty more like you."

Ayas shifted on his feet. He admitted the truth of what Ocytus had said but that only made his self appointed task more difficult.

"I know Ocytus," he sad earnestly, "but things can change 3; not everything always stays the same – does it?"

"And some things never change," Ocytus retorted now laughing outright. "You were born a Helot and you'll die one. You know what happens to little slave boys who begin to get above themselves? They get their bottoms smacked and I think I had better smack yours now."

He made a grab at Ayas and the smaller boy, giggling with excitement, dodged his grasp. Ayas had done his best to explain things to Ocytus. If the youth wouldn't take notice it wasn't his fault. When the time came when the Spartans were finally defeated and the Helots at last achieved their freedom he would be able to say to Ocytus that he had tried to warn him. Now though was the time for some fun. Ayas darted off pursued by the bigger youth. Along the beach, they ran their bare feet thudding on the firm sand. The scrap of cloth about Ocytus waist rose up as he ran revealing that he was in a state of high sexual excitement. Ayas' nakedness left no room for doubt that the boy was in a similar condition.

Ayas twisted and turned as he dodged about evading the youth's grasp. They were at the edge of the water, their flying feet throwing up showers of silver spray. Ocytus saw the water drops glistening in the sunlight as they formed little rivulets trickling down the fleeing boy's nut brown shoulders and legs and hardly less tanned bottom. Ocytus was the bigger and faster but Ayas was small and agile and lithe as an eel. Three or four times Ocytus grabbed at the child only to have him slip from his grasp.

How long the chase would have lasted if it had been in earnest and indeed whether the boy would eventually have escaped cannot be known. Ayas sensing that the youth was beginning to slow managed to trip himself up in turning and fell headlong into the shallow water. He knelt there on his hands and knees panting, waiting to be caught. Ocytus swooped on the crouching boy. Rapping his right arm round Ayas' waste Ocytus lifted him up, the boy's face to his own rear. Balancing the wriggling child against his hip Ocytus began to carry Ayas, bare arms and legs thrashing, up the beach.

Ocytus slapped the boy hard on his upturned bottom.

"Stop that," he ordered, "be still."

Ayas emitted a squeal in which apprehension and excitement were nicely mixed.

"Ocytus please don't," he pleaded. "I'll do anything you want."

"Of course you will," Ocytus replied easily, "you haven't any choice. But first you're going to learn what happens to pretty little slave brats who forget their places."

Ocytus reached the low cliff at the top of the beach. He found a rock and sat down. Catching hold of Ayas by the wrist, he felt the boy's bones small and fragile in his grasp. He drew Ayas down so that the boy was lying across his left knee his legs trapped between his own. The fragment of cloth around Ocytus' waste had rucked up leaving his crutch exposed. He manoeuvred the child so that his own swollen cock was resting comfortably against the side of the boy's bare rump. He could feel the boy's tiny prick, erect and hard pressing against the inside of his thigh. Resting the palm of his right hand on the curve of the child's rump he felt the skin cool and smooth to the touch.

"Do you really think I'm pretty Ocytus?" Ayas' asked faintly, his voice rather muffled, as his head was hanging only a few inches above the ground.

"Yes very pretty with a nice round bottom that I'm going first to spank and then to fuck."

Ocytus put his left hand on the small of the Ayas' back, pinning him down, while his right hand caressed the child's rump. He smiled as he felt the boy tense the muscle's in his bottom in anticipation of the coming assault.

Ayas, held down across Ocytus knee, was seething with conflicting emotions. He felt so vulnerable and helpless as he lay there, the youth's hand exploring his naked bottom, and yet so, somehow, content. If Ocytus had at that moment lifted his hand from the small of his back Ayas would have made no attempt to escape. There was something deeply satisfying in just being there, in surrendering himself so utterly and unequivocally to Ocytus whom he loved. He hoped that Ocytus would not smack him or, at least, not smack him very hard. He hoped also that if the youth fucked him it would not hurt too much, but the thought of being smacked was almost as arousing and as frightening as the prospect of being penetrated by Ocytus.

"There's no need to spank me Ocytus. There really isn't. I'll be a good boy and do just as you say," Ayas pleaded somewhat breathlessly, the same edge of excitement in his voice.

"But there's every need to spank you Ayas and to spank you very hard. That's the way a pretty slut like you is taught his place."

This speech of Ocytus was punctuated by a series of open handed slaps of ever increasing force on Ayas' upturned bottom. The final one was delivered with such violence that the sound of the palm of Ocytus' hand cracking down on the boy's tightly stretched rump echoed round the bay.

Ayas' held down, squirming, across the youth's knee under this rain of blows, pleaded with increasing urgency for mercy. At first the smacks did no more than sting and his pleas were not wholly serious and were interspersed with giggling. The giggling though got progressively less until it ceased altogether while the protests and wriggling became more desperate.

"Oh Ocytus that hurt," Ayas cried out trying, somewhat ineffectually, to shield his bottom from further assault with his hands.

And it did, not as much as the cane when his father beat him, but enough to bring tears to his eyes. Yet, despite the tears, despite the pain, there was still that strange feeling of rightness, of contentment, that somehow came from being so completely in the older boy's power, that the smacks, painful though they were, seemed only to emphasise.

"It was meant to," Ocytus replied grimly. He caught hold of the Ayas' wrists with his left hand forcing them up the boy's back. He paused for a moment to admire the smooth curves of the child's bottom, the brown skin given a reddish flush from the impact of his own hand, lying raised, so invitingly, across his knee. Then lifting his hand as high over his shoulder as he could he brought it down in a series of stinging blows across the boy's defenceless bum. Ayas squealed and writhed under the blows. The wriggling of the naked boy, trapped between Ocytus' legs, kindled in the youth the most exquisite sensations that were further aroused by the cries of the child and the display of youthful charms that his contortions so openly afforded.

However all good things have to come to an end sometime. In time Ocytus' right arm tired and the palm of his hand began to sting.

He released the boy and tipped him back onto his feet. Ayas crouched on the ground between his legs sobbing quietly. Ocytus took the child's head between his hands and tipped it back so that he looked down into it. Tears brimming in the boy's eyes gave the child an added beauty, as tears so often do to those who can appreciate the erotic potential of the sufferings of the weak and defenceless. Ocytus bent forward and kissed the boy full on his open lips. Ayas responded fiercely winding his arms tight around the youth's neck.

"Now down on your knees whore and get ready to have your bum fucked," Ocytus ordered pushing the boy away from him. "Elbows on the ground and get your bottom up in the air."

This time Ayas did not protest or waste time asking pointless questions about whether 'it' was going to hurt. As the boy turned so that he could present his bottom to him Ocytus caught a glimpse of his small twig like prick quivering, rigid and eager, almost vertically erect in front of him. Ocytus smiled. The slut was ripe and ready for enjoyment.

Obediently Ayas got down on the ground. He knelt there, his face so close to the beach that he could see the individual grains of sand. He was very nervous and at the same time intensely excited. His lust had already been thoroughly roused by his rough but erotically charged treatment. To be pinned down across Ocytus' knee to have his bare rump spanked had been moderately painful but also thoroughly arousing. Even as his bottom jumped and quivered under the stinging impact of Ocytus' palm his cock, rubbing against the youth's bare thigh, grew ever harder. His excitement was increased further by the feel of the youth's swollen rod pressing against the side of his naked bottom.

Now though he could only wait offering himself to the older boy. He knew that there was no escape and indeed he did not want to escape, but he hoped that, when the time came and Ocytus took his pleasure, it would not hurt too much. His throat was tight with fear and he seemed to have difficulty in breathing.

Ocytus stood a moment looking down at Ayas, admiring the delicacy so unconditionally offered him. The sight of the boy, so helpless, so vulnerable, so utterly at his mercy, heightened his own lust still further.

He dropped to his knees behind the boy. Ayas, sensing the movement, stirred and arching his back forced his bottom up a further fraction of an inch. A strange almost whinnying noise came from the boy, half moan, half whimper, speaking in equal measure of lust and fear.

"You want my cock slut and you're going to get it. If you want to make it a little easier push out now as if you're having a shit," Ocytus ordered roughly.

He spat on the palm of his hand and spread the saliva liberally over his throbbing prick. Taking his penis between his finger and thumb he guided its tip so that it was pressed against the lips of the boy's already greased anus. Prizing Ayas' bottom open with his thumbs he thrust forward, forcing his swollen cock's head a painful fraction, of a fraction, of an inch into the boy.

Ayas squealed like a pig when, it's throat slit, it is hung from a beam by its hind legs to bleed slowly to death. His fingers scrabbled helplessly at the sand as the pain tore through him. It felt as if a massive wedge was being hammered into his bottom splitting his whole body open.

Ocytus having effected a lodgement, however shallow, in Ayas' bum, abandoned his hold of his cock and used his two thumbs to pry the boy's hole open. He drove forward again into the screaming child but to little effect. Maddened by this resistance to his lust and by the boy's shrill cries he hammered remorselessly at the Ayas' bottom. At last the child's sphincter gave way before this assault and Ocytus' cock began to sink deeper into the boy. Ocytus shifted his grip to Ayas' hips, yanking the boy brutally back on his swollen cock each time he drove forward into him. Slowly the youth's member sunk ever deeper into the child's rump.

The agony from Ayas' violated bottom reached a peak of intensity that blotted out every other sensation dragging him down into a red screaming void of pain. Then strangely through the pain he became aware of another sensation, the pain was still there but it was accompanied by a deep overwhelming excitement. The volume of Ayas' screams diminished until they subsided into a low lust driven moaning. His body, instead of resisting its invasion, had come to welcome it.

Ocytus felt the boy's guts tighten around his cock drawing it down further into his body. He slowed the tempo of his movements driving his cock deeper into Ayas' bottom with long slow lunges of his hips until it's full length was sheathed in the boy. Now Ayas was responding enthusiastically, pushing his bottom back as Ocytus drove forward. The panting of the youth and the moans of the boy were now punctuated by the rhythmic slap of bare flesh against bare flesh as Ocytus' hips impacted against Ayas' rump.

Now Ayas' whole being was concentrated on the swollen rod pumping his bottom. He had been brought to the state where pain and pleasure merge and are one and indistinguishable as the wildest and most exquisite sensations surged through his body. He threw his head back and straightened himself, clamping his bottom even tighter about the youth's throbbing prick.

Ocytus reached round the boy, his fingers teasing the child's stiff little penis. He could feel the blood pounding in his head as a black mist was drawn across his eyes. He thrust down into the boy one last time, feeling the blood surge in his penis, as he shot his seed deep into the child's guts. Ocytus strained forward as jet after jet of semen spurted from his cock. Then Ayas tumbled forward. Ocytus lay on top of the boy for a few minutes before levering himself upright back onto his knees. There was a plop as the sweat sealed vacuum that had formed between their two bodies was broken followed by a second one as Ocytus pulled his now flaccid cock out of Ayas' bottom.

A feeling of revulsion swept over Ocytus as he looked down at the boy still crouched on the ground, his bum raised in the air. A brown viscous fluid was oozing from Ayas' hole and staining the inside of his thighs. Only a Helot boy, the product of generations of servitude, would descend to such depths. Ocytus became aware of a dampness on the palm of his hand. He glanced down and saw a thin smear of almost clear fluid, the product of Ayas first wet orgasm. The slut had even got pleasure from his degradation. Twisting his mouth in disgust he wiped his hand hastily on the side of Ayas bottom.

"Come on," he said, he could hardly bring himself to talk to so contemptible a creature but the brat had to be got back to work, "Get down to the sea and clean yourself up."

"I'm sore down there in my bottom Ocytus," Ayas grizzled as he dragged himself gingerly to his feet.

"Of course you are," Ocytus replied briskly, "it won't hurt so much next time though."

"You're going to fuck me again?" Ayas asked timidly, gingerly taking a step towards the sea.

"Of course I am again and again and again. And don't waddle. You're a boy not a duck. Get a move on," Ocytus said sending Ayas on his way with a smart slap across his rump.

He followed the boy down to the water's edge. Holding Ayas firmly by the scruff of the neck he marched the child out into the sea.

"Oh Ocytus it stings," Ayas whined as the salt water reached his hole.

"Do it good," Ocytus replied unsympathetically before beginning to sponge the filth from between the whimpering boy's legs with the scrap of cloth that also served as his own clothing.

Later Ayas as he made his way back to the filed tried to understand what had happened. What Ocytus had done to him had hurt very much indeed and he was still very sore round and inside his hole although he was doing his best not to show it by waddling. But how could the hurt and pain, just as it reached it's peak of intensity become something quite different, an ascending spiral of excitement, culminating in the mysterious and wonderful moment when something seemed to burst in his head and for a few seconds he had known only pleasure.

He had shot cum for the first time. He had made Ocytus do it many times in the past with his mouth. Had Ocytus on those occasions experienced the same feelings as he had just done? He hoped so. He wanted to please Ocytus. This time Ocytus had come in his bottom. He was sure of that for he had felt Ocytus cock convulse inside him just as it did in his mouth when the youth's seed came. So he must have done all right this time as well. Although Ocytus had been a bit gruff when cleaning him up. Anyway Ocytus must have enjoyed it because he was going to do it again to him. Ayas was glad about that for, although it hurt to begin with, the ending made it all worthwhile and it was good having Ocytus inside him and knowing that he was able to please him.

Ayas had reached his station at the top corner of the field. He turned to wave to Ocytus but the youth had already started to pile rocks together for the dry stone wall and did not notice him.

Ocytus thought that things had so far worked out well. He had, as he had planned, enjoyed Ayas and the slut had proved himself to be an excellent performer. Now he wanted to make friends with Callias. He had an idea of how that might be done. He doubted if it would make Ayas very happy but that was beside the point. Callias' unremitting hostility had become almost as tiresome as Ayas constant attention seeking. His plan if it worked would have the dual advantage of placating Callias and of putting Ayas in his place.

It was well on into the afternoon before Callias appeared and his attitude then was far from friendly. He returned Ocytus’ greeting with a bad tempered grunt and stood glowering about himself in a manner that suggested that he was looking and hoping for trouble.

"Anything interesting going on at Lord Xionedes' house?" asked Ocytus ignoring the other's hostile attitude.

"Na not much an I know I've been gone a long time an I spose you're aiming to get me in trouble by telling to Dad."

"I'm not going to tell on you. What good would it do me if I did? You have been gone a long time though and I wondered if there was something special happening there."

"If you must know," Callias spoke slowly as he had already set to work and his words were punctuated by grunts of effort as he lifted stones and placed them on the dry stone wall, for whatever his manifold faults he was a good worker, "I stopped to see one of the slave girls whipped. Helped herself to a bowl of goat's milk. The steward really laid into her, cut her back up like nobody's business. You should have heard the bitch scream." His voice lost some of its sullenness as he remembered the excitements of the scene.

"I wish I had been there," Ocytus said wistfully.

"Strung her up by the wrists and she was spinning about as the whip hit her. Lash curled right round her body and by the time he was finished with her there was blood everywhere. Front and back. She was young too, only had small breasts and they was all welted and oozing blood."

"Anyway don't know why you should be bothered about missing seeing it. I expect you've spent most of your time fucking little brother," Callias said with a return to his usual hostile manner.

"Only half an hour all told," Ocytus said, indignantly rebutting the accusation of idleness. "Do you want a go."

Callias stared at him for a moment with his mouth open.

"You're joking," he said eventually, "the little sod is your particular friend."

"He's just a slut like any other slut and so far as I'm concerned if you want him you're welcome. I know watching a good flogging always turns me on. I'll call him down for you now." And throwing his head back he shouted up the hill "Ayas."

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