Zelamir

Sejanus

(or The Traitor's Son)

Author's introduction

The story will include some deaths but it is not a snuff story. The deaths will not be described in a provocative way and are included only for story or character development.

I do not make any claim for historical accuracy. For instance Drusus (grandson of Augustus) is going to play an important if transitory part although he was almost certainly poisoned by Tiberius before Sejanus was killed. Some bits are right. It does seem that Sejanus had three children and while two were executed the fate of the third is I think unknown. One was a young girl and she was raped by the executioner before being strangled because virgins could not legally be executed. Titus (Caesonius Priscus) actually existed and was a Roman knight although to call him Tiberius's pimp is perhaps a little unjust. His official title according to Suetonius was Comptroller of Pleasures. Over all though this is a fantasy story set in a fantasy version of the early Roman Empire.

I write because I enjoy doing so. You are at perfectly at liberty to copy or post this story. If you do so I would be glad however if you would acknowledge my authorship.

I would be glad to receive any comments (pleasant if possible) or suggestions you care to make. I will reply to any messages I receive other than those complaining that this story include descriptions of young boys being physically and sexually abused. That is what it is about. You have been warned.

Archivist's note

Background

First Publication

Part 1

(chapter I)

Yet the feel of a regime under threat had been palpable throughout his journey to Capri. The naval squadron lying close off shore, the long sleek hulls of the galleys reflected in the almost unmoving sea, elegant and beautiful until the they had drawn close enough to catch the stink from the rowing benches, the double guard of marines at the single landing place, hard men in full battle gear, all suggested Tiberius and his rule were under threat rather than, as they truly were, triumphant.

"I can trust no one, no one."

The man who was Emperor of Rome stood naked, waste deep in the pool, beads of water glinting on the thick dark hair that matted his powerful chest, staring at him through cold distrustful eyes.

"Sejanus who I made my companion in power and who I was going to bring into the my own family betrays me. If he had been content to wait who knows what might have been open to him. But no, he must snatch at the prize as many have before him and many will in the future and to what end? What has the supreme power brought me.?"

Crastus glanced round at the vast marble lined pool, the imperial villa towering behind it, the crowd of beautiful naked boys, lithe limbed and attentive, hovering eagerly about them and thought that power seemed to have it's compensations. Then his eyes went back to the emperor's closed frightened face disfigured by a mass of angry white tipped pimples and he wondered if they were enough.

It was not the first time that Crastinus had been summoned by the Emperor to get his instructions direct from himself. He thought the man looked more under strain and more frightened than in the past. Certainly the pimples that on earlier occasions had been a mere occasional blemish now covered Tiberius's face with a livid rash of pustules. It was clear that Sejanus's rebellion had hit the man hard.

"You have some special task for me Sir?" Crastus asked. Experience had taught him that once the Emperor began to talk about the burdens of his office he would prose on in an incoherent disjointed sort of way indefinitely unless checked.

Tiberius made a small gesture of assent with his hand and one of the boys mistaking it's meaning slipped with a flash of smooth brown limbs from the side of the pool into the water. and began to swim towards him. A couple of yards from his master he jack knifed, for an instant his tight boy's bum broke the surface of the water, and then fish like he swam submerged, his hands pressed to his sides, propelling himself forwards with small kicks of his bare feet. Crastus watched as his slim body, it's outline distorted by the ripples of the clear water approached Tiberius's crutch his head thrown back ready to nuzzle his master's flaccid cock and heavy balls. Crastus resigned himself to a long wait before the Emperor would be ready to give him his instructions. However it was soon clear that Tiberius did not wish to postpone the business immediately in hand. Turning slightly he reached out his left hand and seizing the boy by his hair held the child firmly under the water. The boy's feet scrabbled desperately on the floor of the pool as the Emperor turned his attention back to Crastus.

"I have indeed Crastus," he said apparently oblivious of the increasingly frantic struggles of the boy whose head he continued to hold beneath the water. "In so serious a case of rebellion as Sejanus's it is not enough that the man himself should perish, his whole family must be expunged from the face of the earth."

"His son and daughter have both been disposed of Sir and their bodies displayed to the mob.."

Crastus could see the boy had grasped Tiberius 's hand with both of his and was trying to break the man's grip on his head. .

"I know Crastus but here is another child, a boy, still younger than those two whom Sejanus loved the most and kept in the country to preserve him from the temptations of the City and the Court. I did not myself know of this but the freeman in whose charge he left the child sent a messenger to me after the plot was unmasked informing me of the boy's existence and asking me what was to be done with him. I wish you to look after the matter for me."

"A very loyal man, that freeman of Sejanus's," Crastus observed dryly.

"Yes, yes," replied Tiberius oblivious to the sarcasm in the other's voice. "I would wish him to be rewarded. Certainly he may be left to manage the farm for the state. But first Sejanus's son must be killed."

The boy had ceased to struggle. Tiberius released his hold and the lad's body sank gently down until it floated just clear of the floor of the pool.

"It will be done Sir. Where....."

"A villa just outside Perugia. Sail back to Rome. Pick up your men there and then ..."

Crastus said nothing. He bowed and turned to go.

"Crastus," Tiberius called after him. "The two children... They were very young. I know convention says that a virgin may not be executed did you...."

Crastus turned and stared at his employer coldly.

"Neither were virgins when they died Sir," he said grimly. "I can vouch for that." Tiberius grinned wolfishly at this reply.

"Good excellent," he said, "I am glad your trade, grim as it is, has it's little pleasures. Now Titus escort our faithful friend to the shore. We must not let so important a servant of the state be killed by over zealous guards."

A fat man wearing a spotless toga waddled forward from the shadows and touched Crastus's arm. Tiberius clapped his hands and there were a series of splashes and squeals as the attendant boys threw themselves into the pool eager to show their devotion to their master.

"I hope," Titus remarked as he escorted Crastus down the narrow path to the islands only landing place, " that he didn't drown that boy. Decent quality ones are getting harder to come by all the time and the price is rising. What we need is a good foreign war or a revolt in one of the provinces. Either of those would flood the market with fresh stock fast enough."

"You won't get much out of the treason trials then?" Crastus enquired absently. He was not really interested in this fat old ponce's problems. His mind was busy considering the new task he had just been set.

"Not much to the purpose," Titus lamented. "We get three quarters of the accused's property including his slaves but what our Emperor wants is fresh young boys and what we get generally maybe young but hardly fresh. If we could have the man's sons it might help a bit but they either get passed to you and your colleagues to dispose of or are allowed to live in poverty. Still it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good."

"It's a busy time for me," Crastus admitted moodily, "but not a particularly profitable one. I just get what the criminal has about him when he dies and that's often precious little especially with the young one's. What good is a doll or a toy soldier to me?"

"It's better mind you with the older one's," he continued. "They wear rings and things which they press on me to try to persuade me to make their deaths easier." His eyes rested for a moment on Titus's silver knight's ring. "It's the informers who do best. A quarter of the accused property. You can get rich on that."

"But you make enemies," Titus remarked, "A change in the wind and you stand accused and then it's slit your wrists or face a visit from you. At least your job is a steady one."

"I've never been short of work," Crastus agreed with a harsh laugh.

"And never will be. But me, if the emperor's tastes should change or anything I would be finished at once and meanwhile I have to try to keep him satisfied and he's got more demanding since Sejanus's plot broke."

The two men, the executioner and the pimp, the two most important officers of state in a tyranny, walked on in silence each bewailing to himself the hardness of his own lot.

The path that was cut into the side of the cliff turned sharply to the right. Below them now was the cove that formed the only landing place on the whole island, the fierce Mediterranean sun glinting on the almost still water. Crastus saw that since he had landed a small fishing vessel had arrived and moored behind his own boat. A skinny looking youth was trudging up the path towards them two large baskets of fish hanging from either end of the wooden yoke that rested across his narrow shoulders his only clothing a brief threadbare tunic. Bent under his heavy burden his eyes fixed on the ground as he laboured upwards the lad was clearly unaware of the two men.

"Watch where you're going boy," Titus growled. Startled the boy glanced up. Crastus saw his eyes widen with terror as he saw the two men looming over him. The boy stumbled to a halt and pressed himself against the cliff face to allow the two men to pass.

"Stupid little oaf," Titus continued slapping the boy hard across his face. "I'll give you a taste of the whip this evening to teach you to keep out of the way of your betters."

The boy said nothing and made not attempt to ward off the blows with which Titus punctuated this threat. He just stood there head bowed tears streaming down his face sobbing hopelessly.

"Look at this useless brute Crastus," Titus said reaching out and lifting the boy's tunic up to reveal a hairless crutch and a chest so thin that every bone in his rib cage was clearly visible. "Scrawny little runt isn't he? And look at his face." He caught hold of the boy by his chin and roughly pushed his head back. "I don't think I've ever seen an uglier stupider boy. But do you know if I had to replace him it would cost me perhaps a hundred denarius in the market. More than half the price of a decent mule. The worlds gone mad if you ask me."

Titus glared at the boy in silence for a second or two apparently rendered speechless by the false values of the moment.

"Oh get up to the kitchens with you. I'll have the skin from your shoulders later on." Titus swung the starveling boy round and helped him on his way with a sharp kick up his backside. For a fat man he was quite agile on his feet.

(chapter II)

The four riders reigned in their horses at the point the track joined the road and consulted together for a moment. Then they wheeled off the road and began to trot briskly along the track their horses hooves casting up behind them a reddish cloud of dust. Members of a slave gang hoeing the dry baked earth between the olive trees turned to watch them until the shouts of the overseer and the crack of his whip drove them back to their work.

The horsemen did not look pleasant men.. All four of them were big man with hard faces and three of them had short swords hanging from their belts. There was something about them vaguely suggestive of the military although they were not in uniform. Despite their lack of uniform the grooms at the various imperial post stations where they had changed horses seemed to know them well and had brought out fresh mounts for them with a speed that suggested that they were eager to send them on their way and to be rid of them. The leader of this small band was Crastus and he was the only man that did not carry a sword.

When they trotted through the gateway into the farmyard it was clear that word had arrived ahead of them of their approach. A short well fed freedman stood ready to greet them and slaves were standing by to take their horses. The three men reigned in their mounts and slid from their saddles throwing the reigns to the waiting youths.

"Well come Sir, welcome," the freedman said to Crastus smiling ingratiatingly and nervously rubbing his hands together in front of him. "My name is Echion and I was in the service of the traitor Sejanus acting as his bailiff. I have been expecting you ever since I sent word to the Imperial Authorities that I had secured one of his sons here."

"Your message reached the ears of the Emperor himself and he sent us to take care of the boy," Crastus replied coldly.

"We have him here waiting for you Sir. We have had him secure for the last week Sir awaiting the Emperor's command."

"The last week ," said Crastus with a slight note of interrogation in his voice.

He made a small gesture and two of his attendants moved forward so that they were standing nearer to the plump little freedman. The remaining man began to whistle softly through his teeth and turned round apparently to take a view of the yard his hand falling nonchalantly on his sword hilt. A look of alarm spread over Echion's face. He edged backwards until brought up short by the farmhouse wall.

"That is some time after Sejanus called out his supporters and indeed after the Praetorian guard declared their continued allegiance to my master the Emperor Tiberius."

"News takes a long time to reach us here Sir," Echion pleaded his voice shrill with fear.

"A long time indeed. It took us only two days to ride here from Rome. It would seem that news of your Master's treachery took five times that time to reach here or did you wait until you knew his attempt had failed before demonstrating your loyalty to the Emperor?" Crastus smiled coldly and his hands began to unknot the thick length of cord with the wooden toggles at either end that held his leather jerkin closed.

"No Sir. No Sir," Echion's legs had began to shake and his eyes watched Crastus's strong blunt fingers play with the cord as if hypnotised. "I am a loyal subject of the Emperor Sir. As soon as I knew of the planned treachery I secured the boy Sir. I swear it Sir. I was in Sejanus's service Sir but I was didn't know of his planned treachery. I would have informed on him straight away if I had."

"The Emperor expressed his appreciation of your loyalty and authorised me to investigate it's extent and to reward it as appropriate," Crastus remarked. He had the cord free from his waist now and was holding it loosely in front of him a toggle in each hand.

Echion gave a high pitched moan and dropped to his knees tears streaming down his face.

"Oh Sir please. I did my best Sir. I have been loyal to the Emperor. The boys been locked in the cellars ever since I learnt of his fathers treachery."

"And fed on the fat of the land and generally spoilt so that if by chance his father came out on top you could say you were just protecting the boy," Crastus sneered.

"No Sir, no. The boy would have starved long before now. I wouldn't do anything to help an enemy of the Emperor but one of the slave girls was feeding him on the sly. We caught her only yesterday Sir and I've had her well whipped and she'll work in a field gang now till she dies."

"I wish all would deal with the friends of traitors with similar harshness," Crastus said with quiet irony. "Now show me where you have imprisoned this threat to the state about whom you informed the Emperor."

Echios half rose to his feet and bent almost double scuttled off round the side of the house followed closely by Crastus and his three men. Echios stopped before a stout door and fumbled in his tunic pocket for the key.

"The key was kept on the nail there by the door," he explained as he fumbled it out of his pocket. "I didn't think any one would dare to use it to help the boy. Once I found what that treacherous girl had been up to I took charge of it personally."

His hand was shaking so violently that it took him some time to fit the key into the lock. Eventually he succeeded and the door swung open to reveal a steep flight of stairs disappearing into darkness. A dank cold smell rose up from the cellars to meet them.

"The boy has no light down there?" Crastus asked.

"No Sir none." Echios was fumbling at a lamp that stood on a ledge behind the door.

"Well perhaps you weren't spoiling him after all...."

"All right you three stay up here I reckon I can cope with a half starved brat with out your help. Just keep an eye on my back."

"Echios show me where he is."

The freedman led the way down the steps the flame of the lamp throwing an uncertain light ahead of him as the flame flickered and guttered in his trembling hand. At the bottom of the stairs a narrow corridor stretched ahead of them, earth floored, it's stone walls glistening with damp. Echios shuffled a few yards along it and stopped outside a door fastened by two heavy metal bolts.

"He's in there," the man said speaking for some reason in a hoarse whisper.

Wordlessly Crastus took the lamp from him and with a jerk of the thumb dismissed him. Echios turned and set off towards the pool of day light at the bottom of the stairs at a half run.

Crastus shot the bolts in the door. A foul animal odour assaulted his nostrils. Holding the lamp in front of him he stepped forward to meet the boy he had been sent to kill.

Part 2

(chapter III)

Lifting the lamp higher Crastus saw in its uncertain light a dark bundle lying in the corner of the small windowless room. The bundle stirred and a small white scared rather grubby face turned to look up at him. A tousle of blonde hair, not the insipid straw or flax blond of the North but the deep dusty gold of Illyria, wide blue eyes momentarily blinded by the light, red lips parted in momentary fear, so far as he could judge a pretty boy but clearly a very frightened one.

Crastus moved closer to the boy.

"Who are you? What do you want? He was trying to sound confident but there was a tremble in his voice. He pushed himself back against the wall trying to get as far away as possible from the approaching man.

"This place smells like a pig sty," Crastus said contemptuously.

"I can't help it. He chained me here and I've been here a long time. Can't you take me out of here please. My father will reward you. He's rich and powerful. He's Sejanus and I'm his son Marius. Oh please."

"Your father's not rich or powerful any more Marius." Crastus said brutally. "He's dead."

There was a moments silence. Crastus placed the lamp on the floor. He heard the boy begin to whimper. Crastus said nothing the man was dead and soon the boy would be. There was no point in comforting the child with meaningless words. He had a job to do and do it he would but not in this stinking pit. He would get the boy outside and cleaned up before he had his moment of fun with him.

Kneeling down he could see that Marius was lying on a thin layer of filthy straw tethered by a short length of iron chain locked tight around his ankle. He noticed something else as well, the child was not wearing a silver chain about his neck or gold bracelet or anklet or anything. He swore, to travel all this way from Rome to do a job and not get any additional reward. He felt cheated. His men would be disappointed as well. Their pay was measly enough. The little extra incidentals that made all the difference. Yet he would have expected the boy to have been sporting some sort of jewellery. A rich man's son, the tunic he was wearing although now horribly soiled was of the highest quality, you would have expected the job to yield rich pickings. He must have had some but where was it. Had he hidden it in the straw in which he was lying, perhaps at the suggestion of Pannychis, or had the slave girl taken it from him on some pretext, the bitches were cunning enough.

"Didn't you have a chain or bracelet or anything," he demanded roughly.

Marius said nothing but continued to sob quietly. He did not even seem to have heard the question.

Crastus lent forward and flipped him hard across the face with the back of his hand. A dribble of blood appeared at the corner of the boy's mouth..

"When I ask you a question you answer me," Crastus grated. Did you have a chain or bracelet?"

"Yes," Marius whimpered holding a hand to his bruised mouth.

"Well where are they then?"

"Echios took them."

"Oh did he," said Crastus harshly. "Well the first thing to do is to get you out of here. Then we'll sort that little matter out."

Leaving the lamp on the floor he made his way back to the door of the cell.

"Varro," he shouted at the top of the voice, "can you hear me?". There was an answering shout. "I want the boy out of here. He's got a chain locked about his ankle. Echios will know where the key is. Get it from him and bring it here."

Crastus waited at the door of the cell where the air was slightly less foul. From the corner where the boy lay came the sound of an occasional sniff. It was not long before Varro appeared with the key. Varro drew in his breath sharply as Crastus opened the iron ring.

"Well it's been on him a week," Crastus remarked looking at the band of raw suppurating flesh where the metal had galled the boy's flesh, "what can you expect."

"Come on get up," he continued, straightening and prodding Marius sharply with his toe in the ribs.. "We're not going to carry you, filthy little brute."

Urged on by occasional slaps and kicks from the two men Marius made his way unsteadily out of the cellars. He hesitated at the top of the steps and stood blinking and confused in the bright sunlight. Crastus come up behind him gave him a heavy push in the back that sent him staggering forward.

"Get him washed down," he ordered, "and get that filthy tunic off him. I'm not touching him in his present condition."

One of the men took the lad by the arm and half dragged and half marched him towards the well in the centre of the yard.

Crastus with Varro at his side turned to face Echios who was standing against the wall just outside the cellar door.

"Now," he said grimly, "what have you done with the boy's stuff?"

"Stuff," Echios quavered uncertainly, "I .. I ...don't know what you mean..."

"His jewellery, the chain, the bracelet and all the rest of it that you took off him."

Varro without warning half drew his sword ramming it's hilt into the free man's stomach. As Echios lurched forward Crastus drove the butt of his hand into the man's face. There was an audible crunch as his nose broke and his head slammed back against the wall. The man's knees began to give way under him. Crastus twisted his left hand in his tunic to hold him upright.

"I.... I ...... Took it from him in case he tried to use it to bribe someone to help him escape and to keep it safe for the Imperial treasury." Echios blurted out raising his hands to try to ward off any further blows.

"Very estimable," Crastus sneered, "well the Emperor has made us responsible for the boy now so we'll look after the jewellery as well. Where is it?"

The man hesitated staring round with wild eyes searching for a way to escape his tormentors. There was none. Crastus pulled him forward away from the wall and then slammed him back once more against it with all his strength. There was a sickening thud as the back of his head struck the wall.

"I ... I... Haven't got it any more ... I had lost some money on the races and I .... I had to hand it over to satisfy that. They sent men here to collect the money... I had no choice... They would have beaten me."

Crastus swore fiercely. He balled his right fist and punched the man in his crutch. Echios screamed shrilly. Crastus released his tunic and the man collapsed on the ground at his feet.

"We ride all the way here from Rome to do a job of work and we're not going to get anything extra for our trouble," he said disgustedly.

He drew back his foot and kicked Echios as hard as he could in his face. Then he turned his back on the man and followed by Varro walked across to the well. Echios remained lying curled on the ground moaning softly.

The man who had been ordered to clean Marius up had stripped him and was busy using the lad's tunic sponge him down. Crastus settled himself on the stone wall surrounding the well and stared gloomily at the boy. Not that he was a bad looking lad he thought. Far from it in fact. His face he knew from the cursory glance he had of it in the cellar was pretty enough in a boyish sort of way and he could see now the boy was out in the sun light and stripped that he had a nice little body. A good clean limbed young animal, slim but not painfully thin, a nicely formed rib cage, a good straight back, a tight well rounded bottom with two well pronounced dimples on either side, firm strong thighs. Marius was shivering now and looked rather out of condition which was not surprising considering what he had had to endure over the past week. Crastus could however imagine how attractive he would have looked with the sheen of health restored to his smooth young skin.

Crastinus noticed that a number of household slaves were lurking around the edge of the yard and in the doorways of the house and surrounding barns quietly watching what was going on. He got the impression from their expressions and some muttered remarks that he over heard that they were not at all worried at the treatment of Echios but that they were not so happy about the boy's. The latter would probably come to nothing he told himself. Almost certainly it would remain at the level of sullen muttering and if they did decide to try anything on with three swordsmen to help him he should be able to see off a rabble of unarmed slaves, though if they started throwing rocks or got hold of scythes and pitch forks things might get a little awkward.

The man engaged in swabbing down the boy had come to the lad's rump. He was trying to get Marius to lean forward and part his legs so that he could clean the cleft of his bottom but the boy had frozen. He clipped the lad lightly on the back of his head and then reinforced his order with a sharp slap of his open hand on the boy's bum. A murmur, unhappy rather than angry, rose from the watching slaves but the boy obediently shuffled his feet apart and bent forward.

"Trouble?" The men asked grinning at Crastinus and jerking his head towards where Echios lay whimpering in the dust.

"Yes," Crastinus growled. "The fat little sod has thieved the boy's jewellery and used it to pay off his gambling debts so we've come all the way here to take care of that little turd and will get no more than our wages for the job."

"Well he's not a bad looking brat and I'd say he's a virgin too so there's be a bit of pleasure for us all to be got out of him before you do the job," the man spoke quietly so the watching slaves could not her what was said. Marius seemed oblivious to what was being said, just standing passively still, his eyes glazed as the man worked on his body. Crastinus was not surprised at this. He had seen it happen many times before. Some of his victims fought and struggled to the end. Others, and this boy appeared to be among this category, seemed to become mesmerised with terror and went unprotestingly to their deaths like cattle being herded into a slaughter house. Crastus preferred it this way. It was less trouble. He hoped though the boy would liven up when the time came to rape him.

He looked at Marius appraisingly wondering whether he would be a good fuck. Certainly he looked good, perhaps if he could get a bit of bloom back ,better than merely good. An idea struck him.

"You thinks he's a virgin?"

"Near certain."

"Bring him over here."

The man propelled the docile boy over to Crastus with a series of gentle pushes and slaps on his bum. Crastus levered himself wearily upright from his seat on the wall and began a methodical examination of the lad. Marius stood still, unresisting, as the man's hands travelled over his body. He even lacked the spirit to try to hide his nakedness with his hands. Crastus steadily worked his way down the boy's body, no head lice or fleas, no obvious ear or eye infections, skin more or less clear of blemishes, good even white teeth with a clean tongue and no inflammation of the throat, no sign of ring worm under the arms. He needed the side of the boy's neck with his fingers, no sign of swollen glands. The boy's ribcage was well defined but the skin not too tightly stretched he decided as he took a small pinch of the boy's flesh between finger and thumb. He tweaked one hard young nipple. Marius gave a small gasp of pain but otherwise did not react. He moved his hands downwards pressing the tips of his fingers firmly into the boy's stomach seeking lumps and hardness but finding none. He took hold of the child's small hairless balls rolling them gently between the tips of his fingers. Marius caught his breath sharply at this invasion but made no other protest. Crastus pulled a face as he rolled back the boy's foreskin but reminded himself that the lad had for a week had little if any chance to clean himself. He checked the inside of his thighs for ringworm and then kneeling on the ground ran his hands down the boy's firm slim legs before examining his feet for parasites. He turned round and signalled to the boy to turn round. Back of the head, neck, shoulders his hands moved down the Marius's body stroking, squeezing, probing.

He ordered Marius to part his legs and bend forward to rest his hands on the top of the wall about the well. Again zombie like he obeyed. Crastus rested his hands on the boy's bottom relishing the feel of his cool flesh and smooth silky skin. This now he knew was the iron test. He had found nothing wrong with the boy, but for all that, that fat pimp of the Emperor's, Titus, said about the shortage of quality boy flesh in the markets no one would pay good money for a lad unless there was a bit of life to him. Marius at the moment was hardly better than dead flesh to handle and dead flesh he would be unless he showed a bit of spirit. There was no point in going to the trouble and expense of taking the brat to Rome unless he would fetch a good price on the auction block when he got him there.

Crastus slipped his right hand between Marius's legs and pushed upwards forcing his bottom higher into the air. He used his two thumbs to pull open the lips of the boy's anus. The lad could be cleaner he thought but at least there is no sign of round worm. He licked the tip of his index finger and pressed it into the boy. The lad tensed and for a moment resisted him. Crastus increased the pressure and forced the boy's sphincter open. Marius cried out in anguish and shock.

The slaves standing round the edge of the yard moved uneasily. Varro who up to then had been sitting on the wall of the well, watching lounged to his feet, his hand resting on his sword hilt.

Crastus put his left hand on the Marius's shoulder to steady him and probed deeper into his body. The boy moaned but more softly this time. Crastus probed still deeper and smiled as he felt the boy's body tighten once again about his finger, this time not resisting it's intrusion but trying to draw it further into him.

He glanced round the boy. His little cock was standing rigidly to attention it's tip pressing up against his tummy. A woman among the watching slaves giggled, then another and another. Varro removed his hand from his sword and joined in the laughter that now rang out round the yard.

Grinning Crastus pulled his finger out of the boy. There was an audible plop as it came clear of the lad's bottom. With a laugh he landed a loud open handed slap on Marius's bare rump.

"He's just a slut like any other brat of his age," he said cheerfully deliberately speaking loud enough for the crowd of slaves to hear. There was a murmur of approval and agreement. They might feel uneasy when they saw the boy who until very recently was their Master's son being hurt but they liked to be told that really he was no better than they were.

"Take him into the kitchen and get him cleaned up thoroughly using hot water," Crastus continued speaking to the man who had been washing Marius by the well. "There's sure to be a woman there who is used to dealing with cuts. Have her look specially at his ankle where the iron ring has cut the flesh. When she's cleaned it up don't bandage it. I think it'll heal quicker exposed to the air. And tell her to pay special attention to his foreskin and bottom they're both filthy."

"When she's finished bring him to me. We'll be in the principal guest room. I don't know where that is but that's where we'll be. One of the slaves will show you where it is."

"And keep an eye on what's going on," he added quietly. " I wouldn't put it past this lot to try to spirit the brat away if they saw a chance."

The man took hold Marius by his arm and led him towards the house. Crastus was pleased to see that tears were streaming down the boy's face and that he was trying to hide his still rigid prick with his hands. Clearly Marius had snapped out of his apathy and was now feeling his humiliation deeply.

(chapter IV)

Part 3

"Sorry not to be back sooner," he said giving Echios a shake,. "It took me sometime to find our friend here."

"Where did you find that tart?" Crastus asked nodding at the boy whose only clothing was a very brief tunic fringed with tassels which reached only halfway down his bum. Forced to bend forward by Vacco's grip on his ear these totally failed to cover his plump little rump.

"This? This is Pulchellus. I found him washing the blood from Echios face and kissing the place to make it better."

"Oh the bailiff's favourite boy. Better fed and plumper than any other brat on the farm I suppose," Crastus remarked with a sneer.

"He's my own property," Echios protested. " I bought him myself. I can do what you like with my own."

"So you can, so you can, but not with what belongs to the Emperor. He'd be very annoyed if he found out that you took Marius's jewellery that should have been forfeited to him to pay off your own gambling debts."

"You'd only have taken them yourself if I hadn't got them first," Echios protested in a brief and ill judged moment of defiance.

Crastus lashed out with his foot catching Echios on his right knee. The man screamed shrilly.

"Don't be insolent. The Emperor won't be interested in what we might have done. He will be interested in what you have done, should I remember to tell him about it. But you don't want to me to tell him do you?"

Echios stared sullenly at Crastus who moved his foot threatening another kick.

"No ... No I don't."

"Say please."

"Please, please don't."

"Well then you'll have to do something for me in return. You'll be glad to do that won't you?"

"Won't you?"

"Yes. Yes I will."

"Well then you can show us the way to your office and there you can write out a couple of documents for me. Varro bring the brat along."

Echios hobbled painfully across the court yard followed closely by Crastus and Varro who kept a tight and painful hold on Pulchellus's ear. The bailiff's office was a long low room set immediately to the left of the archway. It had a bare plank floor and it's only furniture was a table, a couple of wooden chairs and an open cupboard containing a number of scrolls. Hanging from the wall just inside the door was a heavy whip and in a large earthenware pot beneath it were a number of canes of various lengths and weights.

"A bit of a disciplinarian are you Echios?" Crastus sneered catching sight of these.

"How else am I to get work out of the lazy brutes. It's the only the only thing they understand and respect.."

"And I suppose your little tart looks on laughing while you slice up the bums of less fortunate slave brats. It must be fun for you both."

Without waiting for a reply Crastus selected a cane and swung it experimentally in his hand.

"Nice springy movement," he remarked and suddenly lashed Pulchellus across the front of his thighs with it raising a livid wheal across the smooth brown skin. The boy screamed shrilly.

Crastus lifted the cane for another cut.

"Master stop him," the boy yelled desperately.

"That's enough please," Echios protested weakly.

"Enough," growled Crastus, "enough, I've hardly begun. If ever I saw a slave boy who would be improved by a sound thrashing it's that one. Still business before pleasure I suppose. Go over to that table of yours and write me out a receipt for the body of Marius and an acknowledgement that you are taking responsibility for disposing of it."

Echios limped over to the table and seated himself. He scribbled away for a minute or two in silence and then passed what he had written to Crastus who glanced through it quickly.

"That's very good," he said and Echios began to lever himself painfully out of the chair.

"No, no," Crastus said putting his hand on the others man shoulder and forcing him back into his chair, "you haven't finished yet. You see I'm going to sell Marius when we go back to Rome. Premium goods he will be on the market, a beautiful virgin boy. . Marius would loose a good deal of his value if he went to the block with his bum ripped from our cocks and that would never do. You will need to provide me and my men with another boy to keep us amused on our journey the state of whose bottom doesn't matter. So just write out a another note transferring ownership of your Pulchellus to me. I know you've been fucking him but we're not fussy and by the look of you even after having your cock up his arse he'll be tight enough to give us pleasure."

"Never, I won't do it. I won't," Echios said with as much vehemence as he could muster but some how his words lacked conviction.

"Oh dear," Crastus said wearily, "and I did so hope we could our business done without any more unpleasantness."

He placed his hand on the back of Echios head and slammed his face down onto the table. Grasping his hair he hauled the bailiff back in his chair so that he was once again sitting upright.

"Dear, dear, now look what's happened," Crastus said sympathetically, "and you're getting blood all over your desk. I do admire the way you stick up for that boy, really brave of you when you consider what the Emperor will do to you when I report that you only remembered your loyalty to him after you knew Sejanus had been captured. I don't want to make that report. I'm a kind hearted man so perhaps on second thoughts you will..."

"Master," Pulchellus screamed wrenching himself free from Vacco's grasp and throwing himself on his knees before the table where his Master was seated, "don't do it please Master, please."

Crastus was round the table in an instant. His foot thudded into the boy's crutch. Pulchellus doubled over his hands clasped to his balls his brief tunic with it's silly tassels riding down over his back to leave his bottom exposed.

"You talk when you're spoken to brat," Crastus rasped and brought the cane hissing down across the boy's bare rump.

"That," he continued, raising his voice to be heard over the child's anguished scream, "is just a foretaste of the thrashing you're going to get this evening. Now shut up."

"Well Echios are you going to transfer the boy to me or shall I make my report to the Emperor? Come on man we haven't all day."

For a moment there was silence apart from the sound of Pulchellus whimpering. Then Echios started to write again.

"May I go now," Echios asked after he had finished writing. Crastus noted he took a great deal of care to avoid looking at Pulchellus hunched weeping in the floor at his feet.

"Just one more thing," Crastus said easily, "I would like you to show me again the place you kept Marius shut up. Come along."

"Varro bring the slut along will you and the cane too. I am going to have to help our friend here. He seems to have some trouble in walking."

Holding Echios firmly by the elbow Crastus guided him across the yard to where the door to the cellars stood open the key still in it's lock. Followed by Varro and the blubbing Pulchellus he forced him down the steps to the foul smelling cell in which Marius had been confined. It's door also was open. Crastus gave the bailiff a shove and kicking his feet from under him sent him tumbling headlong into the filthy hole. He slammed the door and shot the bolts leaving Echios in darkness. He lead the way up the stairs. Back in the fresh air he locked the cellar door and then carrying it's key with him walked over the well.

"I wonder," he said throwing the key into the well, "how long it will take the slaves to break down that door and release the bailiff after we leave tomorrow. I don't expect they will try very hard. I don't think any of them loved him very much apart from slut boy here and he of course will be coming with us."

Pulchellus wailed dismally. Crastus and Varro laughed at his misery.

(chapter V)

So much had happened to him in the past few days. His comfortable privileged world had been torn apart. He had cried a little for his father when he had been told of his death but the sheer extent of his misery had overwhelmed him and emptied his mind of all emotions but fear and hopelessness..

"It's infected," the women said pressing her thumb into the angry ring of raw flesh scored round the boy's leg by the ankle iron. Marius caught his breath and involuntarily jerked his leg as the pain hit him.

"Mariullus stay still now. I can't do anything if you wriggle about," she chided him. [Author's note: the Romans added "ullus" to the end of a word as an affectionate diminutive both of size and status. Thus if "puer" means boy, "puerullus" means not only small boy but pretty little slave boy. So calling Marius "Mariullus" implies that he is both small, pretty and a slave.]

Marius was well enough liked among the free servants and slaves in the household. He was a cheerful generous spirited young lad getting into all sorts of scrapes himself but ready to intercede for any of them, especially the other boys about the place, who faced a flogging deserved or not. They had been uneasy when Echios had locked him in the cellars and most of them at least knew and a number actively helped Panychis smuggle food to him. They were even more uneasy when Crastus and his three men arrived. They knew of the execution of Sejanus and his two other children and it seemed that Marius was to share their fate. It was one thing however to feel sympathy for the boy. It was another to take action to save someone, even a child tainted with treachery to the Emperor. If you were not a Roman citizen the consequences of such an action if caught would be to be flogged and then nailed to a cross to die in long drawn out agony. They muttered among themselves while they believed Marius's life was in danger. There was even a chance that some brutality inflicted on Marcus would have prompted an attempt on their part to free him. That moment never came. Instead they had learnt that he was to be a slave. They were certainly not going to risk their own hides in trying to preserve Marius from a fate that all of them had experienced.

"The quickest way of dealing with it would be to take the hot iron too it," the women continued speaking to the man who stood beside her. "Burn it out."

"The boss said he did not want the boy permanently marked. He wants to get the very best price for him."

The woman looked down again at Marius's leg with it's broken skin and chafed flesh.

"The infection is only in one or two places I suppose," she remarked. "Where the edges of the fetter bit into his flesh. I could cut it out and it would probably heal cleanly. Boy's flesh mends well."

She twisted round on her stool, turning her back on Marius and tucking his right leg firmly under her arm. She picked up a small knife, the light glinting on a short wickedly sharp blade, from the table beside her. She bent her head and cut down into the healthy flesh directly above one of the puss leaking sores disfiguring the boy's smooth tanned leg.

A scream was wrenched from the depths of Marius's lungs. He collapsed backwards on the floor rolling about in his agony his hands drumming a frantic tattoo of pain on the flagstones. Selia fought to keep hold of his captive leg. His wildly flailing left foot caught her in the small of the back almost knocking her off her stool.

At a shout from her a well muscled half naked youth darted forward and caught old of Marius's left leg. The watching man deliberately placed his foot on the boy's chest pinning his shoulders to the floor.

Selai waited till the boy was still and putting the knife back down on the table turned on her stool to face him.

"Mariullus," she said quietly staring straight into his eyes, "I know I am hurting you. I will hurt you a great deal more before I have finished with you but not half as much as I will if you dare to kick me again. Do you understand"

"Yes.. .yes Miss," Marius sobbed.

"Well to help you remember and give you a taste of what you can expect but only a taste..." She ground her thumb into the ring of raw flesh. Marius's screams rang out again. His mouth was distorted into a rictus of pain. His eyes rolled back in their sockets until the pupils were hidden. Then she turned round and settled once more to her work.

For almost half an hour she sliced away at the infected areas while Marius lay writhing and screaming on the floor. At last she was finished with the knife. Selia opened a small jar of ointment. . She dipped the tip of her right index finger in the unguent and using her left hand to open the cuts that she had incised in the boy's leg, she worked it into the wounds. Marius's felt that his veins were filled with liquid fire. His howls redoubled in volume. The youth his chest glistening with sweat fought to control the boy's thrashing limbs while Selia oblivious to Marius's sufferings roughly bandaged his tortured flesh.

"It should heal well enough," she remarked raising her voice over Marius's screams. "Maybe a slight puckering of the skin but nothing more."

"The boss said we were to leave the sores uncovered," the man remarked.

"You'll have to wit till the cuts stop bleeding before doing that," Selia remarked. "Leave the bandages on for tonight and see how it looks tomorrow morning."

Marius's cries decreased in volume to a low constant low whimper. Selia looked down at him, his face smeared with snot and tears, his body trembling convulsively. She bent down and holding him under the arms lifted him on to her knees. He wriggled close to her burying his face against her shoulder, a thumb stole into his mouth. Selia cuddled him tightly one hand cupping his firm boy's rump the other round his narrow shoulders.

"That's the worse over Mariullus," she said gently. "We've just got to get you nice and clean for your Master. You don't want to think he's got himself a grubby little slut for his new boy do you?"

Marius shook his head slightly and mumbled something. Selia seemed to understand him for she continued.

"No you can't help being dirty shut up in that dark horrid cell." She moved the boy slightly on her lap so that his body was turned away from her. She reached out to draw a rag from a bowl of warm water from the table beside her. She took the Marius's small prick between finger and thumb and peeled back his foreskin. She wrinkled her nose. His prick under the foreskin was coated with dirt. She began to wash the filth gently away. The boy stirred uneasily.

"A little sore my pet? She asked indeed the skin beneath the dirt was red and inflamed. "You couldn't help it this time but you must learn to keep yourself clean now for your Master. A master wants his boys clean and sweet smelling."

"Well that's that bit of you done. The next bit you'll enjoy." She lifted Marius off her lap and stood him on the floor. She put the flat of her hand in the small of his back encouraging him to bend forward.

She washed along the cleft of his bottom.

"You've got to learn to keep yourself clean here too," she remarked sponging his crack with the damp cloth. Marius's prick stiffened and he pushed his bottom further out towards her.

"That's right my love," Selia cooed softly. " Open your bottom up for me. You're going to make a good little whore I can see," she laughed pushing the cloth between the lips of his anus. Marius gasped as she forced her finger further into him and his cock stood up straight and hard.

When Selia was satisfied that Marius's bottom was clean she handed the soiled cloth to him.

"Get rid of this in the fire and come back to me," she ordered.

Marius trotted obediently off, speeded on his way by a good natured slap from Selia's open hand on his bum. He did not make any attempt this time to hide his erection.

Selia watched him smiling indulgently as he made his way back to her his rigid pricklet wobbling in front of him.

"Could he have something to eat before you take him to his Master?" She asked Crastus's man. "He must be hungry and he has had a hard time."

"The Boss has not come back to the house that I've seen," the man shrugged, "so why not?"

A moment or two later Marius was squatting beside the kitchen fire spooning a bowl of oatmeal gruel hungrily into himself apparently oblivious of the bustle about him.

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