Zelamir
adapted by Pueros

The Traitor's Son

(or Sejanus)

Chapter VI

"Come on brat, the Boss is back," the man advised ominously, "and I think you'll soon have something else, bigger than a finger, up your bum!"

Crastus' colleague was towering over Marius, grinning hungrily. Looking up from where he was crouched on the floor, the boy could see the man's cock bulging upwards, forcing outwards the loincloth beneath his tunic.

The man was clearly anticipating, with intense eagerness, being rewarded soon for his recent work by being allowed to enjoy the delights of Marius' now clean body. Meanwhile, the very pretty boy himself, who was still rather traumatised by recent events and rather ignorant of the brutal ways of the world of Roman politics, had previously given little thought to his imminent destiny. In fact, if he had recognised that rape, followed by strangulation, had been the original plan for him, the 11 year-old might have been less compliant in respect of his Crastus and his colleagues.

Marius scrambled to his feet, feeling sick with fear in respect of what he believed might now come but also strangely excited. The 11 year-old was far from being a complete sexual innocent. A boy at that time, even a free one of the highest class growing up on a country estate, could hardly be anything else, and the man's most recent comment, along with his lecherous look and hardened cock, had hinted at what the youngster might now experience.

Marius had seen boys hobbling about the yard often enough, with dark stains down the inside of their thighs. He had also heard the slave brats concerned talking among themselves.

Marius' father, Sejanus, had possessed an eye for a pretty boy and so had many of the Prefect's friends. It was now the turn of his 11 year-old son to wonder how he would manage to accommodate a man's thick cock inside him. The thought of his bottom being stretched and ripped to accommodate such an implement terrified him, and he appreciated that it was likely that he would now have to satisfy more than one such object.

Besides Crastus and the man currently with him, there were another two companions to be satiated, perhaps with even bigger cocks to ram into Marius' bleeding and torn body. Nevertheless, the boy's current trepidation continued to be accompanied by an incongruous under-current of excitement.

Marius remembered the feel of Crastus' finger inside him, the delicious sensation as Selia sponged his bumcrack and the excited gigglings of the slave brats as they discussed their lovers. They had often whispered among themselves about the pain, and he had seen blood occasionally oozing from their anuses, but they had at the same time boasted about the size of the cocks that had sodomised them and had speculated breathlessly as to whether there would be a repetition.

Clearly there was great pain involved being the subject of sodomy but that could apparently be exceeded by the subsequent excitement and pleasure. As Marius thought of this, his own little prick hardened once more. Selia, who was still watching him and also believed that the boy was imminently to lose his virginity, again laughed indulgently.

"Look at the little whore," Selia exclaimed fondly, "as judging from his cock he seems really eager for his first fuck. Come here, Mariullus, and let me clean your face for your new Master!"

"You're sometimes a grubby little boy, Mariullus," Selia commented, with affection despite the reproach. She then wiped the oatmeal from the boy's lips and chin, down which he had allowed some of his recent meal to dribble during his eagerness to fill his stomach, whilst adding "And we can't let your new Master see you like this!"

Having eventually completed her task, Selia suggested "Now go along with you, Mariullus, and see that you give your new Master and his friends a good time!" Laughing, she then pinched his boy's bare bottom to send him on his way.

By now, Crastus had appropriated the principal rooms of the main house for his own and his men's use. Marius saw his new Master standing just inside the door of the large chamber where his late mother used to summon him to show off her youngest son to guests when she was visiting the estate. Then, the boy would appear, hurriedly bundled into a fresh tunic, his face, hands and knees scrubbed clean by one of her maids, to stand bashfully, shifting from foot to foot, while the grown ups asked him condescending questions or, worse, discussed him as if he was not there.

The memory of his mother now caused Marius the first faint stirrings of resentment at his treatment. Up until then, the boy's spirit had been so cowed by his sudden change of circumstances, along with hunger and fear, that he had not yet really felt all the humiliations being inflicted upon him. However, remembrance of his mother kindled a small spark of anger and rebellion in the 11 year-old's mind. Why was he, the freeborn son of very important Roman citizens, being treated as if he was spawned by common slaves?

Marius did not consider slavery to be incorrect, as it was a part of the natural order of things. What was wrong was that he, the son of elite citizens, should be treated as a slave.

Marius hesitated at the doorway of the room and moved his hands to cover his crutch, suddenly embarrassed by his nakedness. However, the man behind him pushed the boy forward, with an open hand against the pleasant curves of the 11 year-old's bare bottom.

Crastus turned and looked appraisingly at Marius. The boy then felt his stomach somersault in fear, guiltily mixed with excitement. His cock, which had begun to soften, sprang back to attention. The shame engendered by this penile reaction also caused the temporary flame of anger deep in his mind to flicker and die.

Marius wondered how he could he feel like he did? How could he be excited by the touch of a hand on his rump and being brought naked to stand before the man who now claimed to own him, unless he was the same as any other slave slut about the estate?

Marius was eventually brought to a position in the room where he stood immediately before Crastus. "Put your hands down by your sides," the leader of the sinister quartet of strangers then ordered sharply. Hastily, the boy obeyed, thereby revealing his penile excitement.

"Don't try to cover yourself up in front of me again, boy," Crastus grated coldly, eyeing Marius' naked body again. "The little bitch is permanently on heat," he then laughingly remarked to his grinning colleagues, whilst flicking the tip of the lad's erect prick with his thumbnail.

Crastus then took Marius' chin in his hand, tipping the boy's face back so that he could stare down into it. The 11 year-old shivered, as he gazed up into the man's slate grey, cold and pitiless eyes.

"Being a slut runs in the family I suppose," Crastus commented to his companions, "as the brat's brother and sister were the same, the pair of them. The boy and girl were virgins before I took them but they both seemed to enjoy riding my cock like furies when the thing was fairly buried inside them!"

"But didn't you say that they were dead, Sir?" Marius remarked enquiringly, although he could hardly speak for upset and fear, and whilst referring to a grievously sad aside made by Crastus earlier. "They are now, boy," the man answered grimly, "as I can vouch for that personally. Your brother hardly struggled. He knew he had no chance when I put the cord around his neck. However, the girl screamed and kicked a bit. She was a silly little fool, as her actions just prolonged her suffering!"

"Yes," Crastus advised, in response to Marius' look of horror, "I personally strangled the pair of them, as I had to, being a faithful subject of our Emperor Tiberius. I should also kill you, a traitor's son, but it seems a pity to destroy a pretty little thing like you. That tight boy's bottom of yours is too attractive and valuable to waste, as you should make a good price on the auction block for me and my friends!"

Crastus' comment was the first inkling that Marius had gained that his destiny might have been rape and death rather than enslavement, although currently he was unsure which was the worse fate. "But remember, boy," the man continued menacingly, "you live only because I choose to let you do so. Do anything to make me want to change my mind and I'll kill you, and it won't be a quick, easy end, with the cord round your neck. It'll be a long lingering one, suited to a slave brat who fails to please his Master, and I won't give you a quick release by having your arms and legs broken or your body speared after you're nailed on the cross either!"

"Do you hear me boy?" Crastus asked. He then added "And call me Master when you speak to me!"

"Yes, Sir .Master," Marius whispered through trembling lips to the man who had raped and murdered his older brother and sister and whose cold eyes still bore down into those of the appalled and terrified younger boy.

Marius now could not tear his own stare away from Crastus' merciless gaze. Terror instead gripped the boy, whose legs began to quake.

Crastus then released his hold on Marius' chin and the boy's knees gave beneath him. The 11 year-old sank to the floor, and an amber pool began to form on the marble flagstones where he crouched. The lad had lost control of his bladder.

Crastus first stepped back with an expression of disgust. He then roared with laughter.

"You gave the little brat something to think about then boss," the man who had charge of Marius in the kitchen yelled, "but can we give him something more now? Shall we throw dice like you previously suggested for first go at his anus?"

"Neither you, Grynium, nor I, nor any of us are going to fuck his bottom," Crastus replied levelly, "as we're going to sell a virgin bum when we get back to Rome to recompense us for the bother of journeying out to this awful place. Such a pretty slut should fetch a decent price as long as we keep his hole undamaged!"

"The Emperor won't like that if he finds out," Grynium remarked, as he aired his doubts about the proposal, with an additional air of disappointment that his cock might be deprived of suitable entertainment, "as he's ordered the boy to be killed."

"He won't find out," Crastus replied, "as I've got the bailiff to give me a receipt in writing for the brat's dead carcass and an undertaking he will dispose of it. If anyone asks for evidence that we've done our duty faithfully, we produce that. As for the boy, nobody will listen to what a slave says and anyway he won't disclose his origins, unless he wants to be killed like his brother and sister!"

"I was looking forward to fucking him though," Grynium remarked regretfully. "Don't worry," Crastus responded, "as we'll not be without a boy to fuck tonight. Varro, bring that bitch Pulchellus here!"

From where he currently huddled on the floor, Marius saw the bailiff's dark-haired beauty, one year older than the youngest son of Sejanus, being dragged forward, whilst Crastus' companions laughed and whistled. It was immediately clear to the 11 year-old that the 12 year-old had recently suffered a hard time. A thick livid weal was visible across the front of the boy's thighs, just below the bottom of his short, tassel-fringed tunic and marring the taught, light brown skin. The covering garment was itself soiled and torn, with the wearer's eyes red from crying and his face bruised.

Marius felt no pity for the other boy, only relief that he was for the moment at least no longer the subject of Crastus' terrifying attention. He had always disliked Pulchellus, in so far as he had any feelings about a creature previously so much his social inferior.

Unlike the brats his father owned, Marius had no jurisdiction over the property of the freedman, Echion, who was much better fed and clothed than the generality of the slave boys on the estate and was hated and mistrusted by the others. Pulchellus was regarded as a spy and an informer for his Master, the bailiff.

Pulchellus could personally do Marius no harm. However, the latter had heard the talk among the slaves and had seen the bloodied shoulders or rumps of lads whose misdeeds had been espied and reported to Echion by his fancy boy.

Marius accepted that slave boys should be beaten occasionally when really deserved, as otherwise they might become disobedient and lazy. However, he despised Pulchellus as a sneak who betrayed his own sort.

"Give me the cane, Varro," Crastus commanded, "as I've promised to instil a bit of discipline into this tart!" The implement was a vicious-looking object, about three feet long, tapered, split and bound with waxed cord at the end to give it extra bite.

The cane now leapt and quivered in Crastus' hand, as he became reacquainted with its weight. Meanwhile, Pulchellus threw himself on his knees at the man's feet.

"Master, please, Master," the kneeling Pulchellus whimpered, at the same time quickly affirming Crastus' new status in the boy's life, "please don't beat me Master. I'll do anything you want but please don't beat me!"

Pulchellus' desperate pleadings were then interrupted by a high pitched scream, as Crastus slashed the boy across his chest with the cane. "Shut up, tart," the man then ordered, "as you've got a few lessons to learn. One is that you don't speak unless you are spoken to. Now stand up and take that tunic off!"

Pulchellus scrambled to his feet, pulling his tunic off over his head and revealing that the cane had raised an angry crimson welt across his chest, which was deepening to purple at the edges, as the bruising spread. The naked boy now stood facing Crastus, shivering with fright, his garment clasped uncertainly in his right hand.

Crastus leant forward and, snatching the tunic from Pulchellus, hurled it to the floor. The garment fell into Marius' urine puddle.

"The dirtying of your tunic doesn't matter," Crastus observed coldly to Pulchellus, "because you won't be wearing it, or anything else, again. Now, keep your hands by your sides!"

Crastus raised the cane over his left shoulder, clearly intending to land a back-handed cut across Pulchellus' chest. The very pretty boy responded by screwing up his face in terror.

"Open your eyes, tart," Crastus growled, cruelly wanting Pulchellus to be a spectator of his own caning. When the boy had reluctantly obeyed the instruction, the man then brought the cane hissing down across the front of the lad's bare chest.

The end of the cruel rod had landed across Pulchellus' left nipple, just missing the tip but splitting the flesh. For a fraction of a second, the young victim of the blow stared at the wound, as blood welled from it. Then, the excruciating pain hit him.

Screaming shrilly, Pulchellus clasped both hands to his torn flesh and collapsed to his knees. The boy fell forward so that his head rested on the floor, whilst his bottom was raised into the air. A piercing wailing simultaneously rose from the 12 year-old's shuddering body.

"Get up, tart," Crastus snapped and brought the cane slicing down across Pulchellus' vulnerable taught rump. The boy yelped and raised his face, tear-stained and contorted with pain. He then somehow began to climb back to his feet but he was not quick enough to satisfy his new Master. Burying his free hand in the 12 year-old's dark curly hair, the man yanked him to his feet.

"I said keep your hands down by your side," Crastus snapped, knocking Pulchellus' hands away from his chest. The sadistic man then lent forward and took the injured nipple between his finger and thumb, simultaneously squeezing it harshly to ring further screams from his young victim.

"Echion was too soft on you, my boy," Crastus gritted, "because he spoilt you. You belong to me now, and I don't spoil my slaves because otherwise they might get insolent and lazy. You've got a lot to learn and the first lesson is to fear me!"

Crastus released his grip on Pulchellus' nipple and licked the blood from his finger and thumb. "Now I'm going to thrash you," he then announced, quietly hooking his foot round a nearby stool, pulling it towards him.

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to beat you as much as I'd like and you undoubtedly deserve," Crastus then declared, "as we'll need you to be able to serve us tonight and be capable of bearing a load tomorrow. However, six strokes across your pert little bottom should be sufficient to show you what a disobedient, lazy slave brat can expect at my hands. Get down over that stool, head down and your bum in the air. I want your skin stretched good and tight for your beating!"

Crastus then helped the crying Pulchellus to assume the required position. The man temporarily dropped his cane before slipping his right hand between the boy's legs and, cupping it around the lad's balls, pushing upwards against the young crutch, while with his left hand pushed downwards on the back of the 12 year-old's head.

Finally satisfied that he had positioned Pulchellus correctly for the job in hand, Crastus stepped back. He then picked up the cane again and rested it across the boy's upturned rump. The 12 year-old, feeling the touch of the rod on his curvaceous buttocks, instinctively clamped his bumcrack tight shut in terror.

"When did Echion thrash you last boy?" Crastus now asked nonchalantly. "I... don't... .remember, Master," Pulchellus muttered fearfully through his tears.

"I thought so," Crastus remarked, "as there's not a mark on your bottom apart from the two cuts I've given you today. Echion was much too soft on you, but that'll all change now!"

Chapter VII

The flexible cane curled round Pulchellus' bottom, the split tip cutting the boy on his flank. The 12 year-old's pretty body simultaneously jerked convulsively, as the weapon struck home.

Pulchellus threw his pleasant head back, and for a moment there was silence as he fought for breath. However, this quiet intermission was soon ended when the 12 year-old began to scream, whilst his lithe arms and legs flailed because of the acute pain now coursing though his body. In his agony, the lad rolled off the stool and tumbled to the floor, where he curled in a little ball of naked boy misery on the marble flags, sobbing wildly.

Crastus swore and kicked Pulchellus in the ribs, the force of the blow lifting the boy's body from the flags. "Get back up, you miserable little runt," he grated before turning to his men and instructing "One of you hold him for me!"

Varro stepped forward, grinning broadly. He twisted his right hand in Pulchellus' dark curls and dragged him back across the stool. Then, pinning the boy in place with his left hand pressed flat against the small of the lad's back, he nodded to Crastus, signalling that he might care to resume his thrashing of the 12 year-old.

Marius quietly hunkered on the floor, watching fearfully as the flogging proceeded. A beating was not an unusual event on the estate and he had seen many boys over the years having their bums tanned for various misdemeanours. Often such events would attract an audience, amused by the cries and twistings of the brat under correction. However, the enjoyment of the drama by any young male slaves watching was a trifle marred by the thought that it might fall to anyone of them to play the starring role on the next occasion the cane or whip was brought into play.

Marius himself had, in the past, been beaten on occasion by his father or his tutor but always, as befitted the dignity of a free boy of high social standing, without the benefit of grinning spectators. However, nothing he had seen or experienced matched the cold ferocity with which Crastus now went about his work of flaying the tender bottom of the unfortunate Pulchellus. The open, savage pleasure with which the man and his companions seemed to enjoy the frantic writhings of the helpless 12 year-old were also new to the appalled young spectator.

Methodically, Crastus laid stripe upon stripe across Pulchellus' defenceless bum, pausing between each stroke to ensure that the writhing, screaming boy could feel each individual cut to the full. The cane scored livid lines across the sweet curves of the child's rump, the tip curling round the firm quivering flesh to raise beads of blood.

Crastus' companions laughed and shouted, revelling in Pulchellus' agony and cheering their leader on. However, the flogging slowly eventually drew to a conclusion.

Crastus then lent forward to examine his handiwork, running a fingertip along one of the welts that now marred the previously very pleasant curves of Pulchellus' smooth, light brown skin with a line of angry red, deepening at the edges to purple. He noticed that, around the earlier cuts, the boy's tender flesh was beginning to take a yellowish, almost green, tinge, as the deeper bruising began to show through.

Crastus smiled, pleased at a job well done. Then, standing upright and shifting his position slightly, he delivered the final cut of the punishment, laying it deliberately across the stripes he had earlier inflicted. He earned another loud, anguished yelp from his young victim, as, at each point of intersection, blood began to well from Pulchellus' broken flesh.

Varro then released his hold on Pulchellus' hair and the boy sank to his knees, huddled against the stool, his body wracked by sobs.

"That," remarked Crastus, panting slightly after his exertions, "has given me a thirst!"

Chapter VIII

"Only the best wine in the cellar and goblets in the kitchen will do," Crastus continued, "and tell the servants to bring our dinner to us here as soon as it's ready. Grynium, keep an eye on the brats whilst they perform their errand, as we don't want them fleeing, do we?"

Crastus prodded the still prone Pulchellus on the bottom with his foot in order to encourage the boy to stand up and embark on his mission with Marius. By doing so, he wrung a further howl of pain from the boy.

"Now you've got your blood on my boot you filthy little brute," Crastus subsequently commented in disgust. "Lick it clean, brat, before you do anything else," the man therefore also ordered.

The still sobbing and tearful Pulchellus somehow managed to rouse himself to lick Crastus' boot clean of his own blood before standing and leaving the room with the similarly naked Marius and the watchful Grynium. As they proceeded on their errand, Sejanus' son could hear the other boy snivelling beside him as they padded on bare feet along the outside marble-floored corridor.

Marius' sympathy for Pulchellus' suffering then overcame his dislike of the boy and he silently offered him his hand. However, the 12 year-old brushed the proffered palm to one side contemptuously.

Pulchellus' tears were not only of pain but also of anger and humiliation. The very pretty boy believed that he was something special. After all, his old master, Echion, had often told him so.

Pulchellus considered himself to be the best little tart on the estate, namely the liveliest fuck with the sweetest bottom and the nimblest tongue. However, he had now been stripped and beaten as though he was just a common little slave brat.

Pulchellus did not want sympathy from Marius, who, in his opinion, when the younger boy had been the free son of the very important owner of the estate, had clearly disliked Echion's catamite. The 12 year-old had believed that, what he considered to be, regular slights towards him provided the evidence for such an attitude, although they were in fact unintended and unnoticed by the alleged perpetrator.

Marius did dislike Pulchellus but he did not deliberately attempt openly to display his distaste. The younger boy had simply diplomatically tried to avoid Echion's catamite. However, the latter incorrectly considered such action to be insulting disdain.

Consequently, Pulchellus, who had also resented Marius' previously privileged lifestyle, despised the younger boy in return. The 12 year-old also recognised that, now that they had been reduced to the same level of servitude, he could more safely display his hatred, which he fully intended to do in a vengeful manner.

Pulchellus' spiteful attitude was only exacerbated by the fact that Marius had witnessed his humiliation and punishment at the hands of Crastus, whose favour he was already, even in his current misery, planning to win, as he had once done of his old master, Echion. If he could do so in order to try to safeguard himself from the man's cruel brutality and, at the same time, manoeuvre the other boy into trouble, the success of his plan would be even sweeter.

Not only did Pulchellus now hate Marius but also he saw the younger boy as a rival, at least until Crastus sold them on to others. The 12 year-old felt no sympathy or solidarity with fellow slaves. He selfishly sought only to try to make his own life of servitude as easy as possible, and who could really blame him?

The world was cruel and slaves like Pulchellus were not humans and therefore possessed no rights. They were just the chattels and tools of the free, who could do anything they wanted with their property, as Marius was soon to discover.

Marius and Pulchellus arrived in the busy hot kitchen. For a moment, the nude boys went unnoticed in the bustle and heat of the large room. One of the half-naked youths, engaged in washing saucepans in the great sink, located just inside the door, then saw them. He grinned and nudged his neighbour and whispers soon ran round the amenity.

"Pulchellus, dearest," a mincingly affected voice subsequently enquired, "is your poor little bottom sore?" "Did the nasty new Master cane your bum, sweetie?" giggled another.

Pulchellus blushed crimson, as other slaves joined in taunting him. One of them also flicked a wet dishcloth at the 12 year-old's raw rump, snapping the towel painfully against his sore flesh. The boy immediately spun round to face his tormentor but another youth darted up behind him and slapped him harshly across the bottom.

The watching Marius knew it was common practice to tease boys who appeared in the kitchen bearing marks of a recent beating on their bums. He had seen such torments often before, with freedmen and slaves, young and old, joining in the process. However, on this occasion, proceedings appeared to possess an extra edge of violence and cruelty.

The bailiff was not a popular man and his favourite bumboy and spy less so. Now, with Pulchellus deprived of his protection, the workers in the kitchen took the opportunity of settling old scores.

An infant kicked Pulchellus, whilst a much larger youth clouted him on the side of the head. Soon hard blows with hands and feet were raining down from every side on the 12 year-old, who was helpless to do much to defend himself and therefore just sank to his knees, trying to cover his head with his arms.

Grynium therefore attempted to intervene. The man tried to drive Pulchellus' many tormentors away but, as fast as he knocked one off the boy, another darted forward.

Marius, largely unnoticed in the mayhem, wriggled clear of the scene and ran across the kitchen to where the cook, usually a stickler for discipline in his domain, stood by the stove, a heavy ladle in his hand. The man was watching the commotion with a faint smile on his fat cheerful face.

"Daedalus," panted Marius initially, whilst referring to the cook's name. The boy, subsequently seeing a frown cross the man's face and remembering his own changed status, then added a hasty "Sir".

"Daedalus, Sir," Marius next begged, whilst feeling a little ashamed at having to give one of his late father's slaves such a title, "please stop them. They'll really harm Pulchellus' soon if you don't!"

Daedalus considered the plea for a few moments before perhaps realising that the sinister Crastus might not like Pulchellus to be harmed by anyone other than himself or his men. He therefore began to move ponderously across the kitchen towards the disturbance. However, he still did not hurry himself.

Daedalus remembered a dispute with Echion, during which the bailiff had alleged an over-ordering of provisions. The cook had been sure that Pulchellus had played a major informing role in trying to bring an end to this, in his view traditional, perquisite of his office.

Pulchellus was down on the floor. He could hardly be seen beneath the surging mass of vengeful boys and youths struggling to punch or kick him, as older onlookers cheered them.

Severe retribution was being extracted by many against Pulchellus for the snide tales that he had frequently previously passed on to Echion, which had often resulted in the punishment of other slaves. In fact, the sheer number of his assailants alone probably prevented the 12 year-old from being seriously injured.

After Daedalus had finally arrived at the fray, he wasted no time. The cook used his ladle, cracking the implement down on young close-cropped heads, bare shoulders and bottoms. Pulchellus' juvenile attackers therefore quickly scattered, leaving their victim still crouched on the floor, with his hands clasped on top of his head, whilst blood swelled from between his fingers and trickled down his once more tearful face.

"What do you mean by coming in here and creating chaos in my kitchen?" Daedalus then asked of Pulchellus, whose naked curled and hurting frame the cook prodded with a foot in order to encourage a quick answer. The man was clearly satisfied that order had now been restored to his kitchen and was now following the well-tried political expedient of blaming the victim for the acts of the aggressor.

Pulchellus remained silent, probably because his present grief was too great to notice Daedalus prodding him with his foot or the cook's verbal question. Marius too hesitated to answer, whilst Grynium also now began to tap his boot against the 12 year-old's prone form and cursed him for allowing himself to be injured.

Daedalus repeated his question with increased anger and more violent physical prodding. However, Pulchellus remained silent and so Marius considerately realised that he would have to answer on the other boy's behalf to prevent any further harm, although he feared that what he had to say would do nothing to decrease the cook's irritation.

"Daedalus, Sir, please Sir," Marius intervened, "we have orders from the man that you're to send him and his companions some wine, and he insisted that it must be the finest in the cellar and be served in the best goblets. He also wants dinner for four as soon as possible!"

Daedalus looked across into the nervous frightened face of Marius and his anger evaporated. The cook had always possessed affection for the pleasant boy, who had never displayed any real pomposity or cruelty towards his late father's servants. The man's attitude persisted, even after the 11 year-old's loss of freedom.

Such affection did not mean that Daedalus, or anyone like him, would continue to treat Marius in the same way as the past. The boy was effectively a slave now and would be treated as such.

Crastus' proposals in respect of Marius were, of course, not only against Tiberius' orders but also completely illegal. No free Roman boy could be enslaved without either parental approval or a court order. However, given the circumstances, no-one aware of the plans, even the 11 year-old himself or his allies amongst his late father's estate household, were going to object or inform in respect of such an outcome. After all, such a future for the child was surely better than rape and execution.

Daedalus could clearly remember the day when he had himself been a boy and the Imperial tax collectors had called at his own father's tiny farm with a court order. The youngest child had then been taken and enslaved to pay a parental debt.

Daedalus did not blame his parents for letting the tax collectors take possession of him. After all, the choice was either the boy or the large family's sole oxen, without which they would all have starved.

The fates had decreed that Daedalus should be a slave and they had decided the same for Marius, albeit technically illegally. The cook had once had to concede to such a destiny and now the boy would have to as well if he wished to live. The outcome was harsh but formed part of the natural order and must be accepted.

Beforehand, Daedalus had treated Marius with the friendly respect due to the master's son, and had provided him with the occasional sticky sweet almond and date cake, of which the boy had been so fond. However, the cook now regarded the child with the amused indulgence that you would accord to a puppy or any other lively young animal.

Such indulgence, however, had to have limits. A young animal might be played with but it must also be broken and disciplined. There was something about Marius' reply to Daedalus' recent question that did not please the cook.

"Who did boy?" Daedalus enquired sternly, in respect of the person referred to in Marius' reply. "He did, Sir, the man ."

"I know he is a man," Daedalus commented with irritation, "you said so before." The cook had dinner to prepare for the household and could not spend an indefinite amount of time trying to teach this boy, pleasant and pretty as he was, manners, including how to convey messages properly.

Daedalus therefore approached Marius and lifted his hand to strike the 11 year-old with the ladle. "Who is this man," the cook then asked, whilst delivering a hard blow to the pretty head below him, "who is he now to you, boy?"

"My ... my ... .Master, Sir," Marius muttered, whilst rubbing his suddenly sore head. The boy was also overcome by shame at finally affording such a title to Crastus, which caused him instinctively to stare at the ground and rub one bare foot against the shin of his other leg in embarrassment.

"Yes he is your Master," Daedalus retorted, whilst delivering another painful blow of his ladle to Marius' head in order to encourage remembrance, "and deserves your reverence, boy, and don't you forget it. Now give me his message properly, and look me in the face and speak up whilst doing so!"

Marius subsequently overcame his embarrassment in order to comply with Daedalus' instruction. "Please, Sir," the humiliated boy advised, whilst obediently looking into he smirking cook's flabby face, "we have orders from my Master that you're to send him and his companions some wine, and he insisted that it must be the finest in the cellar and be served in the best goblets. My Master also wants dinner for four as soon as possible!"

"That's better, boy," Daedalus remarked. "Now I'll fetch the wine," the cook added, "although it's really the steward's job. However, he's away on business and he's left me the keys. I'll try to find something decent for your Master to put him in a good temper with you!"

Daedalus then hurried off. Marius subsequently noticed that Grynium had tired of cursing Pulchellus and prodding the prone boy with his foot. Selia had now taken the opportunity to practice her healing skills on the 12 year-old.

Selia was seated on a stool, with her skirt pulled up above her knees and Pulchellus crouching between her legs. The tearful boy had his head bowed whilst the woman used the fingers of one hand to part his hair in order to expose the torn scalp and then pore stinging white powder on the open wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Miss….ouch….please," Pulchellus pleaded urgently between anguished gasps, as Selia performed her painful ministrations on him, "please….ouch….just let me have a bit….ouch….just enough to grease me. Please, Miss….ouch….there's four of them and….ouch….they're all going to fuck me….ouch….and I'm sure they'll have much bigger cocks….ouch….than Echion!"

"I expect they have, Pulchellus," replied a smiling Selia, sounding amused. "From what I've heard," she added, "your last Master was not much of a man, although, being a woman, I wouldn't have first-hand knowledge of his cock!"

"And no I won't let you have any grease," Selia advised, "not unless your new Master says I should. He might want your bum to be fucked dry. Perhaps he's looking forward to hurting and tearing you, and where would I be if I spoiled his fun?"

Pulchellus shuddered. Selias' speculations about the tastes and wishes of Crastus seemed to the boy to be all too likely.

Nevertheless, Pulchellus was not going to give up his entreaties too quickly. "Miss, I won't use it unless he says I can," the boy continued desperately, "I promise, Miss .really .please, Miss!"

Selia, satisfied the flow of blood on Pulchellus' scalp had been stopped, tipped back the boy's head and, picking up a damp cloth, began to wipe the dried blood and tears from his usually very pretty face. "You must believe I'm pretty stupid," she simultaneously laughed, "if you think I believe a word that you or any other slave brat says. You'll all say anything and swear anything to escape being hurt!"

"Please .Miss ." Pulchellus then began to say again but Marius' attention was now suddenly distracted by a sharp clip on the side of his head. The naked boy swung round rubbing his stinging ear to see that Daedalus had returned from the cellars.

"If you can spare me a moment of your time, boy," Daedalus advised sarcastically, "I've brought two jugs of wine for your new Master." The cook nodded to the table beside him, on which stood two large silver ewers brimming with dark red, almost purple, liquid.

Marius gazed in amazement at the ornate jugs and the adjacent matching quartet of silver goblets. He had only seen them fleetingly from a distance in the past, being carried into the dining room when his father had been entertaining some of his special cronies to dinner, which were occasions deemed unsuitable for a free boy of his age.

Marius had also noticed that, although he was banished to bed at such times, there were always many pretty slave boys of his own age and even younger in attendance on his father and guests. The fine and elaborate decoration of the jugs and goblets, which the astute 11 year-old now saw from a much closer distance, provided a clear clue as to why such young male slaves had been present at the banquets.

Embossed satyrs with huge erections were depicted on the silver jugs and goblets, chasing beautiful young naked boys through wooded glades or, having been successful in their pursuit, burying their monstrous cocks into the slim bodies of their prey. However, Marius' mental reflection in respect of the obscene portrayals was quickly ended.

"Pay attention, boy," Daedalus had snapped. "Yes, Sir," Marius had answered, reverting his glance from jugs to cook.

Marius then screwed up his face, into what any onlooker would see as a comical grimace of apprehension. The boy had seen and laughed at Daedalus carrying out this little entertainment of his often enough in the past on other young slaves to know what was coming to him and he knew that people in the kitchen were turning to watch the fun.

"Well keep your hands down by your side then," Daedalus commanded, whilst again picking up his heavy ladle and once more bringing the implement down hard on the crown of Marius' head.

"Are you listening boy?" Daedalus subsequently asked, whilst Marius knew better than to rub his sore head again, whilst this scene was enacted. "Yes, Sir," the hurting boy instead simply once more replied.

"You are to inform your new Master," Daedalus then instructed, "that this wine is choice Falerian from the prime upper slopes and dates from the first year of the reign of the Divine Augustus. Repeat what are you to tell him!"

Marius, standing obediently to attention, with his hands firmly against the sides of his bare thighs and his face twisted in fear of the next blow that he knew was to come, recited in his answer in his clear boyish soprano voice. "I must inform my Master," the abashed 11 year-old announced, "that the wine is choice Falerian from the prime upper slopes and dates from the reign of the Divine Augustus!"

"Don't forget then, boy," Daedalus subsequently ordered, whilst rewarding Marius for his good memory by again banging the ladle down on top of the 11 year-old's head, thereby making the child's ears ring.

"Now," Daedalus commented, whilst turning to Grynium, "if the other boy is ready, the pair of brats can each carry a jug and two of the four silver goblets. Perhaps they'll even manage not to spill some wine, especially as they'll know that, if they do, their backsides might feel the strap of their new Master!"

"What about our dinner?" Grynium demanded roughly. "It'll be artichokes with fish pickle sauce," Daedalus replied, "followed by boiled pork stew with olives and then figs in honey to finish. Send the brats down in half an hour to fetch the first course!"

"That sounds all right," Grynium said ungraciously and, followed by Marius and the partially recovered Pulchellus, stumped from the kitchen, whilst Daedalus pulled a rude face at his back. Like nearly everybody else whose paths crossed those of Crastus and his companions, the cook was ready to do anything the men wanted in the hope that if he did they would go away quickly and inflict themselves on someone else.

Crastus and his three companions subsequently quickly emptied one of the jugs of wine. Pulchellus, whose extra bruises had been ignored by his new master, was then returned to the kitchen to obtain a refill, whilst Marius was kept busy topping up the goblets with the contents of the other silver container.

The silver jug was heavy and Marius had to use both hands to pour the wine, which left him defenceless against the pawing attentions of the increasingly drunken men. As the naked boy served the strong red liquid, rough fingers strayed over his gorgeous body, caressing the inside of his legs, stroking his bottom, toying with his little cock and small hairless balls, and generally poking and prying into the most intimate recesses of his form.

The men frightened Marius, especially Crastus. The boy could not look at his heavy strong body and broad hands, with their hairy backs and thick stubby fingers, without remembering that the adult had raped and killed both his brother and his sister.

Marius despised Crastus but, despite his revulsion at having to serve the man and allow his hands to paw his body, the boy also found himself becoming increasingly excited and so he began to hate himself too. Surely, the 11 year-old thought, he could not enjoy the caresses of an adult male, who had treated his own brother and sister so cruelly. However, the child's stiff cock betrayed the shameful fact that he was indeed being pleasured.

Pulchellus eventually returned from the kitchen with more wine, having on this occasion been spared the bullying previously endured there. The four men then became drunker and wilder.

Pulchellus circulated with the newly refilled jug, and was also subjected to intimate fondling. However, the boy, keen to gain the favour of the men, especially Crastus, reacted rather differently to the blushing but quiescent Marius.

Pulchellus deliberately lingered for a while by each man he served, whilst wriggling his little sore bottom invitingly as he moved about the room, with his rosy lips half parted and his eyes glazed with lust. Marius, whose own jug was now empty, tried to use the opportunity to fade into the background but Crastus soon demanded a fresh service from him.

"Bring the empty jug here, boy, as I want to pee," Crastus shouted. Marius subsequently found himself kneeling in front of the man.

Marius held his the jug ready, and was rewarded when a stream of tarty smelling amber fluid jetted from Crastus' cock, only a few inches away from the boy's face, to fill the bottom of the ewer with frothing urine. The 11 year-old, who had never seen a man's penis so close before, wondered at its size and the great blue veins that ribbed it. He also wondered how Pulchellus' bottom would accommodate so monstrous an object.

Crastus eventually shook the last drops of liquid from his prick and wiped his fingers dry on Marius' short silky fair hair. Another of the men subsequently shouted for the boy, who then went from adult to adult as they emptied their bladders into the increasingly heavy jug.

Varro was the last to call for Marius' services. The boy again knelt at a man's feet, holding a few inches from his young pretty face his heavy jug, which was now more than three-quarters full of steaming urine.

When Varro had finished relieving himself, a single bead of fluid hung from the tip of his large hairy penis. "Lick it off," the grinning man then ordered of the shocked and appalled Marius.

"Don't hurry the boy," Crastus shouted from across the room, "as I don't want to do anything that'll cut his value on the auction block. He'll learn to suck cock soon enough, don't you worry."

"Marius give that jug to Pulchellus," Crastus continued, "and come over here to me, as it's time we became better acquainted." "After all, I knew your big brother and sister very well," he added with a brutal laugh.

Before Marius could obey, Pulchellus pushed him aside, apparently eager to take the younger boy's place at Varro' feet. Without awaiting further instruction, the 12 year-old then lent forward to introduce the tip of his tongue to the droplet of urine at the end of the man's cock.

Whilst the amazed younger boy looked on, Pulchellus then lingered briefly before licking and exploring Varro's penile slit with his tongue. "Marius," Crastus's voice then resounded round the room, assuming an edge of impatience, "come here!"

Marius rose to his feet and began to walk towards Crastus, fearing what was to come next but, at the same time, as was evident from his little erection, deeply excited.

Chapter IX

Crastus next extended his left arm round Marius' chest to tease the boy's lefthand nipple roughly with his fingers. Meanwhile, the man's other hand rested for a moment just above the boy's right knee before beginning a slow teasing journey up the inside of the youngster's thigh.

Stirring uneasily in increasingly libidinous reaction to Crastus' lewd attentions, Marius could not help but eventually moan softly, whilst throwing his head back. In response, the man bent forward and nuzzled the side of the boy's neck, whilst his right hand finally reached the 11 year-old's completely smooth crotch.

For a moment, Crastus subsequently gently rolled Marius' small hairless balls between his finger and thumb before carefully cupping them in the palm of his hand. The man then withdrew his hand and pulled the boy further back so that his young bottom was pressed tight into his own adult groin.

Marius now felt Crastus' erection through the coarse material of the man's tunic, pressing uncomfortably hard against his young naked rear. The boy therefore wriggled a little so that the adult's swollen cock was resting more easily along the cleft of his bottom, which resulted in further apparently very happy penile growth.

This penile phenomenon caused the insatiably curious Marius to want to forget all decorum and instead experiment by continuing to move his bottom carefully up and down against Crastus' eager erection. "Well done, boy," the man whispered into the 11 year-old's ear in satisfied reaction.

"Go on," Crastus added, in a successful effort to encourage Marius not to stop and whilst his manly penile swelling and throbbing increased even more substantially in response, "you good little slut. You really want it. Don't you, you little whore?"

Despite the insults inherent in Crastus' words, Marius shamefully complied with the request to continue because the feel of the man's hard cock rubbing the lips of his virginal anus somehow, even through the intervening tunic, filled him with intense excitement. This situation was exemplified by his own maintenance of a fulsome but, of course, much smaller erection and a glazing of his sensuous blue eyes.

Nevertheless, amidst his increasing sexual excitement, Marius managed to look across the room, where he saw Pulchellus squatting between Varro's opened knees. The boy's head was buried in the man's hairy groin.

Pulchellus had taken Varro's cock into his mouth. The cheeks of the boy's pretty face were also sunken as he sucked on the large manly penis.

Marius' attention to Pulchellus' activities then suddenly stopped when he next felt Crastus' hands again intimately fondle his nude and shamefully willing young body. The boy was simply enjoying himself too much for any considerations of personal disgrace at his reaction to such activities intervening to dampen his ardour.

Marius did momentarily contemplate the fact that the hands molesting him were those of a rapist and killer and not just of anyone. Crastus had defiled and then murdered the boy's own elder brother and sister. However, the present delectable feelings overwhelming his form encouraged him to the notion that currently at least he did not care about the man's previous perfidies, as he only desired the continuation of the delicious sensations.

'Perhaps it's true that I'm just a whore,' Marius mind considered, as he began to pant and strain in his eagerness. Meanwhile, Crastus smiled at the boy's clearly eager submission to his expert sexual ministrations, learnt from playing with many other similar young sluts over the years.

Crastus now put one hand under Marius' groin and momentarily eased the panting boy partly clear of his lap. The 11 year- old next felt the man's tunic being pulled away from under him.

After the lustrous curves of Marius' bare bottom were subsequently allowed back down to rest again on Crastus' lap, there was now nothing between his bare bumcrack and the man's distended cock. Nevertheless, the boy resumed moving the cleft carefully up and down against the adult's eager erection

At the same time, Varro finally seized Pulchellus harshly by the ears. He subsequently rather brutally dragged the boy's head forward to bury the full substantial length of his manly cock in the 12 year-old's mouth.

Varro next began to work Pulchellus' head backwards and forwards, as he mercilessly sodomised the boy's oral orifice. The man then eventually cried out and Marius saw him arch his body as the 12 year-old sucked and swallowed desperately.

Thankfully for Pulchellus' ability to breathe, Varro quickly released the boy's ears and the 12 year-old fell backwards onto his bottom. Some white fluid trickled from between his lips and down his chin.

Marius simultaneously felt the blood pulsing faster in Crastus' tumid cock. The man then jerked convulsively, whilst pulling his erection backwards, and the boy soon felt jets of warm sticky fluid splash upwards against the small of his back.

Crastus grunted and pushed Marius roughly away, tipping the boy onto the floor. The 11 year-old subsequently knelt there on all fours, aching with unassuaged need. His little cock was still robustly hard and copious manly sperm was trickling down his bare back and bottom.

"Pulchellus," Crastus next shouted after a moment's rest, "come here!" The boy obediently scrambled to his feet, whilst wiping Varro's seed from his lips and chin with the back of his hand.

Pulchellus then trotted compliantly over to Crastus. The boy's own cock was still was hard and wobbled stiffly in front of him as he moved.

Crastus said nothing but instead pointed. Still wanting to please and understanding the gesture, Pulchellus therefore bent forward and licked the extraneous cum off the man's softening cockhead, as well as the spilt spent sperm from the dark hairs that covered his stomach and crotch.

"And the other whore too!" Crastus eventually rasped, after Pulchellus had accomplished his literally distasteful chore. Consequently, the 12 year-old knelt behind Marius to lick away the man's semen from the younger boy's back, with his tongue also lapping the thickening liquid from where it had begun to trickle down the cleft of the other youngster's bottom.

Marius' own still hard cock quivered in delighted reaction to the feel of Pulchellus' tongue on his body, especially when it ran down his bumcrack. The younger boy had never previously experienced such delicious feelings and he did not want such intimate attention to stop. However, Crastus had other ideas.

"Well," Crastus next commented whilst laughing, "you've had your supper, Pulchellus. It's now time for you and Marius to bring us ours. Off with you both once more to the kitchen!"

"Varro," Crastus subsequently asked, after the two naked boys had left the room, "was the dark-haired brat any good!" "Well boss," the other man replied with a grin, "if his bottom's as good to fuck as his mouth, we won't have anything to complain about!"

Chapter X

Meanwhile, Pulchellus had to move around the room serving the food and wine, whilst enduring the men's lewd jibes and fondling. However, as he moved among them, the boy was still attempting to make the best of his situation to gain favour.

Pulchellus therefore deliberately wriggled his own bottom invitingly, whilst giggling at the men's crude quips and intimate manhandling. The boy even appeared to enjoy rather than to resent their lecherous attentions, whilst he alluringly looked at them with clear seductiveness.

Evidence for Pulchellus' seductive enjoyment came from his slightly parted mouth, from which his tongue regularly emerged to lick his lips, his rather glazed eyes and his small boyish cock straining upwards. These symptoms seemed to verify that he was himself in a state of high sexual excitement.

"Boss, who's going to fuck this tight-arsed little slut first?" Grynium eventually asked of Crastus, whilst his hand stroked Pulchellus' bottom, which was normally extremely nice but currently besmirched by the linear bruises resulting from his recent caning. The boy had finished serving the final course of figs and honey and had been called over by the man to refill his goblet with wine.

"Well," Crastus answered generously, "Me and Varro have already shot our loads, so we both need some time for rest and recuperation. I therefore think that the privilege rests between you and Lucillus!"

"Only after you two have fucked the slut," Crastus continued, "will me and Varro have our turn. As I'm the oldest of us and so I take longer to get back on form, I'll go last!"

Crastus then took a fig from his plate between his finger and thumb and popped the little fruit into Marius' mouth. "As for which of you two goes first," he subsequently added, "you can decide that between yourselves, perhaps by throwing a dice!"

"As thoughtful humane people," Grynium responded with a cruel grin, "I think that we should allow the man with the smallest cock to go first. That should lead to less tearing of the brat's bum!"

"But which of us is the smallest?" enquired Lucillus. "Let the whore decide," Grynium answered, "as, after all, it's his rump we'll be fucking!"

"Fair enough," Lucillus replied, whilst unsteadily climbing to his feet and pulling off his tunic and loincloth underwear. "You strip too, Grynium," he then suggested, "as the slut can't be expected to choose between our cocks unless he can get a clear view of both of them!"

Grynium complied and the two men proved to be very similar in build. They were heavily muscled brutes, well suited to their cruel profession. However, Lucillus' body was topped with a thick matt of coarse ginger hair, whilst the hirsute covering of the other was black and, except about his chest and crotch, less prolific.

Marius, from his place nestling on Crastus' knees, gazed in wonder at the two men's already partly swollen cocks. There appeared to him to be little to choose between them in size.

Marius also wondered how Pulchellus would be able to accommodate the fully bloated versions within his slim body. The boy then shivered when the thought struck him that in time he too would now probably have to bear the agony of a man's penis forcing his bottom open and penetrating deep into his insides.

Meanwhile, Pulchellus' previous act of apparent enjoyment at serving the libidinous men had ceased and worry was now the obvious prevalent emotion expressed by his face. The boy was, of course, no virgin. His previous master, Echion, had sodomised him on a regular basis. However, the estate steward only possessed a small cock, which had been relatively easy to accommodate, especially after his catamite had become accustomed to the relevant sexual act. The much bigger penises now displayed by Grynium and Lucillus, and previously by Crastus and Varro, represented another challenge entirely.

Pulchellus' bottom would have not only to accommodate more monstrous cocks than usual but also to entertain four in succession. The experience was bound to be painful but the boy clearly had no option but be compliant.

Pulchellus glanced apprehensively from cock to cock, albeit also with a clear perverse degree of excitement pervading his pretty form, which had humiliatingly enticed his own much smaller penis back to erection. From his fearful but additionally obviously shamefully stimulated base expression, it was clear that the boy was fully aware of the enormity of the task ahead him.

Indecision, consternation and thrill, in almost equal proportions, were reflected on Pulchellus' face, which was as attractive as his character was unpleasant, as he stared at the two men's cocks, which were already beginning to rise in anticipation of ravaging his tender bottom. In response to the scene, Crastus commented "I don't think that the brat can make a sensible decision with your pricks almost limp."

"Therefore sink down to your knees, slut," Crastus added, "and use your mouth and tongue to interest the men's cocks further so that you can make your decision with more accurate information. The more you dampen both pricks, the easier it'll also be for you in the end because there'll be nothing else to lubricate them other than spit!"

Pulchellus compliantly knelt down between Grynium and Lucillus, now appreciating that disobedience would not only lead to punishment but also more distressing ultimate sodomy. By the enthusiastic way the boy then buried his lovely head consecutively in the men's crotches, Crastus' words had clearly been delivered with the desired effect.

Marius watched as Pulchellus licked and sucked the cocks and balls of the obviously very happy Grynium and Lucillus, bringing the two manly hirsute penile shafts very quickly to full erection. The cocks then maintained their hardness, even proudly quivering in apparent cruel anticipation of the pleasures to come.

Having successfully completed his literally distasteful task in respect of both Grynium and Lucillus, Pulchellus next squatted back onto his heels to look again at the two rampant cocks, which would soon to be buried to the hilt inside his body. The rigid penises in question were both blue veined and leaking copious precum just in front of his face.

Lucillus' cock had risen from its bed of coarsely curling odorous ginger hair in a curved manner, reminiscent of a scimitar. Meanwhile, Grynium's penis stood upright, ramrod straight from its base among the smelly forest of black hairs that covered his own crotch.

Grynium's patience then broke before the hesitant Pulchellus could decide which cock should first have the pleasure of sodomising him. With an impatient curse, the man suddenly grabbed the boy by one arm and, after first jerking him roughly to his feet, he half threw him, face down, across his nearby couch.

Pulchellus felt himself hanging over the side of the couch and, knowing that he had no choice, he hastily spread his legs and pushed his bottom upwards to offer himself to Grynium's enthusiastic cock. The man then took two quick steps across the room to where the boy's bottom had been so considerately and invitingly raised and dropped to his knees between the 12 year-old's two outstretched lower limbs.

Lucillus began to protest the usurpation of his rights but then quickly shrugged and grinned. His generous attitude was summarised by his subsequent comment of "It's only a slave brat's bum, so I can wait!"

Grynium spat on his fingers and worked his saliva generously between the lips of Pulchellus' anus. Despite his fear of imminent pain, the tingling feelings generated by the man's action meant that the boy could not help but moan in excitement.

Marius noticed the muscles in the backs of Pulchellus' lithe legs straining as the 12 year-old forced his bottom higher in shameful instinctive response to Grynium's probing fingers. The younger boy's own hard cock quivered at the sight.

Grynium next dug his thumbs into the flesh of Pulchellus' bruised and sore bottom, pulling the boy's buttock's apart to expose fully the pink sphincter. The man's action caused the 12 year-old now to change his tune and wince and gasp in pain.

Of course, Grynium, mind and penis oblivious to all considerations other than immediately satisfying their carnal desires, ignored Pulchellus' whimpering and instead pressed the tip of his engorged cock against the entry to the boy's anus. Marius then saw the man's powerful haunches thrust overpoweringly and mercilessly forward.

Pulchellus instantly threw his head back and screamed, whilst his fingers tore desperately at the cloth covering of the couch across which he lay. However, Grynium continued to show the boy no mercy.

Again and again Grynium drove relentlessly forward before withdrawing to repeat his action. The man even lifted the diminutive boy bodily from the couch under the force of his remorseless assault, as he pitilessly repeatedly hammered the full length of his swollen cock into the 12 year-old's pretty form.

Pulchellus' face became contorted with pain, whilst saliva dribbled from his mouth to mix with the tears and mucus that flowed from his eyes and nose onto the couch below his head. However, the boy's screams eventually became more muted as the initially excruciating act of sodomy continued unyieldingly, simultaneous to an apparent abatement of the ferocity of the man's attack.

Grynium's movements became less violent, as he instead began to thrust his cock in and out of Pulchellus more regularly. To aid his rhythm, the man also placed his two hands on the boy's hips to steady the pair of them.

Pulchellus' shrieks gradually decreased in volume until they finally fell away to an occasional low whimper, punctuated by the harsh panting of both man and boy as they copulated energetically. The 12 year-old's body also began to respond submissively and apparently co-operatively to the movements of the large cock invading him.

Marius could eventually see the muscles in Pulchellus' bottom working with patent willingness, as the boy clearly attempted to draw Grynium's cock ever deeper into himself. In response, the tempo of the man's thrusting began to increase again, whilst his young victim's earlier screaming was now replaced by the return of his original contented moaning.

Grynium eventually shouted incoherently and drove forward with more vigour than ever. The man's rigidly ecstatic body then jerked convulsively, as he ejaculated deep inside the now deliriously moaning Pulchellus.

Grynium allowed himself to appreciate his orgasm fully before heaving his softening cock, now soiled with a mixture of cum, blood and worse, out of Pulchellus. Marius subsequently again caught a glimpse of the older boy's bottom, which displayed a similar foul mixture oozing from the 12 year-old's ravaged and undoubtedly hurting anus, before Lucillus stepped eagerly forward to take his colleague's place.

Grynium picked up a napkin from the table and dipped the cloth into a water jug before using it to wipe the filth from his now flaccid cock. In contrast, Marius' own bare but still virginal bottom became aware that Crastus' own manly penis was again beginning to stiffen underneath him, having undoubtedly been stimulated by the recent show.

Shamefully perversely excited by the feel of Crastus' hardening cock again pressing against his bare bottom and the spectacle of Pulchellus' subjection to multiple sodomy, Marius could not next prevent himself from wriggling his smooth boy's rump tighter into the man's lap. The adult penis beneath him happily hardened further in response.

Crastus also laughed and, reaching out, dipped two fingers into the bowl of figs and honey. Dripping with sticky sweetness, he then pressed them against Marius' rosy lips.

Marius took the gooey fingers eagerly between his lips. The boy then licked and sucked the honey from them, as Crastus worked them inside his mouth before repeating his action several times. Meanwhile, Lucillus and then Varro sodomised Pulchellus with eager speed, having previously been highly stimulated by the sight of their colleagues doing so.

Crastus' turn to experience the pleasure of sodomising Pulchellus then finally came. He therefore lifted Marius gently from his knees in order to walk over to where the older boy, face awash with his own tears, saliva and mucus, lay half on the couch, with his bottom, shedding blood and extraneous semen, still compliantly raised ready for his enjoyment.

As a consequence of Marius' wrigglings, Crastus was again fully rampant. Consequently, he wasted no time in satisfying his obvious desire.

Pulchellus' anus, already torn and well stretched, offered little resistance and soon Crastus' cock was fully buried in the once more whimpering boy, whose renewed audible distress resulted from the fact that the latest invader was the biggest of the four that he was required to accommodate. The man's hips then regularly slapped against the whining child's bare rump, as he enthusiastically thrust in and out.

Nevertheless, Marius noticed that Pulchellus' body, despite suffering renewed pain, was still capable of reacting with a degree of instinctive interest to Crastus' relentlessly probing cock. The boy's form was still responding submissively and co-operatively to the movements of the large penis invading him.

Crastus' rape of Pulchellus proved to be brutal but brief and the man was soon back on his feet. He then placed one hand on the small of the boy's back, pinning him to the couch on which he half lay.

"Did you enjoy the honey I gave you, Marius?" Crastus next asked with an evil grin. "Yes," the boy replied uncertainly before remembering to add "Master". The ominous tone of the man's voice and his wicked smile had warned the 11 year-old that something unpleasant was going to happen but he was not sure what.

"Good," Crastus commented, whilst the three other men laughed in recognition and anticipation of the fun to come, "I'll therefore give you a chance to have some more. Bring the bowl of figs and honey here." Marius naturally obeyed, albeit apprehensively.

Crastus once again dipped two fingers into the honey and then thrust them into Pulchellus' torn anus. The older boy whimpered a protest, which the man, of course, ignored.

Cratus instead spent a few moments probing Pulchellus' ravaged, soiled and sore anus with his honeyed fingers before withdrawing them. "There you are," the man then commanded, whilst holding his filth-coated digits out to Marius, whose little cock was still shamefully rigid, "suck them clean!"

"There's honey on them," Crastus added, "as well as other delicious juices for your delectation!" However, Marius was not now convinced about the desirability of sucking the proffered fingers and so backed away. Unfortunately, the naked boy was not allowed to retreat far before Varro grabbed him from behind and pushed him back forward.

Crastus now extended his fingers with their noisome filth towards Marius' gorgeous young face. "Suck them clean, brat," he again commanded, whilst taking the boy's chin in his other hand in order to hold the pretty head still whilst introducing his obnoxious digits to the child's rosy lips.

Marius' nostrils then caught the stench of the foul mixture and he gagged. Crastus instantly used the opportunity to thrust his fingers inside the boy's opened mouth.

The bitter almost metallic taste of blood and cum, mixed with the sweetness of honey and the sour mustiness of a little faeces, immediately overwhelmed Marius, who was naturally reluctant to suck the unwanted intruders. However, such unwillingness was quickly overcome.

"Suck, brat," Crastus roared, "or your bum'll be beaten even worse than the other slut's!" To the terrified young recipient of this threat, the man's ugly face, which was still evilly grinning rather than exhibiting signs of anger, seemed to fill the whole room whilst he issued this warning.

Despite Crastus' maintained wicked smile, Marius also appreciated that the man's threat of a beating was real. The boy therefore reluctantly he began to suck the adult's unwholesome fingers.

Unfortunately, Crastus was not easily satisfied. After allowing Marius to suck his fingers for a few moments, he withdrew and inspected them before returning them to the boy's mouth, whilst instructing him to lick the remaining detritus from between his digits.

"Your treat's not yet over," Crastus subsequently announced, having finally satisfied himself that his fingers had been cleansed to perfection and whilst maintaining his evil grin, "as there's now honey for you in your little friend's hole. So, fall down on your knees, brat, and lick it out of the boy. We don't want the slut dribbling it over the floor after I finally allow him to stand!"

Marius again hesitated to obey but the impatient Crastus caught hold of him by the back of his head and pushed his face down towards Pulchellus' damaged rear. The younger boy resisted but the man was too strong for his rather feeble efforts.

Marius' cute nose was soon pressed against Pulchellus' still uplifted bumcrack. 'They won't make me do it,' the boy then defiantly thought to himself, in respect of the very distasteful chore that he had been ordered to perform, but he subsequently felt a finger pressing into his own raised bottom.

Delicious perverse excitement suddenly flooded again through Marius' body and he somehow could not now help himself. The boy voluntarily pushed his rump upwards, positively inviting further intrusion.

Marius' tongue also now began with shameful willingness to probe Pulchellus' tortured anus.

Chapter XI

The first grey light of dawn was filtering into the room. Marius could hear snoring and somewhere a man muttering in his sleep.

Memory then came flooding back to Marius. He could somehow still hear in his mind Pulchellus' screams as he was serially raped, and could also sense on his tongue the foul taste of the filth he had subsequently demeaningly licked from the other boy's anus.

"Marius, wake up," Pulchellus whispered urgently, "because Pannychis is in the courtyard. She wants you. She's in trouble. She needs your help!"

Guilt immediately flooded Marius' young mind. Pannychis was the slave girl who had smuggled him food when he had been locked in the cellar and left to starve. No one else had been prepared to help him.

Amidst his misery, fear and, Marius had shamefully to confess, occasional excitement of yesterday, he had not thought of poor brave Pannychis once. The boy also now did not stop to wonder why Pulchellus should take the risk of carrying a message for her, or indeed how the girl could actually send her plea.

Now infused by urgency that matched the apparent message, Marius was on his feet in a single lithe movement. Leaving Pulchellus behind, the still naked boy then cautiously picked his way across the room to the door, with the early morning air cool against his nude body.

Lucillus, who was meant to be on guard, was stretched out asleep across the closed entrance, wrapped in his cloak. There was just room for Marius to step over his slumbering form and ease the door open sufficiently to create the size of crack required for him to wriggle his slim boy's body through without disturbing the man.

Suddenly and shockingly, Pulchellus then screamed shrilly from the room behind him. "Master, Master," the older boy shouted, "Marius is trying to run away!"

Marius, stunned by the noise and Pulchellus' sudden betrayal, temporarily stood frozen in his tracks. However, on quickly realising that the older boy's perfidy had landed him in serious trouble, he subsequently turned to flee but his attempt was too late.

Marius exited the door, which then burst open. Pulchellus, still screaming loudly, next hurled himself upon the more diminutive younger boy, bowling him over onto the floor.

Pulchellus was the bigger but Marius was lithe and quick, his bare skin slippery. A little longer would surely have seen the younger boy escaping the clutches of the older but then Lucillus, followed by Crastus and the other men, reached the grappling pair.

Marius felt his arms being grasped by Lucillus and he was immediately hauled roughly to his feet and held tightly. "What's this," Crastus then asked furiously, "what's going on here?"

"Master, Master," gasped Pulchellus from where he was crouched panting on the ground, "I just woke up and I saw Marius creeping out of the door. I was sure he was trying to run away, so I called you and then I ran after him to try and stop him!"

"He didn't!" yelled Marius angrily. "He's lying!" the boy added desperately and unthinkingly, "because he told me that Pannychis needed me and was waiting for me...."

Marius then fell silent. The boy had suddenly seen the sheer improbability of his story. How could Pulchellus have received a message from Pannychis? Why, if he had, should he bother to pass it on and having done so why should he raise the alarm about his running away? The younger boy now realised that he had been tricked and he shot a look of impotent hatred at his betrayer.

"He's the one who's lying, Master," Pulchellus shouted back, whilst pushing his black curls clear of his pretty face and looking up at Crastus with wide innocent brown eyes. "Why should I…."

Crastus then impatiently interrupted Pulchellus. "Yes, of course, I can see that the brat must be lying," the man commented, ominously for Marius.

Continuing to address Pulchellus, Crastus declared "You have done well, boy, and now we must teach Marius a lesson that he'll not forget but without damaging his looks. I still want to sell him for as good a price as possible once we're back in Rome!"

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