Nova Baiae Rhodri's Story Chapter Thirteen "Led away into Slavery"
This is a story of erotic fiction and contains male on male sexual references. It is meant to be read by adults over the age of eighteen years. If you are under the legal age of your respective jurisdiction, please leave now.
Written by Jean-Christophe: Posted March, 2020 Visit my blog, "Slaves through the Ages" at slvtoby2011.blogspot.com
The characters and ideas contained in this story are products of the writer's imagination and bear no resemblance to actual persons or events. Please respect them as my intellectual property.
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Chapter 13
Cleon and I don't have a chance to farewell Telemachus and I can only guess at the state of his mind as he begins his new life as a slave on Nova Baiae.
Watching as Telemachus is lead away by his new master, Soterus, I am overwhelmed by a sense of despondency. Obviously, Cleon is similarly affected as he doesn't speak. We both watch as Telemachus passes through the gates of the slave-pens and disappears out into the busy street.
Of course, from my stay at the inn, I know the young slave's fate. Within, a very short time he'll be beaten by his new owner as a warning of what to expect should he fall short of the inn-keeper's expectations and then put to work alongside Aeolus, Ovid and Virgil. I wonder who of Soterus' patrons will pay for the privilege of being the first to use his ass as Soterus auctions it to the highest bidder. Whatever, before many days pass, I am sure Telemachus' ass will be well used. I feel for the young man so cruelly wrenched from the security and comfort of home and family and now condemned to abject slavery for the remainder of his days.
His fate has a salutary effect on me. For, inevitably, I know this is also the fate that awaits both Cleon and me. At the mere whim of any freeman, we too will be bought like livestock and lead away to a life of bitter servitude.
Our silence weighs heavily on us until, eventually, Cleon speaks.
"Poor young bugger!" He sympathises. "I wonder what is to become of him?"
My answer is simple.
"I don't know, Cleon!"
I could share with Cleon my knowledge of the inn and its patrons and the indignities heaped on the slaves who work there. Further, I could tell him of Casca and his dog-slaves Rufus and Brutus and that Casca is now looking to add a third animal to his kennels and from what he'd told me we both fit his criteria of being blond, muscular and hairy. But I decide not to. What purpose would it serve other than to add to Cleon's already dejected state of mind. Far better for me to keep silent and allow events to unfold. Our fates are in the hands of the men who lust after owning us. We no longer control our destinies.
Nevertheless, I spend the remainder of the day on tenterhooks waiting for Casca to appear.
Towards midday, the crowd drifts away to the nearby taverns and inns to discuss the quality of Volpiscus' latest livestock over their leisurely lunches. Meanwhile, we enjoy the welcome reprieve of not having our bodies obscenely groped, pummeled and generally abused. The day is hot and thankfully we are given a small draught of water to drink - but not enough to overtax our bladders - and nothing to eat. Our parched throats have been made raw from the constant intrusion of inquisitive fingers and probing cocks and we are thankful for our measly ration of water. And the overseers use this time to once more oil our cocks and grease our ass-holes ready for the afternoon onslaught of over-eager buyers.
In the early afternoon, the buyers begin to drift back to continue their inspections of the miserable livestock locked in Volpiscus' pens. They are joined by other newer arrivals, but there aren't as many as this morning. Nevertheless, they are very enthusiastic and our ordeal of this morning begins all over.
As I am being probed and prodded, I watch anxiously for Casca and I am relieved that, as yet, he hasn't arrived. But I am puzzled by his absence; at the inn he was very definite about visiting the slave-pens in his quest for a new, blond, dog-slave. Of course, I'm not to know that Casca, accompanied by his dog, Brutus, had set out this morning with the intention of visiting the slave-pens but had stopped at a tavern along the way for just one tankard of wine which then lead to another and another until he feel asleep. His faithful hound, Brutus, aware of what was expected of him, lay at his feet and waited patiently for his master to awaken from his drunken slumber. Casca slept and snored slumped across a wine sodden table until late afternoon by which time it was too late to visit Volpiscus' pens. It was left to the ever-faithful and well-trained Brutus to safely guide his master home.
Gradually, the number of visitors diminishes until by sunset the pens are deserted apart from the shackled captives locked in them. The overseers quickly feed and watered us before retiring to their own quarters for the night. Like the slaves, they are exhausted and have endured a long day which has tried their patience and tired their whip arms.
Cleon and I, as the only occupants of our cell retreat to the back wall where we snuggled down into the straw covering the cold stone floor. As we wait for darkness, we listen to the sounds of our brother slaves as they too settle down for the night. We hear the curses of those who rail against the abuses and humiliation they'd suffered throughout the day, the soft weeping of those who have given up all hope and the loud snoring of those who have drifted off into a fitful sleep. Cleon and I remain silent for we are too lost in our own thoughts and fears to talk. Sleep is the furthest thing from our minds.
We soon grow used to the regular inspections by our jailers to check there is no illicit sex taking place between us and they rigidly enforce the "hands off" rule that ensure our bodies remain inviolate for our future masters.
As darkness falls, these inspections become less frequent. From within their quarters, we hear the overseers' loud raucous laughter and bawdy conversations no doubt lubricated by the large quantities of cheap wine they are consuming.
In the blackness of the night, Cleon and I move closer together until our bodies make physical contact. It is too risky to indulge in vigorous sex but with one eye fixed on the door of the overseer's quarters, we surreptiously "play" with one another. Oh, how good it feels and I draw some comfort from the mutual stroking of our hard, iron-rod cocks and the teasing of our quivering asses.
Dejectedly, I think of Telemachus and I wonder what is happening to him.
Telemachus:
Telemachus trembles as his new master fastens his wrists behind his back and attaches a heavy chain to the collar around his neck. He stands like a leashed dog with his head bowed as Soterus takes his leave of Volpiscus and prepares to return home with his new slave.
Soterus is well pleased with his purchase. The slave is young, attractive and has an air of youthful vulnerability and innocence of the sort that appeals to his rough and ready customers.
Shortly, he will offer his new slave's delectable ass to the highest bidder among his drunken, rowdy customers. And it won't come cheaply!
Delighted with his new slave, Soterus weaves his way through the crowded, narrow streets leading to his inn on the other side of town. Telemachus staggers behind and not being used to the leash, he occasionally stumbles over an uneven cobblestone in the raised footpath.
From time to time, Soterus stops to greet an acquaintance and inevitably the conversation turns to Telemachus. His naked body elicits many favourable comments and usually results in Soterus giving his permission for the acquaintance to have a humiliating, hands-on examination of the young slave in full view of the public. From time to time, other strangers stop to watch while a tearful Telemachus is subjected to the most degrading of inspections as his torso is poked and prodded, his balls hefted and weighed and his cock stroked into a hard erection. They move closer and lewdly watch as he is made to bend and spread and display his virgin asshole for their lascivious attention. They comment crudely and, unashamedly, several reach under their tunics and masturbate.
Soterus is delighted with their attention and he knows many of these men will visit his tavern in the hope of sexually using his newest slave; for a fee naturally. The boy will prove a popular whore-slave with Soterus's jaded customers.
Telemachus weeps as his young body is crudely handled by the unwelcome attention of the lechers who crowd around him. But his tears evoke no sympathy from his heartless tormentors. After all, he is just a slave and is subject to their ridicule and scorn.
By now, it is late afternoon and Soterus needs to return to his tavern and prepare for his nightly influx of customers. And of course, he needs to instruct his newest slave in his new duties. He has decided to literally throw the "lamb to the wolves" and have Telemachus work with Aeolus in serving his customers. That way, he will learn what is expected of him from the more experienced slave. Hopefully, the customers will appreciate his youthful charms as they have the opportunity of reaching out to grope the asses and genitals of both slaves thus whetting their appetites.
He takes his leave of the crowd and impatiently tugs at the chain attached to Telemachus's collar signaling to him to follow. They walk through the narrow streets crowded with both free men and slaves. Telemachus now catches a glimpse of what life is like for a slave on Nova Baiae as he watches slaves bearing their masters' litters on their broad shoulders while others are yoked to small carts delivering produce to the numerous shops and eateries. His eyes widen in horror at the thought that men can be used like mere beasts-of-burden. In time, he will learn that the Senate has decreed that slaves must be used for all haulage within the town limits because the streets are too narrow for larger animals like mules or an ox.
Telemachus weeps tears of bitterness for his loss of freedom and his past life, family and friends. From now on, he will know the life of a slave as it was lived in ancient Roman society. He is now a non-being and regarded by the freemen of Nova Baiae as a "talking tool". He will be worked hard, whipped frequently and sexually abused by other men at the whim of his new master as was the Roman way. But this is all ahead of him and, as yet, he has no idea of what awaits him at Soterus's tavern.
Upon his arrival at the tavern, Telemachus is introduced to his fellow slaves, Aeolus, Ovid and Virgil. The first thing he notices is their complete nakedness apart from the collars they wear around their necks and genitals. Naively, Telemachus had thought he would be given some form of clothing to conceal his nakedness once they arrived at the inn, but now realises he is to spend the rest of his days totally nude.
As Soterus enters, the three slaves fearfully fall to their knees and press their noses and hands to the floor in respectful obeisance to their master's arrival. This elevates their asses and Telemachus notices the stripes of many beatings on their shoulders, backs and ass-cheeks. The bluish-black bruises are obviously from past beatings while the fiery red stripes hint at more recent punishments; possibly even earlier today. As Telemachus looks down on the three slaves cringing at Soterus's feet, he realises that, no doubt, he is to share their fate.
He doesn't have long to wait as Soterus unleashes him and orders
"Slave, get down on your knees alongside these three slaves!"
Fearfully, Telemachus does as he is ordered and joins his fellow slave on the floor as Soterus further instructs him
"Now, press your nose and the palms of yours hands to the floor and raise your ass high, boy!"
Telemachus hastens into position.
With his eyes close to the floor, Telemachus is unable to see Soterus. However, he is aware of his presence as his new master walks behind him and retrieves a perforated, leather strap hanging on a nearby wall. He hears the snapping of leather as Soterus limbers up his whipping arm and he knows instinctively that it is to be used on him. As best he can, he braces himself for what is to follow.
Then, without any warning, he feels the first agonizing bite of the strap as it cuts across his unturned buttocks. His cry of pain echoes around the room and it has barely subsided before he feels the second and third strokes.
"Slave, I intend to begin as I continue." Soterus tells the hapless Telemachus. "You are my slave and you are here to work in my tavern serving me and my customers in any way I decide. I won't tolerate any laziness or disobedience from my slaves as these other three will tell you. You will obey all my commands immediately and without any arguments or, by all the gods, you will suffer with a blistered ass for your failure to please. Do you understand what I am saying, boy?"
"Ye.. ye.. yes." Telemachus stutters through his tears.
Angrily, Soterus applies his strap to his new slave; only this time it is to Telemachus's back and shoulders causing him great pain. He hears himself screaming but it is as though he is detached from both his body and from reality. Is he having a bad dream and he will awaken in his parents' home? Another cut of the strap and Soterus's bellow of rage convinces him of the reality of his situation.
"Slave, I am your lord and master." Soterus roars. "You are my slave and I hold the power of life or death over you. From now on, you will acknowledge that by always calling me "Domine". Do you understand?"
"Yes, Domine!"
"That's better, slave. That's much better. Always remember to act respectfully in my presence or that of any free man and I shouldn't have to blister your ass with my strap too much. But now, let's get you into the proper position of obeisance. Keep your nose and hands pressed to the floor and with your ass raised high. That's it! Now spread you knees apart as far as they will go. Wider yet! Spread them further; I want to see your ass opened up to my scrutiny and your balls hanging low between your thighs."
As Telemachus spreads his knees to their widest, he is acutely aware of the parting of his ass-cheeks and that his puckering anus is obscenely on display. And he is all too aware that his balls are hanging lopsidedly between his legs. This causes him to blush from shame and he remembers how earlier, in the presence of Volpiscus, Soterus had defiled his body by teasing and fingering the most private and responsive parts of his body.
The seconds pass slowly - indeed, time seems to have stopped for Telemachus - until Soterus orders all four slaves to their feet. Aa Aeolus, Ovid and Virgil hastily stand, Telemachus takes his lead from them and does likewise.
"Assume the display position!" Soterus barks.
The command is really directed at Telemachus as Aeolus, Ovid and Virgil have already done so. They stand rigidly erect with their fingers intertwined and resting on top of their heads and their feet apart. With their chests thrust forward and their bellies sucked in, their cocks and balls hang down freely between their thighs. They have been Soterus' slaves long enough to know what is expected of them.
And as best he can, Telemachus tries to copy them.
"You have much to learn, slave," Soterus snaps, "and you'll need to learn quickly. I am an impatient master and my other slaves will teach you the correct slave etiquette you must adopt in my presence and that of other free men. The main thing you need to remember is that slaves aren't allowed to be modest or to feel embarrassment. On Nova Baiae, we keep our slaves naked and a slave's body is like an open scroll that anyone can read. Are you following me, boy?"
"Yes, Domine."
"Before I dismiss you to your duties," Soterus continues, "I have a few instructions to issue. Ovid, now that I have your replacement, I will hand you over to Senator Karelius, your new master. Tomorrow morning, you will be delivered to his domus. I will send word advising him of this. For tonight - your last with me as my slave - you will serve behind the bar."
"Yes, Domine!" Ovid's answer is subdued. The fact that he has been sold on is a frightening one. Senator Karelius has a reputation for being a hard master and Ovid knows he has been bought to serve as one of his litter-bearers.
"Virgil, you will return to the kitchen and finish preparing the food for tonight's customers. And make sure, I don't receive any complaints about the food otherwise your ass will pay the price for your carelessness."
"Yes, Domine!"
Virgil is relieved that it is Ovid who has been sold and not him. Certainly, Soterus is very hard and demands much from his slaves who live in fear of angering him. However, it's a case of far better the master you know than the one you don't.
"Aeolus, you will work with Telemachus and make the tavern ready for my guests. I want all the tables and benches scrubbed down, the tankards washed clean and the food bowls laid out ready for use. Then, he is to be shown how to serve my guests at their tables."
"Yes, Domine!" Aeolus answers respectfully.
"Then, get to your duties! And be quick about it."
"Yes, Domine!" All fours slaves chorus.
For the hapless Telemachus, his new life as a slave on Nova Baiae now begins in earnest.
And at the back of his mind is the troubling thought that Soterus intends to auction the right to fuck his virgin ass to the highest bidder from among his drunken customers and wonders when this will happen.
Telemachus has never had any homosexual experience - indeed, his upbringing by his conservative parents made the thought of man on man sex repugnant - and he is terrified at the prospect.
And yet, he thinks back to last night. The two older slaves in the pen with him - Cleon and Chrysos - had appeared to be "close" in the darkness of the night. He'd only seen their shadowy figures outlined in the gloom but they were lying close to one another with their bodies touching. He'd heard their whispered conversations but not understood the words while other sounds hinted at love-making. And his suspicions had more or less been confirmed each time an overseer came to check on them. They had quickly separated putting a respectable distance between their bodies as they pretended to be sleeping. Once the overseer returned to his quarters, they once more moved closer into an embrace.
Despite his rejection of any homosexual activity, he nevertheless envied them. They drew strength and comfort from one another whereas he was left alone weeping silently with his solitary thoughts.
And he also remembered how they comforted him when he'd been placed in the pen with them. They had shown him sympathy and had invited him to sit between them. He recalls the shiver of excitement that rippled through him whenever their naked bodies accidentally touched his own and how their proximity had calmed his fraught nerves. The pleasant odor of their all too obvious masculinity had overwhelmed his senses in a way he didn't understand.
Telemachus is conflicted by his mixed emotions. Cleon and Chrysos had acted out of kindness whereas whoever buys the right to fuck him will act out of pure lust. He shivers at the prospect and wonders if he will he find pleasure in the sex act or will he be repulsed by it?
Only time will tell!
To be continued ............