Place: The small city of Tusculum, 15 miles southeast of Rome.
As the sun's rays crept across the slave-boy's face, he awoke groggily and pulled the rag-quilt blanket up over his head. In a few seconds the fog had cleared from Yosef's brain, and the 13-year-old mumbled a curse at himself for oversleeping, hoping that Master would also be sleeping late. His head throbbed a bit, unaccustomed to the amount of wine that celebrating customers had cheerfully coaxed him to drink the previous night. Yosef knew he should jump up from his slender pallet-bed and get ready for his morning duties in his master's bedroom, but instead he lingered, fully aware that he risked a whipping for his laziness. He might even have drifted back to sleep, but he REALLY needed to pee.
Yosef reached down and touched his penis -- totally stiff, as it was most mornings lately. He couldn't resist toying with the slender near-adolescent boner, enjoying the pleasure sensations. He was well-familiar with the changes that boys go through at his age, and had been observing with pride how his penis and balls had been growing. And because Master required the boy to be naked while he worked in the tavern, Yosef was accustomed to hearing the customers' lewd comments about his developing genitals as he served their wine and beer. The unusual appearance of his penis -- its lack of a foreskin -- always drew curious attention and frequently attracted fondling hands.
For any customer who desired more than a quick feel, a sign on the wall advertised the price list for the slave-boy's services. A dupondius coin paid to the tavern-keeper (roughly $15 in today's value) purchased a quick hand-job from the naked boy in the small back-room where he now lay. A sestertius coin (twice the value of a dupondius) bought a blow-job and a few more minutes before Master knocked on the door and called for the session to finish up. Two sestertii (a day's pay for a common soldier) allowed the customer a half-hour to fuck the boy and indulge in any other sexual service the man desired.
Often, of late, the customers Yosef took to the back-room were interested in stroking the boy's cock, sometimes resulting in an exciting mutual masturbation session that brought a dry orgasm surging through the lad's body.
Thoughts of a man's hand on his cock caused Yosef to stroke his boner more purposefully. He longed for the day that he'd be able to spurt the sticky white fluid whenever he experienced that rush of pleasure-feelings. This thought caused the boy to stop masturbating and run his hand through his thick wavy hair, breaking up the clumps stuck together by crusts of semen from the previous night's orgy. Then his fingertips rubbed briefly at the patches of dried spunk on his face, chest, thighs, and buttocks. He'd wash it off when he fetched the first bucket of water from the neighborhood fountain.
Then his fingers probed gently at his anus. It still felt a bit tender, but not too bad. His memory was fuzzy about how many times he had been fucked the previous night. Whatever the number, it was far fewer than the number of celebrants he had serviced with his mouth throughout the evening. He silently thanked the gods that the springtime festival called Floralia (an annual celebration of drinking and prostitution) was the only holiday that Master honored each year with an orgy in his tavern.
The offer of cheap wine and free sex had brought in at least 100 horny men during the course of the evening, and Master had rented several brothel slaves to satisfy them. The two woman-slaves seemed inexhaustible in their capacity to be fucked by one man after another. And the flamboyant teenage transvestite, his face garishly made up and his body hair entirely shaved or plucked, had an asshole that seemed as capable of taking a constant cock-pounding as the women's well-used cunts. Compared to them, Yosef played a secondary role in pleasuring the customers, but it had still been an exhausting ordeal. As the evening had worn on, and the crowd of celebrating men stood in line for their second and third fucks, Yosef used his mouth to stiffen the cock of each as they came to the head of the line.
The real entertainment of the evening, however, had been the 10-year-old identical twins -- German barbarians by birth -- who were brought by their owner after the orgy was well underway. The pre-pubescent boys were dressed in fanciful renderings of the clothing that barbarian chieftains wore when they were brought to Rome to be awed by its grandeur... outfits of leather, furs, and metal adornment. The young slave-boys had staged a set-piece show, wrestling atop the tables, pulling each other's long blond hair, tearing the clothing off each other's bodies, and then engaging in surprisingly-erotic sex in a variety of clever positions. With everyone in the tavern looking on, the beautiful and exotic young boys then set about pleasuring a select group of men chosen by the proprietor from among his favorite customers and most important guests. After little more than an hour, the two were whisked away again by their owner, well before the tavern- keeper declared closing time.
Yosef shook the erotic images from his mind. Much as he wished to lie there, fantasizing about the previous night while playing with his boner, he needed to relieve himself and get to work. The boy walked quickly to the doorway, which opened to a narrow street. He didn't bother to put on his tunic, even though Master's wife had told him he was getting too old to display himself naked outside the tavern.
There were only a few people in the street this early... a man driving some noisy sheep, getting an early start on the day-long journey to the Imperial City... an old slave-woman a few doors down emptying a bucket of waste in the gutter... a gruff soldier walking by, at the end of his night-shift of patrolling the city. The boy felt no embarrassment to stand in the doorway and let loose his bladder, closing his eyes and sighing with relief. His erection caused the yellow stream to arc high in the air before splashing noisily in the fetid water puddled on the stone roadway. As the flow of urine tailed off to a few final squirts from the still-erect penis, the slave-boy was startled from his pleasurable bodily function.
"A greeting to you, Yosef!" called out a giggling girlish voice, in a thick Greek accent.
The boy looked over to see Eleni coming down the street, carrying water from the fountain. He was suddenly overcome with uncharacteristic modesty and covered his genitals with his hands. For reasons he couldn't explain, the display of his near-pubescent erection had instantly became a matter of intense embarrassment in the presence of the pretty slave-girl. Eleni was new in the neighborhood, having been purchased only a few months before by the seller of olive oil whose small shop and upstairs home were directly across the street from the tavern. She was a house-slave, and no doubt the merchant's concubine as well. Yosef had been shy around the girl ever since he first met her, but for some reason she actually seemed to like him. Indeed, Eleni was one of the few people who called him by his actual name. His master, and nearly everyone else, just called him Puer ('Boy'). The name 'Yosef' was the only possession he retained from his little-remembered early childhood, in a distant land at the eastern end of the Great Sea.
"You startled me," mumbled the boy, feeling his face blush. Then he started to chuckle along with the girl, though he kept his hands cupped in front of his crotch.
"You are having the very handsome penis, Yosef," she said in a half-whisper as she stood in front of the closed door of her master's home. This made the boy blush even more fiercely.
Glancing quickly to both sides to make sure nobody was near, she set down her water bucket and quickly lifted the hem of her tunica, revealing her shapely legs and slender hips... her pubic mound, with its slit half-shrouded by downy hairs... her flat belly... and finally her small, pert breasts with exquisite little brown nipples. She released the garment, letting it fall back to her ankles, and then it was she whose face blushed.
Yosef was breathless. He had seen his share of naked slave women (not the least during the previous night's orgy!), but the brief seconds of seeing Eleni's lithe young body seemed like the most erotic experience of his short life. His erection strained almost painfully, and on impulse he took his hands away from it, pushing his hips forward, displaying himself to the girl. The handsome young phallus stood straight up, nearly 5 inches in length, pulsing with each beat of his pounding heart. She smiled, and the knowing look in her dark eyes made Yosef feel that he was melting into the cobblestones beneath his bare feet.
"Maybe we will be seeing each other again soon, Yosef!" she said, in a flirting voice as she opened the door and carried the water-bucket inside.
Yosef walked back into the small room behind the tavern, his mind enflamed with young lust. He lay back down on his pallet and began to stroke his stiff cock, anxious to achieve a dry orgasm as fantasies of the olive-skinned slave-girl played out behind his closed eyelids. He'd not yet fucked a girl or woman (or boy or man), but was engrossed in thoughts of sliding his cock inside Eleni's warm, slippery sex. No sooner had he gotten into a good masturbation rhythm, stroking his cock-head with two fingers and his thumb, when...
"Puer! Where are you? Come tend to me!"
"Oh, merda!" moaned the boy. Master was awake! There was certainly no time to fetch a bucket of water for Master's morning sponge-bath. Yosef ran through the empty tavern room and up the staircase. He passed the closed door behind which Master's wife snored, and he continued down the hallway to Master's combination of bedroom and office.
The man was sitting on the edge of his bed, and Yosef knelt at his feet, out of breath, his head bowed in submission.
"I'm sorry, Master! Please forgive me," said Yosef, resigned to inevitable punishment.
The 50-year-old was silent for a few long moments. A linen nightshirt covered his aging but reasonably-fit body. What little hair remained on his balding head was grey.
When he finally spoke, the man's tone was soft, but he was clearly angered. "How many years have I owned you, Puer?"
Yosef had to think for a few seconds. "Five years, Master." When he was quite young, Yosef's family had been split apart and sold into slavery at the end of the great rebellion in the Judean Province. He'd spent several years on a slave-trader's farm, toiling as a house-slave, being Romanized and trained for service. When he was 8, he was deemed old enough to fetch a good price at auction.
"And during all of those years, your duty has always been the same -- to be kneeling at my bedside when I awake, available for immediate sexual service; isn't that so?"
His head bowed even lower. "Yes, Master," he murmured.
"Damn you, Puer! The omens were just right for me to fuck you this morning. I was dreaming last night of having those two Germanic boys in my bed and fucking them both, with the potency of a 20-year-old. When I awoke, my cock was as stiff and ready to enter your ass as it's been in months. But you weren't at my bedside where you belonged, and now my cock is as soft as porridge." The old man lifted the nightshirt and wiggled his totally-flaccid penis to emphasize his point. "I am very disappointed in you. What shall I do, Puer, to convince you to attend to your morning duties in the future?"
"Shall I fetch the strap, Master?" asked the boy, knowing full-well what was coming.
"That's right," said the man. "At least you have the sense to know when you need to be whipped."
Yosef jumped to his feet and took the punishment strap from the nail on the wall. It was a compact and efficient tool, a 6-inch length of thick cow leather smoothly-tanned on one side, attached to a 4-inch wooden handle that fit the man's hand comfortably. It was perfect for an over-the-knee spanking.
"Shall I suck your penis erect, Master?" asked the boy.
"Naturally. And take off my nightshirt," said the man.
Yosef knew that giving a spanking roused Master's libido. The boy had always been grateful that his master never punished him gratuitously, but only when he deserved it. But it was typical for punishment to lead directly to sex.
Yosef pulled the man's nightshirt off, revealing soft flesh where once there had been abundant muscle. The hair on his chest and pubes had mostly gone grey.
The boy sank back to his knees between the spread legs of his seated master. Cock-sucking had been a daily part of the morning ritual for as long as Yosef had been owned by the man. Only rarely these days could the old man maintain an erection stiff enough to fuck his slave-boy (much less his unattractive old wife!), but Yosef nearly always could satisfy his master with his mouth and hands.
In a familiar ritual, performed countless times on the man, Yosef took the soft cock in his mouth, gently suckling it with his lips and tongue. One hand fondled the man's low- hanging balls, while the other made a ring of thumb and forefinger at the base of the penis and squeezed firmly. Slowly, the penis was encouraged to stiffness. The young slave-boy was expert at knowing exactly how to stimulate his master to erection. As his mouth began to move up and down along the hardening 6-inch shaft, the boy's hand shifted from his master's cock to his own, jacking it to a boner with a few quick strokes.
"That's enough," said the man. "Get in position. Quickly. I intend to get my phallus as hard as it was in my dream."
The boy lay diagonally across the man's lap, his arms and chest resting on the bed. He maneuvered his body so that the two erections came in contact, and he gently moved his hips so that the stiff penises slid together erotically.
The strap came down swift and hard, slapping the boy's slender rounded butt loudly. Yosef flinched, but he didn't make a sound. Master usually demanded silence... only occasionally instructing the boy to beg for mercy. As the blows rained down steadily, quickly reddening his buttocks, Yosef gritted his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly to minimize the tears. Even in his pain, however, he tended to his duty as a slave... making sure both cocks rubbed together, making sure that Master stayed hard.
The spanking ended as quickly as it had started. There had been about 25 blows, though Yosef had not kept count.
"The omens still feel right for having a good fuck," said the man. "We'll do it in the usual manner."
Yosef slid off the man's lap and quickly fetched a small ceramic bottle from the table. He uncorked it, poured some oil onto his hand, and sat down on the bed with his legs spread. When Master knelt between the boy's legs, Yosef slathered the lubricant on the man's slowly-softening penis, stroking firmly. He lay back and raised his legs, still holding Master's cock. The man leaned forward and rested his hands on the backs of Yosef's legs.
The boy's hand guided the cock to the entrance of his ass, making a tunnel of slippery fingers curled in a loose fist, as Master's hips began to thrust. The mostly-erect cock fucked Yosef's hand as the boy squeezed with just the right pressure. As the old man's hips began to churn, the oiled cock-head bumped against Yosef's anal ring, entering it and then slipping out with each stroke. The boy expertly guided it in farther in, using fewer fingers as the man's erection plunged deeper, and finally removing his hand completely as the temporarily-potent boner plunged to the hilt.
The entry wasn't comfortable for the boy, but of course his comfort was irrelevant. As his ass quickly accommodated the thrusting of his master's cock, Yosef relaxed into the warm familiarity of the act... something he had done almost daily with the man as a younger boy, when Master was more potent.
The man got into a steady rhythm of fuck strokes as his erection stayed firm, and his moans of lust filled the room. Yosef felt a warm glow of satisfaction, doing his job well and pleasing his master. And the more joyful his master was with the energetic fuck, the more Yosef found the eroticism contagious. He started feeling his own sexual pleasure, his penis erecting, the whole-body feeling of arousal starting to build within him.
"Talk to me, Puer!" grunted the man. "You know what I like to hear."
"Oh, Master!" gasped Yosef; "your cock is so powerful! It fills me completely! It's so good to be fucked by you!" The boy was talented at faking passion, but this time his words came close to honest expression. "You are so virile, Master! Your mighty cock is like a thick iron rod; thrusting so hard; so deep inside me!"
Yosef brought his right hand, still slippery with oil, to his own penis and began to masturbate.
Oh, yes! It was so incredible to stimulate his sensitive cock-head... to form a ring with his thumb and forefinger, brushing it rapidly up and down... combining with the warm fullness of his rectum as his master's 6-inch cock plowed deeply. Even as he muttered the exaggerated pleasures of being fucked by Master, his thoughts bounced from one erotic thought to another. He fantasized fucking the slave-girl Eleni... being masturbated by a handsome tavern customer... cavorting with the twin Germanic boy-sluts in a threesome of sexual adventure. That pushed Yosef quickly toward climax.
As Master thrust with all his strength into Yosef's ass, and the slave-boy jacked himself with urgent masturbation strokes, the only words that his brain could produce were "Fuck me! FUCK me! Oh gods, YES! FUCK ME!!"
The boy's immature orgasm suddenly convulsed his body. His anal muscle spasmed around Master's cock, and Yosef wrapped his arms around the man, pulling him closer.
The tavern-keeper was seconds away from his own climax, a wave of lust poised to flood him with ecstacy. He brought his face down to Yosef's and thrust his tongue into the boy's mouth. Yosef's tongue met it with equal passion, just as the man orgasmed, shooting his cum into the slave-boy's rectum.
The man collapsed onto the boy, the two locked in embrace, their tongues still swirling together. Rolling onto their sides, the master's hand wandered over Yosef's body. As he gasped for breath, the man caressed the smooth flesh of the slave-boy's butt, still hot and red from the spanking.
"You have pleased me, Puer," he murmured at last. "You are a good slave."
"I am grateful, Master. You were magnificent!"
The man kissed the boy's lips again, this time tenderly, as they lay together in the afterglow of sexual release for a few blissful minutes.
"Enough of this sloth," said the man at last, as he slung his legs over the bed and stood up. "I have some good news. Have you heard of Lucius Flavius Lurco, whose villa is just outside of town?"
"I think so, Master."
"He's a wealthy and powerful aristocrat. And the butler who runs his villa was a customer at the tavern last night... one of the men you serviced with your mouth. He came to me at the end of the celebration and arranged to hire you as one of the serving boys for Flavius Lurco's social gathering this afternoon. You will pour wine and pleasure any guest who fancies you. These will be some of the most important aristocrats of the town and surrounding countryside, and I would make good money if any of them wish to hire you for similar work. And because you have pleased me this morning, I have decided that if the butler reports favorably on your work, I'll give you a quadrans coin." (It was a tiny fraction of the fee that Master would be paid for the hiring-out.)
"Thank you, Master!" gushed the boy. Yosef had never before possessed money; even this lowliest of Roman coins.
"And another quadrans from any other hiring-out that results from your service to the noble men at the lunch."
The boy was speechless. He took his master's hand and kissed it.
"Be ready at the noon hour. The butler will send a slave in a cart to bring you to Flavius Lurco's villa. Wash your body especially well. You'll be working naked, of course."
"Yes, Master."
"Now wash me well too, and then pick out my best tunic. I have decided to go down to the morning slave auction to see if they have any young boys like those German barbarians."
Yosef froze momentarily when his brain processed this information, and a look of anxiety crossed his face.
"Don't worry, Puer. I have no intention to sell you anytime soon. You know that you still please me very well. But you will eventually be growing hair on your body, and will no longer be suitable for my needs. And since last night, I am taken with the idea of having a hot-blooded and exotic little one to arouse my loins."
Yosef thought back to the older lad who had been the tavern's slave-boy when Yosef had arrived. They had worked together for a time, until Yosef was well-acquainted with his duties, and then the youth was sold to a blacksmith across town. Now a handsome young man of 19 years, muscles bulging from his blacksmithing work, the boy he'd replaced worked in hellishly-hot conditions during the warm months. Yosef didn't wish to think right now about the uncertainty of working for a new master.
"And remember, Puer," continued the man. "If I buy a new boy, I'll expect you to train him in the ways of pleasure. You'd like that, eh?"
Yosef thought about teaching an eager little-boy slave to give a proper blow-job and to take a cock up his ass. He realized he'd be the dominant sexual partner for the first time in his life, getting a suck or fucking the youngster whenever he liked. Yes; that would be very interesting! He smiled broadly as he set about his duties.
What an interesting day this had been so far, Yosef thought to himself. And much more was yet to come!
End of Part 1.
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