Athenian Boys - 460 BC by Bill (bil47_new@yahoo.com)
"We have several honored guests this day," proclaimed the elderly philosopher who served as the director of the Athenian Academy. "A delegation of Spartan men and youths is passing through Attica for several days, and they have requested that the youths -- these four fine lads -- be permitted to sit in on our lessons here at the Academy. This is, of course, a wonderful opportunity to bring our two great cities closer together and foster even greater understanding."
From the looks on the faces of the four youths standing at the old man's side, you would think they did not view the occasion with such pleasure. To Jason they resembled nothing so much as a pack of wolves observing an isolated farm from the edge of the woods -- noble of bearing, strong and lean, fiercely confident, yet instinctively wary. Jason half-expected to hear them growl at the two dozen Athenian boys who had gathered in the courtyard.
"I will assign each Spartan youth to one of you, that you may be his guide for the day," said the old man as he matched up boys more or less at random. Jason was pleased when he was chosen as a guide... and even more pleased to be assigned the most handsome and youngest-looking of the four adolescent boys.
"I am Jason, son of Cleon, of the island of Delos," he said, extending his hand.
"Demaratos; Spartan," said the boy brusquely. He added, in a slightly more civil tone: "Call me Dem." The lad took Jason's hand and squeezed it -- very hard. Jason was surprised by the boy's strength, and by the rough skin of his hand -- like the hand of a field worker. He almost flinched from the pain, but managed to keep a straight face. The Spartan boy was in the first bloom of puberty... his voice had not yet changed. And Jason found him wonderfully erotic. As was his habit, Jason immediately thought about the end of the school day when nearly all of the Academy boys participated in unabashed sexual activity. Might he be sharing pleasures with the Spartan youth this afternoon?
Dem proved to be whip-smart. He breezed through difficult problems in the mathematics class. And when the scroll was being passed around to read a section from the Iliad, Dem recited the passage of Homer's words from memory, while some of the Athenian boys relied on the written text in their declamations. But he was as terse in his conversations as the stereotype for all his countrymen, often responding to Jason's questions with single- word answers.
It was with great persistence that Jason received confirmation of the often-heard stories about a Spartan boy's upbringing. How at birth he was examined by a committee of elders who would order weak newborns to be placed on a hillside to die. That as a toddler he was trained never to cry or complain or fear being alone. And that at age 7 every boy left home to live in barracks, assigned to a "herd" of similar-age boys who were -- literally -- whipped into shape by a barely-pubescent boy assigned to be their prefect. The prefect, in turn, was under the harsh authority of an older teenager. The boys slept in a heap, like puppies, on a bed of marsh rushes that they picked with their bare hands. They were underfed and encouraged to steal food from peasant farms. If caught, they would be severely whipped -- not for stealing, but for being clumsy enough to be detected. Their games were of the most violent sort -- often just crude tests of pain endurance. And boys were regularly sent out alone to the mountains for days at a time to fend for themselves. The brutality and deprivation of a Spartan's boyhood was designed for the single-minded goal of training him to be the ultimate soldier. Spartans remained in the barracks until age 30, after which they took a wife and sired a new generation of boys.
Jason was filled with a strange erotic fascination. He was now quite sure that he wanted to lie naked and share pleasures with this boy who was so inscrutable and fascinating... and ruggedly handsome. When Jason was describing the Academy's schedule to Dem, he was eager to observe the Spartan's reaction to hearing of the sexual activities that occurred after wrestling practice. Jason told Dem of the gentle seduction of younger boys by the older lads at the bathing pool, and about how companions went off to the privacy of the olive grove to exchange romantic words as they made love.
The description of the Athenian boys' courtly sexual rituals brought an uncharacteristic flow of words from the Spartan. "In our land," he said with pride tinged with scorn, "the strong boys take their pleasure by force from the weak. They would never ask; only demand... and fight if necessary to satisfy their sexual urges. The weak submit... but they pledge themselves to be stronger the next time. Your soft games of seduction, Athenian, would be the laughing-stock of my herd. The lust of Spartan boys is never an expression of love; it is just another way to prepare ourselves for war." Jason could have taken the statement as a rebuke, but instead he felt a shiver of excitement, and his cock stiffened at the thought of a sexual encounter with this rough and mysterious outlander.
At the beginning of wrestling practice, all of the students stripped nude in the Greek custom. Jason glanced at Dem's genitals and was well-pleased by their beauty. He had a well- proportioned cock 4 inches in repose and slightly thicker than Jason's thumb, with an attractive short foreskin that barely allowed the little piss-slit to peek out, and nicely dangling balls. Jason was also fascinated by Dem's pubic hair -- a dozen dark sprigs at the very base of his cock, suggesting that they had first sprouted only recently. But when Dem turned around to walk into the arena, Jason was shocked to see numerous scars across his back and buttocks. Jason had seen such marks on the backs of slaves back home on Delos -- evidence of firm discipline by an owner or overseer. He recalled the time, some years prior, when he had watched the overseer on the family's estate whip a returned runaway, with such intensity that the flesh on the man's back was criss-crossed with bleeding wounds.
Like any boy, Jason had himself experienced a leather strap on his naked butt when he was disobedient to his father, but never so harshly as to leave scars.
It was unthinkable that Dem had ever been a slave. Could his father's harsh discipline have caused such marks on his back?
Dem was paired with Jason for the practice, even though Jason outweighed the Spartan. In fact, Dem looked at first glance to be downright scrawny -- as underfed as a peasant boy from the shanties outside the city walls of Athens. But despite his slender build it became instantly clear that Dem was quite strong, with wiry muscles and stealthy speed. Jason was also rather strong and quick, and his added weight made the two boys an even match.
Whenever the activity in the practice flagged a bit -- for the instructor to talk or the whole group to watch a pair of boys demonstrate a move -- Jason's hormone-driven thoughts turned to sex. The feel of Dem's taut body and the sight of his attractive cock and dangling balls fed Jason's desire to pursue a sexual get-together with the Spartan. Jason wondered how he should broach the question.
The last part of wrestling practice consisted of several minutes of full-strength scrimmage by the pairs of boys. Starting from the standing position, Jason and Dem circled each other warily, looking for an opening. Jason used the trickery and psychology that he had learned from his wrestling master to make Dem fall into a trap, as Jason dipped under his grasp and slipping behind the Spartan. With his arms wrapped around Dem's torso, Jason knocked the boy's feet out from under him, sending both of them thudding to the ground, Jason on top. But as Jason worked for a means to turn his opponent onto his back, Dem had tricks of his own and was quick to turn the tables, using a sit-out move that left Jason face-down in the dirt with the Spartan atop. Jason moved just as quickly, however, scrambling to his knees and using the momentum his opponent's pressure to roll both of their bodies and regain the top position.
Both boys were working at full exertion, using finely-honed skill as well as strength, as the advantage traded back and forth. Three fast-moving minutes into the match, Jason found himself pressed to the ground by nothing more than a sharp elbow, driven into the center of his back by the leveraged weight of Dem's body. At the same time, Dem was using both his hands to pry Jason's left arm up and force it behind his back. With his arm thus captured, Jason was defeated -- not to mention helpless and in pain -- and he stopped struggling. All around them, other pairs continued to wrestle. Dem was now astraddle Jason's haunches, his crotch pressing against the crack of Jason's ass. He leaned down, his mouth close to Jason's ear.
"Do you submit to me, Athenian?" he hissed, nudging the youth's arm further up between his shoulder blades.
"Agh! Yes! I submit! You're breaking my arm off!" gasped Jason in a hoarse pleading whisper.
But Dem did not release Jason's arm immediately. He spoke again, still in quiet but threatening tones. "In Sparta, when a youth is defeated in a match, he understands that he must then satisfy the lust of the victor. You don't know our ways, so I must demand that you swear you will submit to being fucked." Dem inclined the arm even higher up Jason's back
"I swear it!! I swear by the goddess Athena that I will do anything you require!" Dem let go of the Jason's wrist, and the Athenian breathed a sigh of relief. Though he was embarrassed at his defeat by the Spartan, Jason couldn't help thinking to himself that things were actually working out rather nicely. And as both boys rose to their feet, Jason was additionally pleased to see Dem's cock standing nobly erect. Six inches of slender adolescent phallus, with the purple glans protruding from the cover of foreskin. The Spartan was justifiably proud of his manhood and made no effort to hide it... no different from any of the other boys here. The wrestling master had called an end to the scrimmage, and some of the boys where already jacking themselves hard for the ritual of sexual pairing that began as the group made its way down to the bathing pool to wash away their sweat and the dust of the arena.
As the crowd of boys walked along the broad pathway, all still naked and holding their linen tunics, Dem said "Show me this olive grove of which you spoke. My cock desires its reward."
"Don't you wish to go to the bathing pools first?"
"Bathing pool?! A Spartan washes his body with a vigorous swim in cold water; we do not lounge in a pool like effeminate Persians. I swam in the sea at dawn this morning, so my sweat and dust are of recent vintage.... Does the scent of a wrestler offend you, Athenian?"
Jason blushed. In fact, as they had wrestled Jason had been powerfully aroused by the adolescent musk of Dem's body. He did not answer the question. "The grove is this way," he said. "We will be the first ones there and have our pick of the best locations."
Jason led Dem up to the crest of the hill. Part-way up, he placed a small branch across the path -- a signal to later-arriving boys that the most secluded and desirable spot was already taken. Standing face-to-face in a clearing at the top, the teenagers both sported rigid erections that arched toward their bellies. Jason felt short of breath, his heart thumping in his chest as he awaited Dem's orders... ready to experience the heady taboo thrill of being sexually subservient to a younger boy.
"Suck me, Athenian. Wet my cock with your spit before I penetrate your ass."
Jason dropped to his knees in front of Dem. His hand reached up to the boy's cock and pulled the foreskin down to fully reveal the slender cockhead. Then he hungrily took the hot flesh between his lips, slathering it with his tongue, tasting the rich earthy essence of the 14-year-old's unwashed penis.
"That's good," murmured the Spartan. "Now let's see if you can take it... DEEP!" and he grabbed Jason's head with both hands and thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock into the helpless youth's throat.
Jason gagged at the intrusion, but successfully fought off the urge to retch. With all his willpower, Jason passively allowed Dem to fuck his throat with quick, brutal thrusts. When the Spartan pulled away after a few minutes, he was breathing hard and red-faced with arousal.
"Now get up and offer me your ass, Athenian. Grab that low branch. You best hold tight as I intend to fuck you hard and fast."
Jason leaned over, spreading his feet, bending his legs, and looking down at the ground... waiting for Dem's cock to enter his body. Inwardly, he reveled in the excitement of sexual submission to the tough young Spartan, though of course he could not express such a humiliating perversion.
Dem's warning had been no idle jest. He positioned himself behind Jason's proffered ass and pushed in hard, with no concern for the pain it would cause. Though Jason tried to open his anal muscle to the thrusting phallus, the assault felt like red-hot iron searing his asshole. And there was no pause when Dem's hard thrust rammed his erection all the way to the hilt. He grabbed Jason's hip bones and fucked with rapid piston strokes, in and out of the teenager's inflamed rectum.
Jason clenched his teeth and grasped tightly to the tree branch. He was determined to take whatever Dem could give, and take it without a whimper. But as the brutal fucking progressed, something surprising happened... the burning pain diminished, replaced by the familiar warm fullness and intense erotic stimulation that Jason felt whenever a fellow student at the Academy made love to him. He was being fucked with savagery, but he was loving it! With each thrust of the Spartan's adolescent cock, Jason's senses were moving to a higher level of arousal. He looked between his legs at his own cock, and it was hard... bobbing up and down in time with his swaying ball sack as Dem pounded into his ass.
Jason could hear Dem's breath growing ragged. No words came from the Spartan boy's lips, and no cries of lust. But Jason could now hear almost noiseless grunts each time Dem's cock was rammed home. The fuck-strokes came even harder and faster. And then, with a gasp, Dem orgasmed intensely, pulsing his hot cum into Jason's rectum. Jason gloried in the feeling produced by the spasming cock inside his body, and he clenched his ass-muscle tightly around it. After a few more residual thrusts, accompanying the last cum-spurts, Dem pulled away and Jason stood up straight.
"You took it well... Jason," said Dem, using Jason's name for the first time that day, and giving his back a good-natured slap. "So stoicly did you accept your obligation that one might mistake you for a Spartan." This was among the highest compliments he could have bestowed, and as he sat in the grass beneath a tree, he pulled Jason down by the arm to sit next to him.
"In my herd, when a defeated opponent takes a fuck with stoicism, the victor shows admiration by drawing forth the boy's seed with hand strokes. Would you object if I honored you thus?"
"Uh... no! Of course not! I would gladly accept the honor, Dem." As he said the words, Jason was thinking that he would be honored even more if the Spartan were his bed partner that night. But he kept that thought to himself as Dem knelt beside him, taking Jason's penis in one hand and his balls in the other. With the same serious determination that seemed to accompany every task he pursued, Dem commenced a skillful masturbation, exhibiting a deft touch and a willingness to make the session last longer than the typical quick jack-off.
As Dem pleasured him, Jason longed to hug and caress the boy with affection... to lay with him in the grass and kiss, just as he did with his school friends. But he knew that such a suggestion would offend the Spartan, so he refrained. Instead, he closed his eyes and let his body ride the wave of pleasure that flowed beneath Dem's stroking hand. As Jason's breath quickened and his muscles tensed and his toes curled, he broke the silence.
"Oh, Gods, YES! Here it cums!"
And ropes of semen burst forth, at quickly-pulsing intervals, leaving pearly puddles scattered over Jason's chest and belly, as well as on Dem's stroking hand. As Dem sat back down and wiped the cum off his hand onto the grass, Jason used his tunic to clean his torso. "That was good, Dem. Thanks."
"Do not thank me. I was merely upholding tradition."
But Jason thought he could tell, from the look in Dem's eyes, that a connection of friendhip had been made.
"I have a personal question for you Dem, if I may be intrusive," said Jason after they had sat quietly in the afternoon sun for several minutes."
"Ask. I have no secrets."
"The scars on your back... are they from your father's discipline?"
To Jason's surprise, Dem began laughing -- another first that day from the serious-minded Spartan.
"Forgive me, Jason. I do not mean to be rude. But I thought you knew about the training of Spartan boys. The scars are the badge I wear of my ability to bear pain... of my suitability to be a warrior. Last year, at the festival of the goddess Artemis, I was allowed to participate in the whipping ceremony for the first time. I lasted more than 20 minutes before I passed out, and even won praise from the elder of our two kings. My comrades and I often whip each other in friendly competition. The ability to accept the harshest whipping is a key element of our culture. And we are not raised by our fathers. We are raised by all Spartan men, and can expect to be disciplined by any man or older boy if he finds our conduct deficient.
"When a boy joins a herd at age 7, his first welcome is a whipping by his prefect. Not too severely, of course, just an introduction. He is made aware from that first day that he is no longer a child under his mother's protection... he is a soldier- in-training. Any lapse in discipline results in a whipping. Any deficiencies in learning... a whipping. Our food ration is one bowl of gruel a day; anything else must be stolen, but if you are caught stealing, the whipping is especially harsh.
"If a boy takes his whipping well, he is respected by the herd and by his prefect. If he takes it poorly, with crying and groveling, he is disgraced and invites humiliation. In my herd, a boy who could not take a whipping well was immediately fucked in the ass by the prefect, and was then required to suck off each of the other boys in the herd, under the threat of further whipping. There were nine other boys in my herd, and I'm proud to say that I never had to suck them all off. That's not to say the prefect never fucked me that first year, however. In spite of the fact that I accepted my whippings in silence, the prefect sometimes ordered me to sleep with him, and he used me to satisfy his lust during the night. Until one night, I answered his demand with a kick in his balls and a fist to his nose that drew forth blood. Not bad for a 7-year-old against a 13-year-old, huh?.... Of course, he proceeded to beat me unconscious with his fists. But when I was revived he congratulated me for my warrior spirit, and he never again fucked me or made me take his cock in my mouth.
"I don't imagine an Athenian would ever understand our Spartan ways, Jason. We welcome pain the way Athenians welcome their luxuries. I'll wager that no boy at this Academy could take even 25 good lashes on his back, something a Spartan 10-year-old could accept with barely a blink."
Jason spoke immediately, in defense of his peers and in the excitement of the challenge. "I'll take that wager, Dem. Give me 25 of your best, and I'll show you what an Athenian boy can take. Back at the Academy building, there's a 5-tailed cat that schoolmasters may use on unruly students. Let's go." And Jason jumped to his feet and extended a hand to help Dem up.
Dem had a bemused smile on his face as he and Jason grasped each other's forearm and he hopped up. "And what shall be the prize, Jason? How about if you can take the 25 strokes in silence, you may have your way with me however you choose. If you cry out, I'll have you suck off my cock at the center of the wrestling arena, to be watched by anyone passing by."
"It's a bet!" said Jason, pumped with energy.
The two made their way down the hill, passing a pair of boys casually loitering beside the trail who immediately headed up the path to claim the favored spot for private sexual coupling.
When they got to the brick building where classes were held earlier in the day, Jason got the whip from its hook on the wall. It had five 2-foot-long tails of finely braided leather, each strand knotted at the end, attached to a leather-covered handle.
"Yes, this will do," said Dem. "Hands against the wall."
Jason was still naked, as was Dem. He leaned forward and rested his palms against the cool wall at head-height and braced himself for what was coming. The whistling air advertised the first stroke a split-second before it hit.
SWISH... SLAP!
The pain did not really register at first, but Jason knew from experience that it quickly would.
SWISH... SLAP!
Jason's felt all five strands rake across his back.
SWISH... SLAP!
Intense pain was now radiating from his back.
SWISH... SLAP!
Jason clenched his teeth and concentrated on breathing evenly.
SWISH... SLAP!
'I must send my thoughts elsewhere. Think of something other than the pain' he told himself.
SWISH... SLAP!
Jason focused his thoughts on the memories of Dov and Danni, the twin 12-year-old boyslaves at his mentor's villa, and the pleasures he had experienced with them in the nights since his mentor had been away.
SWISH... SLAP!
He struggled to keep his mind focused on sexual thoughts, instead of the severe lashing that was stinging his back like a nest-full of angry hornets. He concentrated on the events of his first night with the two pleasure slaves, when they had stimulated him for over an hour before finally bringing forth his orgasm.
Again and again the whip sang through the air and landed on Jason's bare back, a new blow striking every 10 seconds or so. But still he willed his brain to concentrate on thoughts of the most intense pleasure.
Dem had counted silently to himself, and when he delivered the last stroke, he walked over to the wall and hung up the whip. Jason was still in his self-induced trance, and he barely heard Dem's words. "Well done, Athenian!" Jason slowly turned around and tried to clear his mind. That's when the full extent of the pain hit him, and he suddenly felt faint. Dem saw that he was about to collapse and caught him under the arms and held him up, as Jason instinctively wrapped his arms around Dem's neck.
"Strength, Jason. You took it like a true Spartan. Don't pass out on me now and spoil it."
As Jason cleared his head, his back was throbbing with pain, but it seemed to be waning rather than increasing. He was leaning against Dem's body, and it felt good. When he felt Dem's hand slip down and take hold of his penis, Jason realized he had a stiff erection.
"I see, Athenian, that you use the same strategy to block out the pain that I use. Either that, or you are thinking ahead to the payment of our wager."
Jason grinned despite the pain. "Perhaps both of your guesses are correct, my Spartan friend. But no matter what my arousal suggests, I guarantee that I do not love the kiss of the lash as you and your countrymen seem to."
"To each his own, Jason. Now, how would you have me pay my wager?"
Jason thought for a moment and decided to ask for what he really desired. "I would have you ask the permission of the men with whom you travel that you spend the night at my villa." Jason explained the circumstances of how he had become the temporary master of one of the great houses of Athens. Dem listened and then nodded his head.
"The purpose of our trip is to learn about your Athenian ways. I will ask my leaders, and I believe they will consent."
And so they did, after consulting with the director of the Academy to verify Jason's claim to being master of the house in which Dem would spend the night.
As Dem was consulting with his leaders, Jason had gone to the Academy's infirmary, where the attendant applied to his back a healing salve imported from Egypt, having remarkable currative powers. The pain disappeared almost completely, replaced by a slight throbbing warmth. The salve could do nothing, however, for the many angry welts that lay in stripes across Jason's back.
When Jason met back up with Dem, the Spartan said "My leaders have allowed me to spend the night in your villa and have instructed me to conduct myself as if I were an Athenian... difficult as that may be." Dem didn't mention the additional words of the eldest Spartan in his group: "All the better that you may know the ways of these Athenians, for I am certain that one day our city and theirs will be at war."
Jason beamed with joy at the news, and his mind raced with ideas for nighttime fun. He decided to begin with a quick session of pleasure before they left the Academy.
"Well then, Dem; since you are now an Athenian youth, may we share kisses for a while?"
"I would never..." he began with haughty bluster, but witched to a gentler tone "uh... I mean, Spartans do not kiss. It is unmanly." Jason could see an uncharacteristic blush sweep over the boy's cheeks as Dem added, almost in a whisper "But I have heard about kissing, and ... perhaps I have wondered on occasion what it is like."
Jason thought he detected, hidden deep beneath the tough Spartan shell, a gentle boy in need of the tender love that Athenians so easily shared with each other. He moved close to Dem, wrapping his arms around the boy in a gentle embrace. The Spartan stood awkwardly with his arms at his sides.
"Put your arms around my neck," whispered Jason in Dem's ear. Their bodies pressed close together. Jason's lips brushed against Dem's, then pressed lightly against Dem's mouth. But Dem did not kiss back, and the Spartan looked bewildered.
"Could you... will you teach me to do these things, Jason?" asked Dem, almost shyly.... "Please?"
"Just follow my lead, and then do what comes naturally."
And this time, when Jason pressed his lips to Dem's, the Spartan pressed back. Jason flicked his tongue lightly across Dem's mouth and was rewarded with the feeling of the younger boy's tongue responding in kind. And Jason heard what sounded like a sigh of pleasure as their tongues gradually merged in hot, wet desire.
Dem was a fast and eager learner as the two boys clung together in passionate embrace. Jason noted with pleasure how the Spartan was taking the initiative with his tongue, probing hungrily into Jason's mouth. Dem's hands moved from Jason's neck to his ass, pulling their crotches even closer as their erections slid sensuously together. No words were exchanged, but the sounds of eager passion echoed off the walls of the empty room in with they stood.
Dem's hand slid between their bodies, and he grasped Jason's rigid penis, sliding the foreskin up and down over the cockhead. Jason's hand immediately followed suit, and the two boys were jacking each other with rising lust as their tongues continued to duel. In a chorus of ecstatic moans, both of them shot their bursts of seed onto each other's belly. The semen mingled as they pressed their bodies close and continued to kiss.
As the mutually-felt adolescent lust slowly waned, Jason held his new friend close and whispered in his ear. "Tonight I will show you the pleasures of being served by a skilled boyslave. Or in our case, two twin boyslaves with extraordinary talent and creativity."
The End (Your comments and suggestions are welcome, as always.)
NOTE: The upbringing of Spartan boys described in this story is historically accurate. And it must have worked, because Sparta's citizen-soldiers were the finest army in the world at that time; arguably the toughest and most selfless warrior class the world has ever known. Long after the decline of Spartan power, with the rise of the Roman Empire, the temple of Artemis and its ritual flogging of boys became a tourist attraction a parody of its former noble purpose. Romans came to watch with erotically-tinged fascination as naked Spartan boys were whipped - uncomplaining and unmoving - until they passed out.