A sex slave in Ancient Rome.

Old Rome

MARCUS SPEAKS:

The soft knock came at the bedroom door after I had retired to bed in my business associate Metellus' palatial guest suite. Opening the heavy, carved door, I found the small, dainty slave I had seen serving at the evening meal; I had admired his slim grace and pretty features when he poured my wine. Now the young slave smiled nervously; taking his slender arm I drew him into the room.

Metellus was an excellent host, and I had quickly grasped that this arrival was another gesture of his hospitality. I turned forty last year, and still enjoy my youthful energy and strength. I'm attracted to both bold females and feminine males; this young man scored high in the looks and demeanor department. I sat on the bed and gestured to him to undress.

He immediately complied, slipping off the loose shirt that was his only garment, then standing quietly for my inspection. His was a petite figure, with a flat, appealing stomach, smooth light skin, shapely limbs and a face that I now saw was beautiful: high cheekbones, soft wavy hair that fell to his shoulders, large expressive gray eyes. His small cock and tight ball sac were perfectly shaped, shaved, and (I was interested to see) in a state of semi-arousal. When I motioned for him to turn to present his back view, I observed that his round buttocks bore a number of pink stripes.

He had evidently been recently punished, the inevitable fate of almost every slave. I was a little surprised that his owner had risked marring the young man's undoubted beauty. But Metellus was a strict master, and I daresay had his reasons. Meanwhile my visitor's slender nudity was most arousing. I threw open my robe, lay back on the pillows and indicated that he should position himself between my legs, to begin pleasuring me with his mouth.

I'm very partial to being fellated, and I was already hard. He gracefully slipped into the required position, and giving me a long submissive look with his large liquid eyes, bent his head to my stiff cock. Grasping it in his small hand, he began to fondle it slowly while he licked the tip. I jerked in pleasure, whereupon he ran his tongue the entire length of it.

This was extremely enjoyable, and I smiled to see his small face with its beautiful mouth stretched around my shaft. I like to think I'm sensitive to others' feelings - even those of slaves -- and I was interested in the darkly sorrowful look in his eyes. He appeared completely attuned to my enjoyment, and responded immediately to my groans of pleasure.

He took me almost all the way into his soft wet mouth, and began slowly and rhythmically sucking me, descending to the base of my cock, then sliding his lips back to the tip. Then with an effort he took me in all the way and held me there, watching me gravely as I squirmed in delightful pleasure. Somehow, even though my shaft was firmly planted in his throat, he managed to deliver highly arousing flicks of his tongue.

I like to make things last, and it was clear that I could not resist this level of oral skill for much longer. Extracting myself from his exquisite mouth, I indicated that he should turn on his stomach. I wanted to sample his bottom, which I was certain would prove to be both tight and sensitive. I love anal sex, with either gender.

He seemed somehow reluctant to comply, but turned over nonetheless, so that I was able to admire his slender back and exquisitely rounded buttocks, which were almost perfectly shaped despite the savage stripes that crisscrossed them. His skin was like velvet, without other blemish. He flinched and cried out when I grasped his twin globes and drew them apart to reveal the shy pink bud of his ear entrance. Clearly his whipping was still painful.

Enticed by the tender, perfect opening, I spat on my fingers and stroked it. He squirmed and said something in his own language, but submissively grasped my cock and guided it to his entrance. I began to push forward, but he was extremely tight there. When I pushed vigorously inside, penetrating only an inch or two, he gave a soft scream. His rectum felt marvelously smooth, but my probing was evidently delivering considerable discomfort.

Since I am most pleased when my partner is participating willingly and enthusiastically, I desisted from my attempts to impale him there, albeit with some regret. I turned over and allowed him to take me in his mouth again, which he did with apparent eagerness. Now as I lay back watching his bobbing head, I began to experience the most delightful sensations of my life.

He seemed to have an extraordinary appreciation of what I liked, and took me to the very edge of orgasm several times before switching his focus and allowing my lust to subside, then skillfully brought me back up again. His attentions to my frenulum were especially arousing, as he caressed me there with his small pointed tongue.

For a time he removed his mouth from my aching shaft and burrowed his head between my thighs to lick and suck my anus; something I had seldom experienced before, and found extremely enjoyable. Then he took each of my heavy balls in his mouth and sucked them carefully, before returning to my cock and caressing it as before.

He was making small muffled sounds as he worked, just as I was groaning with pleasure. Suddenly I could no longer resist completion; a tidal wave of ecstasy began sweeping from the base of my genitals, hurried along by his small lapping caresses. Coming was an incredibly intense sensation; I seemed to fountain in his mouth interminably, floating in a cloud of pleasure, aware only of his enthusiastic swallowing of my essence.

Sated for now, I reached down for his perspiring body and - though I don't usually do this with temporary slave partners -- drew him up next to me. Hesitantly he squirmed his small smooth body next to mine and nestled his head in the crook of my shoulder. Despite our intense labors, he smelled clean and fresh and his breath was sweet. I held his slim waist and we rested from our efforts.

Holding him affectionately, I asked him why he had been whipped so severely; an unusual occurrence for such an attractive slave. He confided quietly that he had been sent to another guest's bedroom a few nights earlier. He was new in the household, purchased from a slave dealer after he had been kidnapped from a village far up the coast.

Though he had tried hard to please the guest, knowing as every slave did the consequences of disobedience, he had been too nervous and fearful to relax, and his cries and flinching had put a dampener on the guest's attempts to penetrate his virgin anal passage. The guest - a close associate of Metellus' -- had complained to his host, and the next morning the slave (Lucius was the Roman form of his name) was stripped, tied, and thoroughly whipped.

He was extremely afraid that I might also report his resistance to his owner, resulting in another savage beating. But, he said, if I would give him a chance, he would try his hardest to open himself to me "back there". He knew that he could please me thoroughly, and quietly but intensely begged me not to make a complaint. The first whipping had been agonizing; no matter how much he screamed and pleaded, it would not stop. Now that his flesh was so tender, another chastisement would be twice as bad.

Turning himself, he sensually pressed his marvelously soft, yet firm bottom in invitation against me. I could see the trace of a tear on his silken cheek. I asked him how he had learned his skill; he told me only recently, that another slave - a buxom young woman with a mischievous eye, whom I'd seen serving at dinner -- had taken pity on him and educated him thoroughly, though his prior experience was minimal.

I was still temporarily exhausted from our coupling, so did not respond immediately. Instead I reflected for a time. This young slave had delivered more pleasure to me than anyone before, on our first interaction yet. He was beautiful and, I guessed, sweet natured. I'm well off, successful in my business, and could well afford to purchase him. His current owner Metellus, after all, owed me a favor or two. I resolved to speak to my host in the morning. Meanwhile, reviving somewhat, I gently pressed his head back down to my awakening cock.

This time was slower but equally passionate. Sensing my tiredness, he sucked me very slowly and delicately. Again his intuition about the most sensitive parts of my anatomy came into play as he caressed me with his tongue and lips. Switching positions, he licked and sucked my anal entrance at length; his delicate flutterings there were extremely arousing, and if anything confirmed my intent to purchase him.

My household is small by wealthy Roman standards and, I like to think, happy. The other slaves would be kind to him, and I had presently no mistress of either sex to be jealous of him and make things difficult. I wanted to be the first in his tender bottom, and felt that with the proper treatment he would be able to welcome me there. That concluded, I focused my attention on what he was doing to me with his sensitive mouth. In a short time I erupted again; he swallowed, and I slid into a deep sleep.

LUCIUS' STORY

The whipping was dreadful. Metellus' Master of Discipline was a grizzled, powerful ex-legionary who went by the book. If he was ordered to chastise a slave, that was precisely what he did. My failure to please Metellus' guest had brought me trouble. He had wished to penetrate me anally and was put off by my struggles over the pain he was inflicting on my untouched back passage. The legionary collected me from the slave quarters and took me roughly down to the punishment room.

Here I was told to strip, which I did. I've always been obedient and submissive by nature. I have to say that as I stood before him naked, the cool air caressing my naked bottom, I felt a certain thrill at the sight of the ropes, whips and other instruments of punishment that were arrayed the stone walls. It was humiliating but somehow exciting. Despite myself, my cock stiffened.

Each of my wrists was bound and stretched out; a rope was also placed around my neck. I was unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. My helplessness was also in a way arousing. The legionary - his name was Aulus -- stroked my back and bottom with his sandpaper-like fingers. Thinking that perhaps he would allow me to pleasure him with my mouth instead of whipping me, I arched my back and pressed my buttocks against him. I knew I presented a pretty sight, that might tempt him to treat me more gently.

However, he simply laughed shortly, as if to say that wouldn't profit me much. He stepped behind me, holding a short, lissome whip. I tried to watch him over my shoulder, but was too confined by the ropes. A hiss; a sharp crack; and a stinging pain erupted across my tender cheeks.

Each individual stroke was not in itself unbearable, but Aulus was skilled at his work. He striped my bottom carefully, then commenced to draw diagonal cuts across the horizontal welts. Soon I was squealing and begging for him to stop, if only for a moment, to no avail.

Moving on from my burning behind, he applied the whip carefully to my lower back and the tops of my thighs, where the lash curled painfully onto my soft inner skin. He returned to strike my buttocks again, causing me to scream and contort myself wildly, before delivering a couple of especially stinging strokes to my tender, exposed underarms. Soon my delicate skin was ablaze. I was certain I must be awash with blood, but later found I was only striped pinkly.

Finally he desisted. I ceased my howling and slumped in my bonds. He released me and I sank trembling to my knees. This suited his purpose well; I looked up to see his thick, stumpy erect penis presented to my mouth. Repressing my sobs, I immediately parted my lips and started sucking him as skillfully as I knew how. I greatly feared he might change his mind and recommence beating me.

However, he had completed his assigned task, and now was claiming his reward. He grunted and pushed deep. Naked and degraded, there was still an obscure pleasure in being bound, dominated, and used thus. In a very few minutes my intense sucking and licking had him erupt in my mouth. I swallowed obediently; he pulled me up and gave me a push in the direction of the slave quarters.

I trotted back there, tears still trickling down my face, attempting to soothe my abraded flesh with my soft palms. What worried me most was the likelihood of being sent to another guest's room, and failing again in my duty. Doubtless that would result in another, probably more cruel beating. As anticipated, the summons came a day or so later. I went fearfully to the bedroom of a different guest, but fortunately for me it was my new Master.

Part two to follow shortly.