Rome is thought to be the very centre of culture. In many ways it is. The clean streets, the fresh drinking water, the wonderful buildings all attest to what could be desired of the heart of the world. But underneath lay so many perversions that I feel it necessary to give my story to history in order to demonstrate that Roman civilisation was far from the cultured society that they pretended to themselves and others was the reality.
I am known by the name of Geminus. As a small boy I was taught by Christian monks to read and write. It is the greatest gift I have been given. I want to tell you my story as it illustrates the horrible nature of the Roman people. It will not make for easy reading. Not the slightest exaggeration will be needed for the Romans were brutal beyond belief.
I was around 11 when this story begins. If that sounds vague, people had no idea of our ages where I lived as we had no means of counting it. We lived in Pictland. I did not know this at the time. It was often wet and cold but we were quite used to it. I learned early in life that our people enjoyed brutal warfare, even with clans only a few miles away. I never discovered why they behaved like this but I suspect habit had a lot to do with it. However, the land was not fertile and so the acquisition of the barren tracts nearby was very tempting as it allowed people to grow more to try and meet their constant hunger.
Our house, if you can call it that, was typical. Home made, if you will excuse the pun, it was the usual wattle and daub thing that people did around here. It had no claim to beauty on the outside, and inside, well let’s just say it was dark, dirty, very damp, and, usually, very cold. It is funny how our memories work, but easily the most powerful sense is that of smell. I have no difficulty in bringing that pungent mixture of noxious odours to my mind thirty years later. If I could imprint that stench to this page you would either pass out or remove yourself to the vomitorium as quickly as you could. Nor can I blame you. Down at heel Roman houses are bad enough, but the diligent cleaning of the upper class had, at least to some extent, trickled down to the very lowest. Public bath houses in Rome made this possible.
There had been rumours that the Romans were around. It is a very human reaction but we refused to believe it. We had to continue our lives and only denial made this possible. We were wrong; our small community were all still asleep when they came and I still remember that I was dreaming about roast pig. Not that I had ever eaten it, but that is the whole purpose of dreams, a wish that enables children to fall into slumber. Much later in Rome I was to taste all manners of roast meats; pig flesh is still my loveliest desire from my early wakening to my dropping off to sleep.
The Roman army came. They were like a force from hell. They moved in perfect formation at all times. There was no possibility of stopping them. I cannot describe their progress other than to suggest a river in full spate after days of heavy rain.
Yes, there had also been rumours about their cruelty and inhumanity. Let me tell you that any stories do not begin to tell of the bestiality with which they behave. Everybody considered to be an adult, and this could be as young as 14, was slaughtered. All the girls were dispatched as well. I learned later that slave girls were much easier to capture close to Rome itself. The screams of distress still ring in my ears. Those of us lucky enough to survive, if you can call it luck were chained together and marched to waiting ships. We did not live near the sea so it was a long march. No food or water was on offer; no resting stops. Some of us collapsed or died on this terrible trek. Those such were cut off from the slave train, ensured that they were truly dead by vicious thrusts from Roman gladii and left to rot or be consumed by whatever wildlife could profit from their decaying flesh. But those boys still alive were driven on. Every muscle ached, to an extent that each step was agony. It shames me to admit that I was not a little proud to have been one of those to survive.
We were all sodomised. There was no question of the sphincter being gently enlarged by a dildo, or even a couple of fingers. We were just fucked, and it was very painful. None of us attempted to do anything wrong but we were beaten at least twice a day, merely for the pleasure of the guards. Various implements were used on us, and I have yet to work out which was the most painful. You might think that all this was given to the buttocks or the back of the thighs. Not at all; every bit of bare flesh was liable to be beaten. I think most of us boys discovered that our chests and stomachs were much the favourite target areas. That might have been bad enough. No; salt water and acid were applied to the wounds, and harshly. These people were determined to see us suffer. It did not matter at all if we died from this treatment.
Survival was even harder in the ship. Kids were thrown into a hold. We were roughly bound to a series of racks. No food, no water, a malicious sea turning, and no latrines. I am sorry to be disgusting. The odours of my old home were as nothing now. On the boat we could talk to each other, though our languages differed. These boys became my friends; there was not a single one of them I disliked. But I had to use all my skill in lessening their fears and try to quieten them down for the night. It was very clear that they accepted me as their leader, almost a parent to them. It may sound sentimental and silly but my attempts to help them made me feel very much better myself.
We eventually got to Rome. Before exposure in the slave market we were cruelly cleansed inside and out. I could not believe the discomfort of pressurised water shoved up my anus into my stomach, the resulting revolting fluid dis-charged onto the grated floor. What was worse was liquid to make us sick forced into our stomachs. This was down our throats and I think all of us found it far more unpleasant than the attacks on our rear ends. Nor could I understand the point of this. Yes, we were going to have to suck cocks but our being sick beforehand would make no difference to men who were so drunk that any pleasure that could be afforded them was received as a treat.
That was our inner cleaning. The outside was even more brutal. Might I remind you that we were chained throughout this process. Resistance, however attempted, was futile. Any attempt by a boy to defend himself or his honour met with a rapid beating from the guards; they relished this task on naked young boys. I was beginning to learn that Rome was not going to be the holiday home of choice. We were scrubbed harshly, oiled all over and then cleansed, not with a Roman strygill but with a rough metal pad. It was very painful, particularly on the nipples and the genitals, and these, naturally, were the very parts which the men liked to scrub the hardest. All around me was the noise of grunting men thoroughly enjoying themselves and the screams of little boys. Hell, I thought, could not have been any worse. I was to discover that a Roman hell was so awful that Satan himself could learn much.
Cleaned up we were ready for the slave market. The bidders were mostly after boys for the brothels or personal house slaves. I would not have minded being a sex slave after all that had happened. I was getting used to every part of my body being treated as if I did not exist as an individual. I could learn to live with a grown man using me as a toy. Some of it was quite pleasant and the rest of it would have been tolerable.
I rapidly grew to learn the Romans had several fixations. Though they loved to see grown men being tortured in the arena, even by lions and tigers, and fighting each other to death with the crudest of weapons they delighted more in young boys being cruelly hurt.
I said before that I was around 11 years old. Cleaned up and oiled I could not but feel that I made a very beautiful boy slave. I was also aware that I was surprisingly muscular for my age. My pectoral muscles were unusually well developed and my stomach had clear muscular patterns. You will get used to my almost unbelievable modesty as this story progresses. As is usual in these slave markets all boys were subjected to a very personal and sometimes painful examination by prospective buyers. Not a single part of our bodies was exempt from squeezing, rubbing, pinching or, even, very hard punches. My buttocks were cruelly rubbed all day long whilst my stomach was given unimaginable treatment. The softer parts were nipped hard, men delighting in discovering how far they could push my tummy into me, but above all they loved rubbing the area above my penis, which, of course, was entirely hairless at this time. All of us had our genitals felt over and over again. It was often painful but nobody seemed to mind. The men seemed to be captivated by my pectorals. My poor chest was pounded and poked all day. But this was not entirely unpleasant and made my time in the market slightly more bearable. I was never bored in the market. Somebody was poking and prodding all day.
We only had the comfort of each other. One of the sweetest boys who had been captured at the same time as I was Martin, probably aged around ten. On our first night he insisted on sleeping with me. I did my best to comfort him though I have to confess his warm little body did a great deal to comfort me. At this stage in our lives neither of us thought about having sex. But the memory of the feel of his naked body haunted me throughout my life.
And then I learned I was to be a wrestler. The comfort of Martin was now needed by me. I had some ideas about what wrestling meant in Rome. There were some holds and moves that were not allowed. Give the Romans the benefit of the doubt if you are so foolish, but it was obvious that these holds and moves were barred as it would make the fight far too brief and the chances of our suffering as much as the crowds wanted much less. The longer a boy could be tortured the more it was appreciated by the mob.
I must explain what it was that the Romans called wrestling. It had nothing to do with the Greek tradition. Punches and kicks to the body were very much encouraged. There were no rounds; there was no belt below which boy wrestlers could be struck or kicked. There was no submission. The end was quite clear. The fight went on until one boy was knocked out, not necessarily through a blow or a kick but through pain alone. Injuries were commonplace. If the boy died, well, that was even better. Any violent wrestling hold or move was adored as long as it was painful. A good boy wrestler knew that the longer he could stretch out a match and the more agony he could inflict on his unfortunate opponent the more the crowds appreciated it. The most painful holds were taught to the kids and some of them relished in putting them into practice on an adversary. The matches I saw had boys screaming out in pain. It was only a question of how long a boy could stand it before he passed out. Only the most lovely or handsome of boys were put into the arena. The two boys were made to stand naked. There were two reasons for this; people wanted to place bets on which boy would survive and that could only be done after the wrestlers had been carefully scrutinised. Muscles were carefully assessed and the posture was admired or not. The biggest thing in betting was guessing how long a boy could stand the pain. But there was unquestionably a voyeurism being relished by both men and women. A beautiful naked boy was much admired, both by the highly sexed but also by people who really admired natural form at its best. When all had enjoyed a good look the fighting began. A lovely child being beaten to the extent where he either died or came near to it incited the crowd for more blood. Constant new ways of fighting had to be invented. Four naked boys in the arena could provide unending sources of pain. It was fun to see two boys crashing into each other. They could and did manage to employ massive hits and, occasionally the odd painful hold. Sometimes three boys were put to fight. This, of course, meant that one of them was the target of the two others, but nobody knew which two boys would pick on the third. What was quite certain is that one of the three was going to be tormented beyond belief. This could be done in all sorts of ways and the boys were inventive. The finishing blows to the stomach were left to the last; every joint a boy had was put under pressure. His neck received blow after blow. Those to the larynx were excruciating. He was spanked and this really hard. He was scratched until the blood flowed. His penis suffered as much as it could be made to. His chest was not just hit; the other boys rubbed it as roughly as they could. A boy’s nipples are usually quite small but still stand out proud. As I have mentioned before the mob loved to see nipples under attack. They are surprisingly sensitive. Wrestlers knew how to hurt them. The easiest way to punish them was to bite them. The boy had already been knocked into near oblivion. Therefore more subtle ways of hurting were made possible. Bare knuckles rubbing up and down on the nipples was not a pleasant way for a young boy to pass the time. Remember that finger nails could be used. It was not long before blood flowed, an added bonus to the crowd. The thighs were repeatedly beaten. Two boys putting a painful hold gave almost infinite scope for anguish to the unfortunate third. His agony led to screams of distress. And the people loved it all.
The Romans had a love for the penis. The more that could be done to a young boy’s phallus the more the mob grew excited. They particularly enjoyed boys who had been circumcised. Rules forbade an erect penis to be bent but anything else was allowed. The glans and the wee slit at the end were the most vulnerable areas. The boys knew this and it encouraged them to go for these very parts. But they were skilled in painful moves to the stomach. The crowd loved it when a boy took a punch or a kick to the belly, particularly if it knocked him out. The boys could not fake a lack of consciousness as they were quickly brought to their feet, usually by the hair. The official was very quick to make a boy suffer all the more. He even, ironically, would help a badly hurt boy to his feet, but was only because a long and agonising bout was what the crowd wanted. The boys were very athletic and very good at hurting each other. Though the tummy was the main target it was quite surprising how much pain could be inflicted on the thighs. If a lad was down and for the moment unable to defend himself a large boy coming crashing down on a thigh would get him howling in agony.
No blow or move was to be given to the head. A quick dismissal was not what the crowds wanted. Similar moves against the testicles were banned as being too speedy an end to a bout. Our pricks on the other hand were fair game, but we were not allowed to move an erect penis in order to break it. These moves were not disallowed by kindliness, but only to allow our suffering continue as the fight had to last long enough for both boys to punish each other for as long as possible.
I was taken to watch the games. These appeared to be equal matches on which the crowd laid their bets. But there were matches which were only to put a boy into extreme agonies and his death throes. One such was a bout between a boy of about 14 who had not yet reached puberty and a man of about 30. There were no bets on this bout but the crowd delighted in the fight. The man took his time to torture the kid, but torture him he certainly did. A memory still sticks in my mind. The boy was laid down on his front by the man, one arm firmly held in a painful armlock. His buttocks were enjoyed by everybody watching as they looked wondrously pliable. The youngster was then killed by the man. His back was tightly clasped and his head pulled back. The hold was on his chin. Then the man pulled harder and harder until the boy’s spine broke. Like all boys in this position he had been determined not to scream. The agony was far too much and his cries rang out. The crowd loved it and watched his death with enthusiasm.
I learned all about this cruelty from other boys. They might have been exaggerating for dramatic effect but unfortunately they were not. All too soon my training began. Only a week was allowed and the sessions were divided into mornings and afternoons. Which was the worse? We were slabs of meat to the Romans, and our future was of no consequence.
In the mornings I had the full attention of Severus, a kindly man of around 40. He kept apologising for what he had to do. I was shackled naked to a board by both wrists and ankles. Severus told me that I had to be so tethered in order to escape injury. I felt terribly exposed and vulnerable but had no inclination of what was about to happen. My little penis seemed to be very open to attack.
The sole job of Severus, a task he performed with both detachment and skill, was to show me how to be hurt and how to hurt another boy. He was at pains to explain to me that the first 60 seconds of a match was what told. If I did not really hurt my opponent in that opening time he would have already injured me and would amuse the crowds by torturing me.
He began by asking me to work down from my chin and tell him which bits were going to hurt the most. We differed but little. My throat was an open target and a hard blow here would finish me off. He pointed out that my chest would be easily hurt and I would be winded. But it would not injure me and I would be able to continue the battle. The mob loved to see a boy’s nipples under attack. This was painful but bearable.
A skilful boy could apply a wonderful body scissors as his legs were much the strongest part of his body. The move was worked on the lower ribs. The boy’s legs firmly locked, he squeezed the area as much as he could. His well-developed thighs could apply surprising pressure. It was intensively painful and his opponent moaned out aloud. Sometimes a knock-out was achieved by this move alone. The crowd loved this and other close moves; bare skin on bare skin was greatly appreciated. I should explain that the arena was roped, the floor hard and wooden but the whole was cleverly designed so that every sound could be heard by every spectator.
I was not certain at the time why, but Severus had missed out my stomach. He again stressed that my balls were sacrosanct but my wee tool was not. He told me that the Roman crowds loved to see a boy’s penis being punished but it really did not hurt that much. He demonstrated this to me and I can only say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. What a source of pleasure a penis is. His work stimulated my prick and it did not hurt. I was then to learn why he had missed out my stomach. Severus began by massaging my soft belly flesh. All of us have such soft tissue. It could give great pleasure, but equally in a fight it could be the source of great agony. On this occasion I was aroused to great excitement as it was very pleasant. I was swiftly realising that some-body else playing with my body was vastly more enjoyable than my trying to pleasure myself.
The pleasure came to an end when he launched a massive punch to my tummy. He completely knocked me out and I only came to when Severus poured cold water on my face. Then the blows to my midriff began in quick profusion. I must have passed out several times, but the beating did not stop. The agony is hard to describe as the belly is very vulnerable. Each punch seemed to cause a different sort of pain. I can remember that just one blow would have me writhing in my suffering. I was shackled, so even this slight relief was denied to me. I could not move my legs. It was altogether a most unpleasant morning. The rest were just as bad.
The afternoon sessions were completely different. We were taught how to wrestle and throw each other around. I very quickly learned that if a boy is thrown or slammed onto his back it was not just a painful move. Two or three such slams would make any boy disoriented and quite incapable of defending himself against the pain I could then inflict. I was a natural at this. I do not like hurting anybody but once aroused it was enormous fun and any inhibitions quickly vanished. But the most important lesson that Severus had taught me I put to very good use. Get in first. A soldier kept us apart until the fight started. In that brief period I worked out exactly how to take a flying kick into my opponent’s stomach. The moment we were allowed to fight I took off and landed that most important first blow. It never failed and I became the darling of the mob. I knew how to make a fight last, and how to really hurt another kid. What these horrible people liked most were attacks on the penis and hopefully some sort of orgasm. I knew the kids with whom I was fighting would not find this very uncomfortable but the crowd seemed to be happily unaware of this and stood up from their seats if I managed to subdue a young boy, stimulate his penis and then suck it off. And I was good at all these things.
My second fight was almost a disaster. A naked boy came into the enclosure. I think he was Jewish as he was circumcised. His face was quite beautiful, with lovely rosy lips. His body was even better. He was slim but well muscled. He had a wonderful tan that made his entire skin shine. What was my undoing is that he looked me directly in the eyes and then gave me a slight but obvious grin. I fell hopelessly in love. How could I possibly fight this gorgeous kid? It was my longest fight because I let him do to me all he could. And as I was not defending myself he had every opportunity to hurt me. Yes, it was painful but I really enjoyed it. That might seem hard to understand but the pain was exquisite to me. The crowd, however, was far from enjoying this. Their feelings were screamed out so I knew I had to change the nature of the engagement. I was not sure how but I remembered another of the teachings of Severus. I knocked the boy down but immediately grabbed his stomach. This was not a painful move to the boy’s flesh but I applied a stomach claw that I could be certain would make him insensible. The idea is that your hand goes deep into the flesh and pull the stomach lining together as hard as possible. It had the desired effect. The crowd loved it and so it became one of my specialities. But the same crowd wanted a boy screaming out in agony. The only way this could be achieved was by a classic and painful wrestling hold. I did not enjoy this one bit. I think I have too much imagination and realised how I would have felt in the same position. But I developed some very painful holds, some of which could break a limb. Bending any joint could bring agony. But there are ways in which two or more joints could be pressurised at the same time. I learned very early on which joints were the most painful to bend. The horrid people loved it.
But these people did not take everything for granted. They left generous tips if they had been entertained or had made money by betting on a good boy wrestler. After almost every fight I was astonished by how much money came my way. At 17 I was able to buy my way out of slavery and purchase a small house. I needed help as there was no possibility of my keeping house and cooking myself. At the slave market I was able to get a lovely young black girl to keep and cook for me. I was in a paradise that I could never have imagined as a slave. The girl was called Athena and she both competent and very good natured. She quickly became a very good cook, though there were some early disasters. Above all she appeared to be very understanding when I entertained a young boy.
Meanwhile I was unsettled in spite of the luxury I was enjoying. The sap was not just rising in my young body, but had already risen to such an extent that the lower part of my body was aching all day with an intense sexual urgency. Masturbation hardly helped. I tried a couple of young girls who were quite lovely and certainly tried to help me. Stupid as it may sound I hated these encounters into unknown areas. Their plumbing system to me was a horror. Their young breasts were equally abhorrent. The oversized nipples I could not bear to touch. Above all I could not tolerate the excess fat they had. Most men would have died for the pleasures they offered but I was unable to achieve an orgasm with either of them.
Permit me, if you will, to digress. I have made it clear that at a very early age I have slept naked with another boy who was also unclad. Not many boys or men had done this. The greatest pleasure of my life, (including dining on pig flesh!) has always been the delight of a smooth young stomach pressed against mine. If all went well we hugged each other tightly. Our legs interlocked very strongly. The joy of contact with bare boy flesh was quite exquisite. I was quite happy if the boy could kiss for half an hour or so. Every boy is unique and every boy tastes and smells differently. Many had fruity lips and very active tongues. Whilst the kid was discovering the joys of kissing, I could sometimes feel his prick becoming erect and then he often rubbed it against my body. I was always very excited if I managed to achieve this. I would be working hard on his buttocks and the back of his thighs. But it was this wonderful sensation of bare skin against equally bare flesh that was every bit as thrilling as the sex itself. A boy, it is said by Muslims, is for pleasure whilst a woman was just for breeding. I agree. Many a Roman found little pleasure in the task of trying to sire an heir. That was why the boy brothels flourished. The boys could bring so much more ecstasy.
Quite a few of the boys whose company I enjoyed had chests with very little flesh with which I could play. I should emphasise that any boy who was in the slightest way inclined to excess fat was rejected at once. The young kid’s pectorals had often not yet developed. Most of them had plenty of enjoyable flesh all over their torsos. But, however sparse a boy’s slim chest be, it gave enormous pleasure to both of us whilst I applied sensitive rubbing around the nipples. No woman, with a much greater covering of fat, could give so much pleasure. I was to learn that many a grown man experiencing contact with a young boy for the first time ejaculated prematurely; in two cases the men fainted with the unexpected rapture. This did not surprise me. I never lost the pleasure of engaging with a naked kid. Be he slave or free I always thanked him profusely and rewarded him. Many came back of their own freewill to enjoy these experiences again and again. We always fed the boys and frequently they had to be washed, a task I took upon myself for obvious reasons. Sometimes they liked to be oiled all over which I did with much pleasure.
So it was back to the slave market for me. As it happened a new intake of young German boys had just arrived. Three of them were absolutely lovely. Though still a teenager, albeit well known in Rome because of my wrestling triumphs, I took my time to examine the possible slaves. They were, of course, manacled and naked. I did not hurry, much to the annoyance of the guards. I inspected the mouth of each boy. This was quite normal. One does not want to kiss a boy with rotten teeth. I then carefully moved the flesh of the chest and stomach to make certain that there was no excess fat. Even the slimmest of boys have plenty of enjoyable flesh on their torsos. I felt rather like a butcher manipulating their flesh except that these boys were quite lovely in my eyes. Their naked flesh could not be equated with that of any beast. Eventually I got down to the nether regions. It was always my intention that the buttocks would be as narrow and small as possible; an attractive dimple at each side was an added bonus. Then we got onto the dangly bits. All three boys had fully lowered bollocks and two of them had a penis that looked promising. One was a Jew; he apologised for this but he had been circumcised and his prick was exquisite. I told him I liked both Jews and their circumcised penises and he had no need to offer any apology. I played with his delightful tool and it did not take long for it to become magnificently erect. In a low voice I asked him if he could have an orgasm. Yes, he said, but it was still dry. Having managed to establish a degree of confidence in me I told him I needed a body slave.
My mind could not put aside an enormous desire for the Jewish boy. Now that I was not fettered by unthinking clods I could speak to the kid again. I explained that I needed a body slave. One that would look after all my personal needs but would also share my bed. I told him that sodomy was forbidden in my house as was any act of cruelty to a slave. I mentioned that I insisted on the finest foods and that if he became a slave of mine I would hold myself responsible for his personal safety and welfare and that he would be a family member. As soon as legally possible I would buy his freedom and help him to establish an independent life. I went on to say that his relationship with me might be somewhat demeaning to him, though far better than any alternative. Was he interested? By now he was openly crying. It was clear he would love to accept my offer. He had obviously worked out that, however bad slavery was, my giving him a home and a premature sex life was infinitely better than the other horrible fates to which he could become condemned.
When bidding started at the market the interest in all of slaves was not terribly good. My particular boy aroused a certain amount of interest. I suspect they wanted him for a house slave or to work on a farm. I let the bidding go on for a while without saying anything. Things seemed to be coming to a finish. At that point I intervened. There were gasps when I doubled the previous bid. Naturally this had the effect I wanted and the boy became mine. He had been looking increasingly worried at the earlier bidding and the beam that appeared on his face when I bought him brought me a good deal of pleasure.
He was delivered to me that night. Again I was quite smitten with his beauty. His face was almost like that of a girl blessed with wonderful lips. I asked him when he had last eaten and was shocked to find that it had been nearly a week. I knew that rich food would only make him sick so I ordered some soup and some carefully poached fish. (I have to admit I enjoyed a second supper.) When had he last washed? He could not remember so that while the food was being prepared I insisted that we should take a bath together. This was great fun; I taught him how to wash under the arms, in his crack and his dangly bits. By now both of us had huge erections. Timerius, as he became to be known, apologised for his. I told him that there was not a boy in the world who did not have the same problem. We both dried to some extent but his erection, and, I must admit mine also, remained. There was olive oil to hand and I slowly rubbed it into his little penis. I took particular care in rubbing his wee peehole, noticing that it had become damp. By now Timerius had become very excited. He repeated to raise his buttocks and it was quite clear that my rubbing of his chest and belly was giving him great pleasure. I again attended to his squishy bottom. He obviously enjoyed this and rubbed mine with an almost savage intensity.
I put his cock in my mouth and within seconds he came to a climax. He then did the honour of doing the same to me. It brought all heaven above everything else in my mind. A lot has been said about abusing boys was all about proving superiority. To my mind this is nonsense; I treated every boy as an equal. We talked as equals and we respected each other’s bodies as equals. This is one of the reasons I became known to be a good worker with boys, even those with difficulties of one sort or another.
Food had appeared, and it was very good. Timerius took very little wine but I did. It was now getting late. I desperately wanted this boy in bed. I could not believe how pleasurable this proved to be. His naked body was like gossamer. It was warm. Every part of him was responsive to my touch. Above all for some reason he wanted me to hug him through the night. It did not help my sleeping but it felt wonderful.
A boy’s arms are very undeveloped but his legs are not. His thighs were wonderfully massive and very responsive. They tingled! I went back to his buttocks to see if I was mistaken in how good they felt. I was not and the fleshy feel was just delicious. A pelvis is covered by the biggest muscles in the body and, as always, there is a small amount of subcutaneous fat. The result on a boy is a wonderful feeling like jelly on springs. One could play with a boy’s bottom all night were it not that even more delicious areas were available.
I had heard that the slave market was going through a hard time. Foreign attacks had proved unsuccessful in producing enough slaves. A slave called at my door to ask if I would go east amongst the Muslims to try to find more slaves. They knew I could easily make friends with boys. People in those oriental areas were so poor that they were happy to sell their children into any kind of slavery. I agreed and found myself a day or so later staying in a rather grand house which had a beautiful room for which the Roman market was paying. I was no scholar but I knew that I had to prepare everything. I was going to have to be eloquent and persuasive. I had enjoyed a delicious supper and was hard at work. I had to convince people here that everything was for the best. There was an unexpected knock at the door. I had been submerged in my work and was annoyed at the distraction. I unlocked my door and opened it. Standing in front of it were two young boys. I learned later that they were both thirteen and had not yet begun to mature. One was dark, the other blond. The dark one said, “We’ve come to spend the night with you.” They walked into my room; I was so astonished I was unable to stop them. Bolting the door behind them, they stripped naked in front of me. I was still in a state of utter bewilderment. The boys were beautiful and very desirable. The dark boy was almost skinny, but his body gleamed in the lamplight. What fascinated me was that their nether regions were as tanned as the rest of their bodies. This immediately made them much more appealing. A very white bottom is much less desirable than a beautifully tanned one. The blond was muscled better, but by no means given over to fat. Their nipples were small but rampant. As were their generously proportioned pricks, both already showing signs of excitement. They gently took me over to the large bed and stripped me.
I still do not know who had trained them but these two kids were as professional as you could hope to meet. The blond gently massaged my belly and chest. The dark boy was already kissing me with quite genuine enthusiasm. His tongue was quickly thrust into my mouth, his lips between mine. My own penis was enlarged as hard as I can remember but there was no hurry to bring a climax. The fair haired one took my hand to his cock which was amazingly hard. His gland was very moist. But it was the other boy whose penis first came into my mouth. My own was still being massaged. To my astonishment he shot salty but ample spunk into the back of my throat without any effort. The boy’s hard organ continued for some time to deliver boy juices. His cock had tasted delicious and I was sad that I could no longer carry on licking it and sucking though I continued as long as I could. But the other lad had quickly replaced him and his organ had a different taste. It was every bit as good. And then the pair of them did a joint attack on my own penis. I still cannot remember quite how but my orgasm was the greatest in my life. I think they took it in turns to pummel my cock and then suck on it.
The boys were tireless. The sex went on all night. They took it in turns to sleep. I remember drifting off with my hand on one boy’s diaphragm. As it rose and fell, the silky skin under my hand was fascinating me. I did not want to sleep but nature gave me no option.
The next morning the boys woke before I did. The sex started again and it was just as good. We got up and cleansed ourselves. Breakfast came to us, baked eggs and wonderful bread. I had one egg but both boys had three. By now the time was coming near to my departure and I began to say my farewells to the lads. They insisted on a parting gift. Yes, it was sex again and very lovely.
Not long after this, in desperation the market sent a difficult boy to me to try to make him into a saleable item. He was a wreck and could not stop weeping. At first I was not sure what to do. The gods send us the answers. I put my hand up his shirt and began to gently rub his tummy. I must admit I enjoyed this as his skin was plastic and silky. But the results were extraordinary. He very quickly calmed down and the noises he made changed from deep sorrow to expressions of pleasure. At this moment I took a risk. I ordered him to strip naked. He did not seem to worry at all at this. But it gave me much more scope to pleasure his body. The boy fell on me and hugged me. He started to kiss me and his lips were delicious to my tongue. By now I was quite determined to get his penis ready for action. One of my hands continued to explore his body but the other was working on his prick. At first nothing happened, though playing with his member was by no means distasteful. Suddenly it awoke like a monster from the deep. His erect organ was wonderful. It was not unduly long but surprisingly thick. The glans was already moist. I gently moved my hand up and down his shaft. The kid was responding and his prick got harder. I did not want to miss the opportunity and put his penis in my mouth. I had timed it exactly for within seconds he forcibly ejaculated into the back of my throat. It took some time for him to finish. I did not mind as I was enjoying the pleasures delivered by his penis. It tasted delicious and I was in no hurry to end my meal.
Proud of his accomplishments he went to work on my own organ. The boy was clearly very bright because he used every practice known to man and boy to give me enormous pleasure. It not take long before all was fulfilled. I thanked him, but he thanked me the more and, would you believe it, went back to work on my body. I could not resist and within ten minutes both of us had climaxed again. Where next? He wanted to be buggered but I would have none of this. I heard he was sold the very next day to a very satisfied master.
The next day I went to the tavern for a splendid meal and not a little wine to celebrate my success. As I walked home I was accosted by a street urchin. He pleaded with me for money or anything else that could lessen his misery. He was filthy but his face was quite lovely. His body could only be described as skinny beyond belief. I asked him if he would be willing to lie down with me. I explained exactly what this entailed. He was eager to make clear that he would do anything for some material relief. My sympathies were very much on his side so I took him home. Food was no problem but getting him clean was rather more difficult. I had recently installed a shower mechanism. We both stripped and I took him to the shower room. What followed was bliss for both of us. Warm water poured on us and I went all over his body to get him clean. Twice his little organ armed itself for battle. To my surprise he was quickly relieved by a good rub in the right place.
The boy was loving this. I suspect nobody had shown him such fond intimacy since he was born. When we had finished these ablutions, and they took a lot longer than I had thought possible because it was so enjoyable,. I began to know him better. He was eager to talk, and told me all about his life. It had not been happy and it was clear he preferred wandering the streets rather than settling with anybody. His was a troubled soul.
I was astonished at his beauty. Having talked at length his confidence was strong enough so he thought he would then took over. He insisted we went to bed immediately. His thighs and arms pinned me down, though I admit I allowed him to do this. There seemed to be no end to his sexual energy. His chest was undeveloped so there were no chest muscle for me to play with. His belly was very well muscled. I had enormous fun working on it. His back was also well strengthened with firm but pliable muscle. We hugged tightly and kissed with fervour. His ability to climax time and time again was quite astonishing. There was no possibility in my keeping pace. He loved working his penis between my tightly clamped thighs. This is a form of intercourse which has given me much pleasure.
He stayed with me for almost a week and then vanished. I knew it was futile to try to find him. It had been obvious he wanted the wandering life and the changes and chances that this could bring.
My last encounter was to my imagination a gift from the heaven. I told you of my row with the slave market. Within a few days the market sent me a boy for initial training. I can only assume that they wanted to appease me. I was busy when he arrived and told him to sit down without even a glance. I must have been half an hour at my work but food and wine had been brought to both of us. I finished my work and turned to the boy to apologise for my neglect. I looked at him for the first time and just gasped. He was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. His face was oval with clearly marked features. His lips were full, rosy and very inviting as was the gentle grin on his face. He took off his clothes and I could think of nothing to say. His body was as delicious as his face. He then, quite slowly, undressed me. He led me to my sofa and sat beside me. His arm was holding me to him very tightly and his buttock was pushed next to mine. He kissed me with passion using his tongue and lips in a manner that no kid of his age should have known. I was beyond caring. He was gently rubbing my body, He then took my hand down to his cock. He firmly told me that he did not want to come too soon, so I was gentle in my work. As soon as I felt his shaft I knew this was different from anything I had encountered before. His penis was unusually warm and plastic. As I gripped it I found that I was surprised beyond measure. The skin sent shocks through my body. It seems his whole life force was pulsating through his magic wand. No penis had ever felt like this. Yes, he had told me that he did not want to climax too soon. I could have held his organ for a month and more. But it was not long before either of us could delay any longer. All that had been promised was delivered in full. We were able to find other ways in pleasuring each other.
I have finished but I would like to feel you have learned something from my writings. It is indulgent as I have had to explore my most erotic memories. I append a Greek view of Roman boy wrestling. It is a quite remarkable document and only came to me by accident as no Roman was intended to read it.
Ave et vale, Geminus
My name is Ephos and my fellow scholar is Denephius. We Athenians were learning that the cruelty in Roman boy wrestling was getting far beyond what even Sparta at its worse could have imagined and so we were dispatched to Rome to enable us to give a report on just how bad it was. This is our report.
We arrived early in the day. This proved to be a good idea as the stadium was already packed. We are very sorry for this but we could only watch one fight. That alone was so horrible neither of us could watch another.
The two boys would have been around fourteen, the Roman tradition being that in such exhibitions the boys would not yet have reached puberty. They obviously appeared to be terrified knowing full well what was going to happen. One of the boys could not stop his legs from shaking and the other looked no more confident. They were made to stand on either side of a soldier, and were quite naked. The crowd was placing bets and needed a good long assessment of the boys’ potential. Their muscles were evaluated and people had to calculate how long they would be able to stand the pain that was about to be inflicted on them. At the same time we felt the mob present enjoyed the thrill of merely looking at nude boys.
We had been shown a manuscript of the rules. We were quite shocked by them. The apparent result was to be achieved by a boy being made insensible by pain, however applied. If injury was inflicted, or even death, this seemed to have been enjoyed by the Romans. Greek fighting inevitably involved some pain being delivered; but it was not the sole purpose of the match. It was very much so in Rome.
The match began. The boys held each other’s hands. They tried to kick each other but their stance would not allow for this. Would we become bored? No; one boy realised what was happening. In a very good move he swept the legs of his opponent from under him. The other boy went down very heavily. The arena in which they were fighting had a very hard wooden base. The sound of the boy landing on his back was heard by all as was his grunt of pain. The blonder boy immediately launched his full weight on his adversary’s stomach with one knee. The stricken child gasped out in agony. But a clear advantage had been gained. Everything imaginable to hurt him was then exploited. His thighs were repeatedly subjected to agonising beating. His bare tummy was at first just slapped for the amusement of the mob. It soon turned bright red. But then the punches began to start in earnest. It was very clear that this boy was suffering. The other boy changed his tactics. He put his fingers into the kid’s mouth and squeezed down onto his lower jaw. The boy was in agony. His legs were kicking hard, trying to give him some relief. He was then put in an astonishing lock to his ankle and wrist at the same time. He could not but scream out, the very thing the Romans were hoping for. His time of trial was to go on. The loose flesh on his stomach was then tortured. He was a fit youth but there was enough loose skin which could be really punished. Everything was done in order to hurt him the more. The poor boy was quite beyond defending himself so his opponent could take his time in what he was intending to do. His flesh was pinched without mercy. His tummy skin was given all imaginable treatment that could hurt. Then his bottom was spanked, and that right hard. It was again heard by everybody as the sound rang out. He cried out with every blow. He was turned over and his stomach was then spanked. It was a new noise, much more hollow and obviously moved the crowd to further excitement. The stomach flesh changed colour to being distinctly red. Then the winning boy used both hands to kneed the bare flesh and muscles of the stomach with his knuckles. The victim, still unable to defend himself, kicked the ground with both legs in an attempt to relieve his discomfort. The other boy turned to his victim’s chest. Several blows were delivered with the side of the hand. We think this was used rather than a punch as it localised the pain and made it worse. The nipples were then tortured. They were bitten, then rubbed hard with the knuckles. The boy receiving this was by now barely sensible. That did not stop him from screaming out in pain. Thank the gods because in a few moments it was finished. Two amazingly punishing hits to the stomach and the poor boy was no longer with us. We do not know whether he died or was just knocked out. It was an incredible act of cruelty but both of us could not admire more the bravery of the lad under attack.
We must say that this torture of young boys leaves both of us with considerable trauma. I was sick again and again. We would love to clear our minds of such unpleasant scenes. This, it would appear, cannot easily be achieved.