Date: Fri, 3 May 2019 06:57:51 +0000 (UTC)
From: "chrisdebus2011@yahoo.com" <chrisdebus2011@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nova Baiae Chapter 5    Gay/male Historical

Nova Baiae
Chapter Five
The Tavern

This is a story of erotic fiction meant to be read by adults over the age
of eighteen years or over the legal age of their place of residence.

Posted by Jean-Christophe: May, 2019

NOTE: nifty.org needs your financial support to continue posting these
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"The characters and ideas contained in this story are products of the
writer's imagination and bear no resemblance to actual persons or
events. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any
rewrites, make alterations or add another's artwork or pictures"

N.B. I regret the loss of my blogs when tumblr suddenly changed the rules
regarding the adult content of their site last December. And more
specifically with the loss of contact with my followers. Currently, I am
trialing a new blog called "Slaves through the Ages" along similar lines to
the deleted ones. If interested it can be found at
http://slvtoby2011.blogspot.com/

The Tavern:

I make my way downstairs into the tavern and I am surprised to see that,
even at this early hour, it is full of patrons. I look around for an empty
table but all are taken and in the room's gloom, I can't see an empty
chair. The room is dimly lit by oil lamps which caste flickering shadows on
the colorful murals decorating every conceivable inch of the rendered
walls. The murals can best be described as obscene even by the relaxed
standards of the ones I am used to on the mainland. But here, obviously no
restrictions apply and all have a common theme - bawdy homosexuality. All
pay homage to the rampant penis, the willing ass and the hungry mouth and I
chuckle at the bodily contortions of the practitioners. Quite obviously,
the artists have taken 'artistic license' in portraying their subjects
indulging in all manner of erotic fantasies.

I see Aeolus serving at a table and, as he leans over to place a tankard on
the table, one of the men gropes his naked ass. Of course, he stands
docilely as his ass is fingered and his cock is stroked. I hear the man
ask.

"You like that, don't you, boy!"

"Yes Master! Very much so, Master!" Aeolus answers in the only way that he
can. He can't show displeasure or distaste. He must endure any and all
indignities his master's customers care to heap upon him. Another man at
the table tells his friends.

"I fucked this slave two days ago. Best two asses I ever spent. He's tight
assed and gives a good fuck. Ain't that right, slave?"

"Yes Master! I try to please, Master. Thank you, Master!"

The man loses interest in Aeolus and delivers a stinging slap to his
buttocks. It reverberates around the room and momentarily halts
conversation.

"Run along, boy! Get back to your duties!"

"Yes Master! Thank you Master." The slave replies and quickly moves away to
attend a group at another table.

I reach the bottom of the stairs and pause to look around and I see another
slave enter from the kitchen and carry a plate of food to a man sitting
alone at a table in a far corner. The slave takes my breath away. He is
sheer physical perfection. His age is probably about twenty and he is tall,
blond, blue-eyed and has the physique of a Greek god. He is in every sense
a 'head-turner' and as he walks away from me I study his powerful body from
the rear. His broad shoulder taper down to a trim, narrow waist and the
delightful curves of his pert buttocks sit atop his strong, muscular
thighs. And like Aeolus, his ass, too, is striped by the cane or the
whip. The sight causes me to catch my breath.

"Quite something, isn't he Rhodri?" Soterus asks.

I'd not noticed Soterus' approach and so his question takes me by surprise.

"Indeed he is, Soterus! He's a fine slave. Aeolus mentioned that you had
two slaves other than him. I take it this is one of the two?"

"Yes, Rhodri, that is my slave Ovid. I bought him along with Aeolus and
another slave, Virgil the same day. They were part of a shipment of new
slaves brought over from the mainland. By the way Rhodri, how did my other
slave perform? Did he give you any reason for complaint?"

"Not at all, Soterus! The slave proved most adept and more than
satisfactory. He left nothing to be desired."

"Excellent! I'm pleased to hear it and I won't have to punish him for
dereliction of duty. Mind you, not that I need any excuse to punish my
slaves. I do so routinely as a matter of course. It keeps them on their
toes and eager to please."

"I noticed that Aeolus had a striped ass just as Ovid does."

"Ahh! It's routine Rhodri. I whip their asses on the slightest
pretense. But as you can see, the tavern is busy tonight and I guess you
are hungry. Let me find a place for you and I'll have a slave bring a meal
to you."

I thank Soterus and yes, he is correct. I am very hungry and I follow him
to the table in far corner where Ovid is serving a solitary diner.

"Casca, my old friend," Soterus asks the middle-aged man, "would you mind
sharing your table with my young guest Rhodri? He is from the mainland and
has come to our island to see how we live."

"Not at all, Soterus!" Casca replies pleasantly. "I'll be glad of the
company. Please pull up a chair, Rhodri and join me in a drink." Then
turning to Ovid he impatiently orders him to "Boy, fetch Master Rhodri a
tankard and pour him a drink. Be quick about it or I'll ask your Master to
cane your lazy ass!"

As Ovid scampers away, I draw up a chair on the opposite side of the table
to Casca and as I sit, I notice for the first time, a slave lying on the
floor at Casca's feet. The slave is lying on his belly with his head
resting on his hands in an uncomfortable imitation of a dog at rest. He
wears a heavy leather, spiked collar and leash around his neck, one end of
which is tied to a leg of the table. He is fitted with leather knee-pads
and his hands and feet are enclosed in leather mittens do doubt intended to
protect him as he crawls on all fours.

As I sit, the dog-slave - for obviously that is what he is - shows an
interest in me. He lifts his head and his sad, doglike eyes stare up into
my face. Embarrassed I avert my gaze. Then, surreptitiously, he slides
forward on his belly and sniffs at my feet. Because I'm wearing shorts and
sandals my legs are bare and obviously, I met with his approval as he
begins to lick my leg. The touch of his moist tongue on my bare flesh isn't
unpleasant but I am nonplussed by the slave's attention. Without warning,
Casca leans forward and slaps the slave's ass as he commands the dog-slave
to.

"Stop that, Rufus!"

Rufus yelps at his master's slap and quickly backs away from my leg as
Casca apologizes to me.

"I'm sorry, Rhodri! Please excuse my pet. He seems to have taken quite a
fancy to you judging by the look of his cock. RUFUS SIT!"

The chastened dog scrambles into position. He sits on his haunches with his
encased knuckles pressed to the floor in front of him. The position, while
quite normal for a real dog, is unnatural for a human and places great
stress on his musculature and gives me an unimpeded view of his hirsute
body. He is powerfully built with a broad chest and flat, firm belly and
these are accentuated by his deep, rhythmic breathing. The tension placed
on his arms highlights his bulging biceps and the powerful muscles of his
haunch and shoulders.

His alabaster white skin is like rare porcelain. It complements the shock
of dark-red curls that crown his head, the grey-green of his eyes and the
full red lips that promise so much. His chest is generously covered with a
fine mat of reddish hair and a matching treasure-trail bisects his ribbed
abdomen and leads my eyes to the luxuriant red pubes that surround his
genitals. The slave is generously endowed and his cock, which is rampantly
erect, pokes out at an angle from his groin. His genitals are encircled by
a wide metal band on which is engraved his owner's name and address. I
watch as his prick twitches and note the small pearl of precum glistening
at his piss-slit. Obviously, the dog-slave is excited and if Casca is to be
believed, then I am the cause of that excitement. The idea isn't that
distasteful to me.

The most notable thing about the dog-slave is his overt masculinity and his
strong physique. Obviously, these are prerequisites that Casca requires of
his pet. The term 'a man's dog' springs to mind. Rufus is in every sense a
man's dog-slave. I am fascinated by the concept that a slave can be used in
this way. It's highly arousing and I feel my cock responding to the erotic
fantasy of owning such a 'pet'.

My thoughts are interrupted by Ovid's return with a pitcher of wine. As he
leans across the table to pour wine into my goblet, Soterus pats his rump
affectionately before slipping a finger into the deep cleft between his
slave's ass-cheeks.  Ovid knows what is expected of him and he wriggles his
ass into position and pushes back against his master's finger allowing him
easier access into the 'inner sanctum' of his body.

"How many times were you fucked today, slave?"

"Five times, Master. Three times in the ass and my mouth was used twice,
Master."

"And your ass is still tight as a drum. Good boy!"

"Thank you. Master!"

"Rhodri, what do you think of my slave, Ovid? He's a handsome brute isn't
he?"

"He's beautiful, Soterus."

The word beautiful seems almost inappropriate to describe Ovid who, like
Aeolus - as yet I've not seen the third slave, Virgil - is the epitome of
young, male beauty. Ovid has honey-gold skin with closely cropped blond
hair and, as I'd already noted, he has startlingly blue-eyes and red,
sensuous lips. Like Rufus, his musculature is most pronounced but unlike
the dog-slave, his torso and limbs are free of any body hair. I wonder at
this disparity in their appearance. Obviously, some owners prefer their
slaves to be hairy while others opt for the glabrous look. After all, a
slave's appearance reflects his master's preferences.

"He is indeed a beautiful, sturdy animal, Rhodri. And you aren't the only
one to think so. Our mutual friend, Karelius is quite taken with him. Since
I purchased him, he has made numerous offers to buy the slave. In the past
I resisted all his attempts but he has finally worn me down and I have
agreed to sell Ovid to him."

Ovid's surprise at the unexpected news that he has been sold causes a
slight tremor to ripple through his magnificent body and I sense his
mounting concern. I suppose no slave likes to be sold; after all the master
you know is better than the one you don't know. I wonder why Commodus is so
anxious to own this particular slave. After all, I'd seen his
litter-bearers earlier and all of them without exception are the equal of
Ovid.

"Why has Karelius bought your slave, Soterus?"

"To indulge his current fad for golden haired slaves, Rhodri. Currently,
Karelius' preference is for sturdy, blond slaves to carry his litter and to
pull his pony-trap around his latifundium. Incrementally, he is replacing
all his non-blond litter-bearers with blonds."

Soterus' words about Karelius' current fad rings true. Commodus had told me
as much on the wharf earlier when he'd mentioned his new purchase of a
blond, blue-eyed slave.

"So the slave is to become one of Karelius' litter-bearers." I reply. "I
saw his litter-bearers earlier on the wharf. From what I saw, Ovid's future
will be one of hard, physical labor."

"Indeed it will be, Rhodri. But the slave is a strongly built brute and I
have no doubts he'll be equal to the task that Karelius demands of him. But
Karelius is notorious for changing his preferences in slaves. Quite likely,
within a few months, his preference will change again and Ovid and his
fellow litter-bearers will be replaced and they will be consigned to work
in Karelius' fields - or worse - in his stone quarry."

I sense Ovid's inner turmoil at the news that he has been sold and of the
bleak future that awaits him as one of Karelius' hapless
slaves. Nevertheless, he shows no emotion; his fear of incurring his
Master's wrath is too great. He has no other alternative and must accept
the fate his masters decide is in their best interests.

"Are you going to replace him, Soterus?" Casca asks.

"Of course! I'll buy a replacement slave from among the new shipment that
arrived from the mainland this afternoon. I intend to visit the slave-pens
to look over the new stock. Casca, as you know, I replace my slaves with
fresh ones every two years to keep my patrons happy so selling Ovid at this
early stage does upset my routine. But Commodus' offer was too good to
refuse and I can live with that."

Soterus' statement that he replaces his slaves every two years comes as a
surprise. My thoughts turn to Aeolus and I wonder what will become of him
when he has served at the tavern for two years. For some reason I need to
know and I ask.

"What becomes of your slaves when you sell them, Soterus? Do you send them
to the slave-market?"

"No Rhodri! I sell them by private treaty to my good friend, Pullo who owns
and operates a male brothel in the next street. He buys my slaves and uses
them as 'whore-slaves' until they are worn out or he needs to replace them
with new stock. When that happens, his rejects are sold in the
slave-market. Invariably, they are bought as heavy duty draft slaves and
used to pull a plow or a wagon until they drop."

Soterus' words are dispassionate and devoid of any sentiment for the
helpless slaves whose futures he dismisses so lightly. I consider the
bleakness of Aeolus' future and I am strangely unsettled by it. However, I
am a guest in Nova Baiae and it is no concern of mine how its inhabitants
treat their slaves. Indeed, it would be bad-mannered of me to voice my
concerns for Aeolus or any other slave.

Almost as though he is reading my mind, Casca asks the question.

"When does Karelius assume ownership of the slave?"

"Karelius has agreed to allow the slave to remain with me until I buy his
replacement. After that, I will have him delivered to Karelius'
townhouse. But I must be about my business, Casca. I'll leave you to
entertain Rhodri and to give him more information on life on Nova Baiae."

"I'm happy to oblige, Soterus. I'll enjoy talking to our young visitor from
the mainland."

Soterus slips his finger from Ovid's ass and orders him back to work.

"Slave, hurry to the kitchen and fetch a bowl of hot food and some bread
for Master Rhodri. And be quick about it! Oh, and one other thing,
boy. When you finish work tonight, you are to report to Master Rhodri's
room in case he wants to use you."

Once more, I am overwhelmed by Soterus' generosity in allowing me to use
one of his slaves. And the prospect of using Ovid is not one to be
missed. I blurt out my thanks to Sotericus.

"Thank you Soterus! You are indeed a genuine host. I will certainly avail
myself of your generous offer."

"Think nothing of it, Rhodri! All I ask is that you dismiss the slave and
send him to the kitchen before dawn. He has ovens to light and other duties
to perform before we open."

Soterus moves towards the bar where some patrons are noisily drinking and
talking. Suddenly, I am left alone with Casca and his dog-slave, Rufus.


To be continued ....................