Then and Now

A story by Ivor Sukwell and Kyle Mclenzie

 

'That looks like the kid,' Len Masters checked the photo on his phone, making sure the dirty blond haired boy was the one he was looking for.

Len was a 'fixer' did all sorts of jobs that weren't at all legal for whoever paid him, and kidnapping a twelve year old boy, even one who had a face seen by millions on tv, hardly ranked as difficult.

Just ease his car forward, no-one around as the kid always left the municipal pool early, getting his training done before normal people were awake. Simple then, to jump out, slap a sack over the kid's head and bundle him into the car and off and away.

Simple, all worked as it should, even if the kid did protest a bit until Len was able to stop and jab the kid's arm with the needle he'd been given.

Nice and quiet then, just a matter of driving to where he was supposed to drop the kid and let the people who'd paid for him take it from there.

Fuck knows what they were going to do with him. Try for ransom money, Len supposed. What else would you want a twelve year old kid for?

"Yeah, that's the one," a man in a white coat said after inspecting the kid. "Get him to the transporter room and off he goes, never to be seen again. Well, not in this time and place anyway."

'Might be a bit of a shock when you wake up, kid," he said to the now naked and still unconscious boy, 'Won't be at all like what you're used to, but I expect you'll get used to it in time.'

'In time' he sniggered at his own joking pun, the boy was going to be very surprised when he woke and found himself being sold as a slave in the Athens of three thousand or so years ago.

 

Thelonikas looked over the stock that Leartas Andrikas, 'Purveyor of Boys for the Man of Taste', had on display.

Though he wasn't an Athenian, probably not even a Greek, Leartas did know a thing or two about boy flesh. He only ever had the choicest of items for sale, and though they were far from cheap they were beyond doubt the best available in the city.

He would never say where he acquired his stock from, but it certainly wasn't from any of the usual suppliers, and as Athens hadn't been at war for ages his stock was not anything that had been captured from an enemy.

Nothing Leartas sold could speak a word of Greek, though that didn't matter really, because slaves always learned quickly when the lash was applied to them, but Thelonikas' father had warned him about over-use of the lash.

'Always be careful not to spoil the flesh you want to enjoy,' his father had drummed into him, 'A willow wand applied to the buttocks, or better still, the thighs, will have all the effect you desire and leave the flesh unscarred.'

Naturally, Thelonikas listened to his father, he was well aware that not to do so was exceptionally painful to the backs of his own thighs, and he was, of course, grateful that his father was intending to purchase a boy for him from Leartas Andrikas; a possession like that was something to boast about.

The black ones that Leartas had were tempting, but the item that really caught the eye of Thelonikas was a boy with dirty blond hair, a very nicely formed body and a cock that looked as though it would rise to acceptable dimensions.

"I like the look of that one, father," Thelonikas eyed the chained slave closely, "It looks as though it has been used to plenty of exercise. I wonder where it came from?"

"Untrained and unused, young master," Leartas gushed, "Ideal property for a young man like you who needs his bed well warmed."

 

The man who seemed to be in charge of this crazy place clicked his fingers and shouted something in a strange language and I shuffled forward.

I'd woken in a daze five days ago, unable to remember what had happened after the strange man had bundled me into a car. I sort of remembered being injected so maybe this was all a hallucination, but after that everything was sort of muddled. I had been in a white room, or maybe I hadn't, and I had been naked, or maybe my clothes were being taken off by strangers and I was struggling. It was like I had the pieces of a map but couldn't put them together.

 

But unless I was hallucinating, and I was pretty sure by now that I wasn't, where the map led was very clear.

I had woken up in a small straw lined cage completely naked, but definitely not alone. I had shared the cage with two other black boys, and my screams of terror had woken them and set them to crying as well. That was when the man had come. He had other men with him and they had dragged me out by my ankles and forced me over a wooden bench and hit me with a stick on my thighs until I had cried myself into silence.

Once I had no fight left in me they had attached manacles to each ankle and linked them by a short length of chain so I could only take small stumbling steps. After that I had been put back in the cage. None of the other boys spoke English or even the few words of French I had been taught at school, and all seemed as scared as me, so eventually I had cried myself to sleep. The next day I had been woken by a banging on the cage roof and forced to crawl out with the other boys to receive a portion of a porridge like substance that tasted foul. Then I had gagged at the taste and let it fall to the floor, and received a whack to the thigh with the stick as a punishment.

That seemed to be the men's favoured way of making the boys do as they wanted. I had quickly learnt that crying, struggling or even being slow to do what the men wanted was enough to get you a cut from the stick. Not that it was easy to tell what they wanted sometimes, I couldn't understand the strange language they spoke, and none of them seemed overly interested in talking to the boys. Instructions were instead given in shouts and pointed gestures, usually simple stuff like 'out of the cage' or 'hold out hands for food' which after the first time weren't difficult to understand, especially not when they were emphasised with a whack of the stick.

Why I had been brought here was however still a mystery. I knew men sometimes kidnapped boys to get money from their parents and sometimes to do horrible things to them, but I hadn't seen the man who had grabbed me again. And when I had tried to tell one of the other men that my parents or the Olympic association would pay to get me back the man had shouted at me in the strange language and hit me round the side of the head.

That had been on the second day and, apart from the morning exercise when we were made to walk in circles around a dusty square in the hot sun, today was the most I had moved in a week. Somehow today seemed to be different as this morning my wrists had been manacled behind me and, along with the two other black boys, had been marched to a small room. Here several men had inspected us, looking at everything from our cocks to our teeth, until finally this man and a boy in their strange outfits had entered.

The man looked like all the others, strange and frightening, but at least the boy looks sort of normal. He was a little older than me, and dressed in a crazy outfit, but I felt a little reassured to see another kid as the men talked on.

 

Thelonikas eyed the young slave item closely, inspecting every detail. It had good thighs, quite muscular for something of the age it seemed to be, and the same was true of its chest and shoulders. Whatever it had been before it was taken as a slave, it had obviously been used to a lot of physical exercise.

That suited Thelonikas; like all boys of his age he enjoyed the bodies of other boys, and appreciated the current popularity of the girly looking ones, but his own personal, perhaps by current standards of thinking, slightly perverted taste, was for boy flesh that was firm and solid; if he was perverted enough to want a girl then he'd go for a real girl and not a boy who looked like a girl.

Of course, that didn't stop him from presenting himself in a manner that was likely to attract the attention of men. All boys wanted a man as a lover and Thelonikas was no different in that respect from any other Athenian boy. He was fourteen now, and still hadn't found a man he thought he wanted and his father found suitable - perhaps the only disadvantage in being the son of one of the wealthiest men in the city was that his father had made it painfully clear that he was under no circumstances to give himself to someone who could not afford to keep him in the manner he was born to.

So Thelonikas wore the usual make-up of a boy; his hair was bleached to a pale gold and tightly curled, his eyes were outlined with black and his lips and cheeks were reddened just enough to make him seem desirable for kissing. The short tunic that he wore, a pale blue thin cotton, was the only thing he wore, again following the tradition that a boy looking for a lover never concealed his essential parts inside a confining loin cloth.

Without a man lover to satisfy his adolescent needs, Thelonikas was in need of something else to at least reduce a little the number of times he was obliged to masturbate. Pan had visited him, as he did all boys, and showed him how to do that, and since that visit by the god, Thelonikas had followed those instructions faithfully and regularly until, at last, his father had decided he should have a slave to do things for him.

And this item looked ideal. Not only did it have a muscular body, when he walked behind it he saw an arse that was an absolute dream. Round and firm, tight and muscular, it was, Thelonikas thought, an arse that would clench and quiver most delightfully when he struck it with a willow wand, and would grip his young cock tightly when he fucked it.

Athenian boys, and men as well, were forbidden by convention to fuck other boys, it just wasn't the done thing. Slaves were different, they weren't people so they could be fucked, and Thelonikas would definitely fuck this one.

"I want that one, father," he said.

 

I shivered as the boy waked around me. He looked older, like he would be in year 9 and I, at twelve, was embarrassed to be nude around him, my own slender cock and hairless balls on display.

For once my cock was soft, and ashamed to be naked in front of these men I tried to cross my legs to hide it.

CRACK! The man with the stick shouted something unintelligible and smacked the long thin stick he carried on the floor by my foot, gesturing for me to open my legs wide. With a whimper I quickly obeyed, I had quickly learnt that a cut with that stick hurt like fuck and my lower lip wobbled and a tear ran down my cheek as the strangely dressed man took hold of my cock and held it up between thumb and forefinger while speaking to the boy.

"Not a lot of it, young master," Leartas grinned as he fingered the slave's small and soft cock, "But it will start growing soon enough, have no doubt of that." He moved his fingers to the slave's balls and jiggled them gently. "As I told you, sirs," he oozed, "It is untrained and untouched, so I am unable to confirm that these are, as yet, producing anything, but from observation I would suggest that they are, at the very least, in the process of dropping. Quite early for an item of this age, but I assume it is the back more than the front that is of real interest to you."

He gave a smile that said, as clear as any words would have done 'If I've summed you up properly, young man, your cock will be up this slave's arse as soon as you get it home!'

As the man played with my balls I could no longer stop myself and tears started to flow down my face. I had never been touched by anyone down there, and I felt utterly humiliated.

But the worst thing was that as the man jiggled and pulled my dick I felt it harden up in his hand. No way did I like this but my dick seemed to have a life of its own and I couldn't stop it getting hard until it jutted out at a right angle. The man holding it laughed and called the boy round, and as tears ran down my face he also felt and jerked my dick while talking to the two men.

Able to take no more I tried to pull away but the man seized me by the back of the neck and dragged me forward to a low wooden rail. The top of the rail was about the height of my waist and I was forced over it so I was bent double. Quickly my ankles were lashed to the posts and a thong looped around my neck and tied off so I couldn't straighten up, and one of the men delivered a slap to my arse as I struggled and thrashed.

I could hear them talking, and as I struggled more my bum cheeks were parted and the voices seemed to rise.

"Please, father," I said when the slave had been thrown over a rail and its arse cheeks parted so I could view its hole, "Its cock isn't too bad when it's hard, and it does have a lovely arse. Please, can you buy it for me?"

I could hear the men talking, the boy sometimes asking something, and there seemed to be an argument for a few minutes as the voices were raised back and forth.

"Your son has excellent taste Sir, and if I may be so bold, a good eye for a slave. This item is young and fresh, strong and firm. It will make an excellent bed-slave, and exquisite body-slave and a most decorative ornament in your home. Which of your friends' households will boast a slave like this, an exotic creature from the edge of the earth? Why none. And that exclusivity is of course reflected in the price of this item." Leartas rubbed his hands together in anticipation of another profitable sale.

"Please, father!" I urged again, "I know it's expensive but it is rather special, don't you think? And when I'm not using it you can have it around the house to look at if you want. I just know all your visitors will feel jealous that you can afford to buy something like that just for me to play with."

Father haggled with the trader some more, but I was sure he'd pay whatever was asked in the end. It really was a wonderful bit of flesh and I knew he'd be showing it off to all his visitors.

 

"You drive a hard bargain Sir, and I am, in truth, robbing myself by selling such a slave at this price. But I see how your son looks at it and, soft as I am, cannot deny such a fine youth his pleasure!" Leartas oozed.

Shaking the man's hand and ushering a clerk to come forward and arrange payment he offered Thelonikas a bow.

"So Sir, it seems you are now the lucky owner of this exquisite item. By the laws of our city a collar is a necessity for the creature, and we have a range of adornments for its neck from which you can choose. The cost of these is of course extra."

The boy's father scowled a little at this extra cost as Leartas showed the youth the metal and leather collars sold by his establishment, ranging from the decorative to the cruel.

"It must of course also be marked as property, and a brand is usually applied to the majority of slaves. Of course if you chose we can have its skin inked instead, we have a skilled artisan who can mark it most decoratively in any way you chose available if you wish, but such a service is naturally in addition to the price of the creature."

"Don't brand it!" I squeaked, "I don't want its flesh spoiled and a branding always leaves a nasty welt that never goes away. Can we just have it inked, father? It's just as good as a branding for telling people that it's a slave."

Father hummed and harred for a bit and finally asked me if I had anything particular in mind. Our slaves were all braded with our House emblem, an eagle with stretched wings, but I wanted something different. This slave was mine, not House property.

"How about something like 'This belongs to Thelonikas' inked on its arse, or, better still," I suddenly thought, "Above its cock. It'll never be allowed to have hair grow there so it could look quite nice."

"An excellent choice young Master," Leartas summoned the ink-artist as the item was dragged kicking and struggling to a low bed and slammed down hard onto it on its back. The little brat had some fight in him after all, but it was no match for the two burly men who kept the livestock in line and was soon strapped securely down.

"It is a most interesting art form, brought from the far east of the silk road." Leartas oozed unctuously. The ink-artist rubbed a lotion into the smooth skin above the slave item's cocklet and pulled out one of his long thin bone needles. The sight of it caused the brat to start yelping and yipping in its strange barbarian language and a wood stick was forced between its lips and securely tied around the back of its head.

"To stop it biting on its tongue." Leartas explained Thelonikas, "The inking is quite painful, not as much as a brand of course but it is best to make sure the creature does not injure itself. Now what colour would you like the wording to be young lord?"

"It's got blue eyes," I said, thinking out loud, "Perhaps something to match them would be good."

Leartas smiled, "Blue is an expensive colour, but a few more drachmas won't make any real difference, will it," he smiled, counting his profit in his head.

This little sale, paid for in gold, of course, would be worth several hundred times as much when he got it back to the time and place he'd had the boy kidnapped from.

The marking finished, and with tears streaming freely down the slave's face, it was released from the bench, its hands tied behind its back and a rope attached to the collar it now wore, a collar that would be the only thing on it as it was led back to the villa where Thelonikas lived with his father.