Then and Now Part 3

 

I took it to show my father after that, and he admired the red marks on its arse and thighs, and then I made it say out loud the words written on it and father clapped his hands with delight.

"It can speak," he said with wonder, "Teach it more Thelonikas and then you will be able to really enjoy it."

"I belong to Thelonikas," the father laughed and clapped his son on the back clearly pleased and the boy beamed in delight, pointing to himself.

"Master," I repeated, so scared of the stick to do anything else.

"I always swallow spunk," that really made the man laugh and he clapped his son on the shoulder again, clearly pleased, and wiped some dry cum off my face.

Father was really pleased with the progress I had made in training the slave and invited some of his friends round so he could boast of my achievement.

He decided not to show the slave off to them, sending it instead to my private tutor, a man I knew only too well to be one who believed in the teaching power of the cane, to learn some more words and then to be fed and rested so it would be ready for my bed later.

Of course, being my father and the man he was, there was no way he would simply have a gathering of admiring and sycophantic friends. Oh, no, this he saw as an opportunity to further my education. He was wealthy and important, and so it would inevitably follow that in time I would also be wealthy and important and I would need to know and understand how to use that wealth and importance in a proper and moral way.
Amongst the guests were several of the most respected philosophers in Athens, and their task was to educate me in the proper and moral way slaves should be treated and regarded.

"Is it not vital," one of them began this lesson, "That we understand and appreciate that slaves are not real people?"

That I could not disagree with, it was what these philosophers called `a self-evident fact.'

"But is it not also true that, before they became slaves, they were real people?"

This was something I had never thought about before; a slave was a slave, a piece of property the same as a vase or a villa.

"And does it not, therefore, follow, that, as slaves were once real people, some vestiges of that state may remain in them?"

"But, even if that were so," I argued, "Does that alter the fact that they are now slaves and must behave as slaves should behave?"

"And how should a slave behave?"

"It should be always aware that it is a slave," I said, "And always seek to please its master."

"And how will, if we may use an individual instance, your new slave always please its new owner?"

"By always satisfying my sexual needs," I said without hesitation, "That is why it was bought."

"So it has but one purpose in its life?"

"It has to be brought to understand that its function is to please me and that I wish it to please me with its body," I argued, feeling less secure in my answers now.

"And would that not mean that you accept that it has feelings, a mind and emotions, just as though it were a real person?"

By the time the meal was over I was very confused. A slave was a slave, it wasn't a real person, it was property. But it could still think and feel and may, inside it, not wish to be a slave. Was that the case with the item I now owned for my pleasure?

"You may beat it until it does always as you wish," the philosopher concluded, "And that is no different from your tutors beating you until you learn. But do not those tutors do no more than beat into you the proper way that you should use your mind? And do they succeed in doing that by the use of punishment only?"

They didn't, they used encouragement and friendly behaviour as well, so that I understood punishment only followed failure.

"You may whip your slave into your bed," the philosopher smiled, "But you cannot whip it into enjoying being there, and if it is to give you the pleasure you seek from it, then it must come to enjoy giving you that pleasure."

My lesson, I understood, was to find a way that my slave would enjoy being used for my sexual needs because, if it didn't, I would find those needs remained unsatisfied.

How was I to do that?

"So what are you?" The man had a firm hold of my jaw and gently twisted my head from side as if examining me. I had no idea what he was saying but he seemed to be taking more to himself than me so I stayed quiet.

He looked about 60, with grey hair and a white beard which was neatly clipped. Like all the people in this crazy place he was wearing a weird outfit, what looked like a white bed sheet twisted around his body, but as I was naked except a leather collar with a fresh tattoo which apparently said I belonged to a boy in year nine I supposed I couldn't really think of his get up as odd.

"Where does he get you boys from?" The man mused to himself, squeezing my jaw so I had to open my mouth, before peering inside to look at my teeth. I had only just had my braces removed and he seemed fascinated by the inside of my mouth.

"So straight! It really is quite extraordinary!" He peered inside for ages, and I fidgeted and tried to pull away as my jaw was hurting, and he clipped me around the side of my head hard with his free hand making me yowl.

"Still boy! Now where are you from? Hellene? No I don't think so. Carthage? Too pale by far. So where?"

I shook my head trying to make him understand I didn't speak his language and he sighed in frustration.

"Where. Are. You. From?" He pointed at me and I whimpered, worried I would get another clout.

"Athens. Athenia." He pointed at the floor and my ears picked up. I had been to Greece on holiday with my parents and thought I heard the name of the capital.

"Athens. You?" He repeated slowly pointing at the floor and then at me.

"England!" He looked confused and I tried again.

"UK!" He shook his head and I whined in frustration. Maybe if I could make him understand where I was from he could help me go home.

"English!!" His eyes registered something and he dropped into another language.

"You're an Engel are you?" It sounded like German with maybe a hint of British and I could understand maybe one word in three, but I sort of got what he meant.

"Yes. English. Please take me to the police!" He shook his head, looking at me with renewed interest.

"So an Engel who speaks a language not like any Germanic I have ever heard spoken, and you don't have the look of a forest barbarian about you. What a curious creature you are. So where are you from?"

"UK! Britain!!" He snorted a little in surprise.

"They really did bring you from the edge of the world didn't they!" I could understand more now, not everything but enough to decipher what he meant.

"Please my parents will do whatever to get me back! We won't tell the police about you! Make them let me go!" He shook his head.

"What is your name boy?" He picked a small wooden stick from his desk and walked around me.

"Josh." Two quick cuts of the stick to my thighs made me howl.

"No boy. You are now the property of the young master of this house so he will name you as he sees fit. You are a slave now, your life as a free boy is over."

"But there aren't slaves any more!" I had expected a cut from the stick but he laughed as if I had told a funny joke.

"No slaves? If that is true then you have come from a most strange place. And where you have come from is of course of no importance. You are now the property of Thelonikas" he tapped my tattoo with his stick, "He owns you" he tapped the collar around my neck "Just as surely as he owns his pony, his hunting dog and his father owns this estate."

"But...". I felt my lip tremble. I had thought this man might help me but now he seemed to be as cruel as the rest.

"Do you not wear his collar around your neck? Bear his mark on your body?" I nodded my head and he gave me a comforting smile.

"You are his possession boy, as much as any piece of furniture or animal in this house. A great deal more attractive than either of those of course, but just as much his possession none the less."

It was a problem I had to solve, and I knew that I'd get no help in solving it. Father had bought me a slave to play with and enjoy, but I understood that I was being trained almost as much as I was training the slave.

My adult duty as a respectable and wealthy citizen of Athens was to always behave in a moral manner, and, in order to do that, I had to properly understand myself, my place in the state and the difference between citizens of differing status, and between any citizen and a slave.

I hadn't simply been given a slave to fuck, I had been given one to aid me in coming to an understanding of who and what I was.

Slaves, of course, are not real people, they are simply slaves; they exist to do our bidding and to make our lives easier, or, in the case of the one I now owned, to make my life more pleasurable.

I sat down and did some thinking, which was exactly what I was supposed to do.

The slave I owned was a boy, and I had chosen it because it was a boy I fancied using in bed. But, as I had learned at the meal, it had once been a real boy. Real boys, all the ones I knew anyway, delighted in sex, we had as much of it as we were allowed to have with each other. We were permitted to feel, rub and suck each other's cocks as often as we wanted, but nothing else.

You had to take an older man for your lover if you wanted to do things like kissing, and make use of a slave if you wanted to have a fuck, but unless you owned the slave you had to be careful about that part. You could use any slave boy at the baths, naturally enough, but to do that too frequently would raise suspicions about your moral integrity. A fuck now and again was ignored, regular fucking of slave boys definitely disapproved of.

As a well brought up boy, conscious of my place in society, I still hadn't indulged in slave boy arse, though some of my friends had already done so.

What that philosopher had got me to appreciate, was that fucking slaves in the baths was really not all that different from wanking alone. The slave had no choice, his arse was for public use. It mattered not the slightest if it enjoyed being fucked or hated it, its feelings in that regard were of no importance whatsoever. But, if I was to get more out of fucking my slave than I got from wanking, then it had to be brought to enjoy it somehow or other.

Not only that, but it had to be brought to enjoying it without it ever forgetting that it was a slave and I was its master.

Perhaps, once it had learned to talk a little, it may be easier.

I hoped it would be because I really wanted to get as much pleasure from it as I could.

"No slaves indeed! I suppose you will tell me that those who labour down the tin mines of Britannia are all free men? Or those blonde boys from your island sold in the markets of the pharaoh's are there of their own free will?"

I didn't understand everything the man said but had got enough of his meaning to realise he was telling me I was a slave. In response I had tried to argue again and received two hard cuts from the cane which had brought tears rolling down my cheeks. I wasn't doing anything wrong and these people kept hurting me!

"You will shed many more of these unless you reconcile yourself to your lot boy. In fact, it is wrong of me to even call you boy, you ceased to be a real person when your Master took ownership of you. You are now a slave, another possession owned by the masters of this estate."

I looked blankly at him, kind of comprehending but not understanding every word and he sighed in frustration.

"Your wants and desires are no more slave, you now exist to serve your young Master in whatever way he requires. And judging by what he has taught you so far, your role will be to bring pleasure to his body just as his pony's role is to convey him to his destination or his bed's role is to provide him with somewhere to sleep. Just as he uses those possessions for their purpose so he will use you, to satisfy his needs and provide relief and distraction."

I whimpered as he spoke and he patted my head.

"You may want this or you may detest this, it will make no difference to the outcome. But just as a stubborn pony will be whipped until it behaves as it is bidden so you to will feel the lash if you fail in your purpose."

I looked at him in confusion and alarm as he tapped my thigh with the cane.

"But maybe my rhetoric is too high for such a simple barbaric creature as you. Simply slave, fulfil your purpose and your life will be easier. Who knows, you may even come to enjoy your new purpose. I am sure the young master will tire of you less quickly if you do not have to be whipped into pleasing him each night. Find joy in pleasing him and maybe you will find pleasure in the act yourself."

I shuffled my feet, he seemed to be taking to me and himself at the same time and I only understood half of it anyway, but my mind was swirling. I had never done anything with girls but I didn't think I was gay, though I had once jerked my cock to the memory of Chris in year eleven's body in the showers after footie trials. I didn't reckon that made you gay, but I had sucked a cock early in the day, and while I had been made to do that my own cock had got a bit of a stiffy.

Could I really come to like living like this? I didn't want to be a slave but none of the people here seemed to want to help me escape, and not knowing where I was I didn't know what I would do if I ran away. I didn't want to be hit with a stick all the time, but I wasn't convinced I wanted to suck a bigger boy's cock either, so my mind was swirling as I was washed by two men who rubbed nice smelling oil into my skin.

All boys, I reasoned, like sex, so the item I now owned must have, when it was a boy and not a slave, have enjoyed the things that all boys enjoy.

A good start would be to find out what sort of place it came from.

If it had been Spartan it would have taken cock inside it from the age of ten, Spartan boys started their military training at that age and their bodies were in constant use by older boys and by men. A Theban boy would know all there was to know because he'd take a lover as soon as he was able to take a man's cock - Thebans had no compunctions about fucking their boys as once a man took a boy for his lover he kept him for life.

A boy from somewhere like Corinth would have no worries about letting an older boy or a man inside and as for Cretans, well, the less said about them the better - all the world knew Cretan boys were total harlots and would lift their tunics and bend over for anyone.

My slave didn't come from any of those cities, that was obvious because he couldn't speak a single word of Greek, but perhaps he came from somewhere like one of those cities.

If he'd learned enough to be able to talk a little, that's where I should start, I decided.

"It is quite the mystery young Thelonikas." I was back in the boy's bedroom while the boy who seemingly now owned me listened to the old man with an expression of clear boredom on his face. He looked like he was sitting through a particularly boring maths class, and I could see him getting more irritated as the old man droned on.

"As far as I can tell it is an Angle but from the Island of Britannia. A very odd combination and it does not speak the language of either, but a mixture of the two. A true rarity Thelonikas and not an easy creature to converse with, though I have managed to teach it a few words. It is not completely without intelligence and at least seems house-broken, but it is of barbarian stock none the less so will never truly comprehend our civilised ways."

The boy Thelonikas smiled in a way which clearly meant I'm bored with you now and the old man at last took the hint and left. Alone in the room I didn't really know what to do, I had been washed and had nice smelling oil rubbed into my skin so felt slick and strange, and the way the men's hands had touched my body had made my cock go into a stiffy. Nervously I tried to hide it with my hands as Thelonikas walked around me.

"You .... do .... look ....very .....nice," I said to it slowly, and that was no more than the truth, because it did indeed look very nice. And its little cock was hard as well, and that made it look even nicer.

"I ..... can ...see .....that...Pericles ....has .been ....trying .....to ....teach .....you .....some .....things," I said to it, noting the new red marks on its thighs.

I nodded my head, understanding most of the boy's words.

"Yes Thelonikas," I repeated, using the words I had been taught.

"Oh good," I smiled, "And he's done a good job. You speak almost like a real person," I smiled again, forgetting for a moment that it was not a real person but a slave.

"Thank you, err, Master." I had trouble remembering the words but it was good to be able to speak to someone, even if it was this strange cruel boy.

He might be strange and cruel but he was undoubtedly fit. He would have been one of the most fancied boys in his year if he had gone to my school and my cock gave a little twitch. Not that I was gay! But I wanted to be more grown up and have a teenage body like this boy.

"You must have more lessons with Pericles," I told it, "And when you can speak properly, I will be able to find out some more about you. But now," I smiled at it, "I would like you to suck my cock again. Try to do it nice and slow so it takes me a while to spunk. I want to really enjoy the feel of your mouth round my cock."

I whimpered and shook my head a little. I was scared of him and didn't want to be hit more but I was also scared of sucking his cock again.

"But I'm not gay. I don't suck cocks!" I tried to make him understand that I wasn't like that, and boys didn't do that stuff together unless they were gay.

I was surprised that it didn't seem to want to do what it was told, but perhaps that was because it still hadn't quite understood that it was a slave.

"You can suck my spunk out willingly, or I can cane you into doing it," I told it, picking up the willow wand again.

I did try to say it nicely, without a threat, so it understood I would not be beating it for pleasure, but simply as essential training.

I whimpered as he picked up the stick. I hated that thing, as a cut from it left a long line of agony on your body, and wanted to avoid it but was scared of sucking his cock again.

But I was also scared of being beaten, and no-one here was going to help me, so with a tear rolling down my face I got down in front of his groin on my knees.

The last time he had forced my mouth open but now, free of his grip, I couldn't quite bring myself to open up and take him inside. I didn't want to be hit, but somehow I just couldn't make myself open my jaws and let him inside.

It obviously knew what it was supposed to do, but its mouth stayed closed. What sort of city had this item come from? The whole civilised world, as far as I knew, took pleasure in boys. The Persians even kept them in things they called 'harems', dozens of them. Persian nobles owned as many as fifty or even a hundred boys to use for pleasure.

This creature, though, came from the far north, according to Pericles, and perhaps they had strange, perverted customs in that cold and icy place.

"It would be better for you," I told it kindly, "To open your mouth and suck me. I really don't want to whip you at the moment, much as I like the way your arse quivers and clenches when the willow lands, what I want now is a good sucking."

Thelonikas lifted the stick and desperate to avoid another cut I opened my mouth and, screwing my eyes closed, took his cock into my mouth.

The previous suck had been forced on me and in shock I hadn't really thought too much about how what was happening felt, but this time was different and I surprised myself by thinking it wasn't too bad. His cock instantly started to get bigger in my mouth which was scary but the taste and feel of it wasn't horrible, and curiously I ran my tongue round it which got a moan out of the boy and a hand on my head. I had never had my cock sucked, apart from this morning, so didn't know what felt good but he obviously liked that so I did it again and got a louder groan.

While I had no practical experience of blow jobs I had seen a few porno vids on my iPad. In those women frantically bobbed up and down on huge cocks making loads of noise, and I tried to do the same so I would do it right. Instantly his cock hit the back of my throat almost making me puke.

"That, slave," I complimented it, "Was a much better suck then the one you did for me this morning." It had used its tongue and opened its throat a little and had eaten my spunk without hesitation. Perhaps it had even enjoyed doing it.

 

 

isukwell@hotmail.co.uk

kyle_mckenzie_123@hotmail.com