Flavius changed the context, stating that the craftsmen under his protection had complained in the morning’s meeting. “If you haven’t heard it yet,” he warned Thaddeus and Antius, “be prepared. Everyone’s angry at the prospect of having to hire workers.”
Antius was the first to speak of the rumors of Caesar in Greece, still hunting Pompey. All of them, it seemed, hoped that Pompey might be successful. Mark Anthony—a supposed friend of Caesar—had so far refused to go to his aid. So the possibility at least, still existed.
But at last the men grew tired of political talk, and Antius looked across at Skaia, who still held to the amphora of wine. “Who is this pretty young thing, Thaddeus, and why have you been hiding him away from us?”
Thaddeus laughed. “I fear it was Glaucus who kept him hidden. Skaia was my son’s slave. I have taken him for some remedial training while Glaucus is away.”
Flavius spoke up. “And Thaddeus beat his pretty ass, Antius, the morning everyone left. Which the slave very well deserved. It’s a shame you weren’t here. You should have seen him carry on with Glaucus. He acted as if he was his master’s equal and Glaucus tolerated it. Right in front of all of us.”
Thaddeus would not let the men criticize his son. He called out to Skaia to distract them. “Strip. Show my friends your body.” Skaia hesitated, until he saw the anger cross Thaddeus’ face. Then he set down the amphora carefully and removed his tunic.
Flavius called him closer, had him turn around, and pointed out the mass of wheals on his back. “I see that beating was only the first of many. Has he continued to resist you, Thaddeus?”
“
He forgets our rules from time to time. But, actually, he’s coming along nicely. Turn, Skaia. Let them see your nipple.”
Skaia obeyed, never lifting his eyes from the floor. His face burned with shame that Paulinus should see him so displayed. But Flavius cared not in the least for the slave’s humiliation. He laughed and cruelly tweaked the red, swollen nub. Lifting his hand, he touched Skaia’s lips, before looking back at Thaddeus. “Just what have you been doing to him, my friend, besides beating his backside?”
Paulinus cleared his throat loudly. “I am ready to leave now. I need my rest.”
Thaddeus looked at his father and started to object. But then he remembered what Skaia had said.
That his father would not want to see him die…
He could see clearly now that it was true. Obviously, his father had come to care for the pretty slave who so often helped him in his gardens. And Thaddeus could understand that he would not want to see what happened next. “Menion, please escort my father back to his rooms.”
“
There is no need,” Paulinus said curtly. “Lucius is waiting for me.”
Thaddeus watched him leave with the slave, sure his father was angry, and equally sure he would be the recipient of a lecture tomorrow. But he was smiling again when he turned back to his friends. “I’ve been teaching the boy to pleasure me with his mouth. He’s not very good yet, but that will improve. His biggest problem is that he doesn’t swallow. I was hoping you both might help me with that aspect of his lessons.”
Antius laughed and Flavius smiled broadly. “Of course. We will be delighted to help you. Come, little whore, show me what you can do.”
Skaia was glad that Paulinus and Menion had left, but it also meant he now had no support at all in the room. For an instant, he was almost paralyzed, and then he forced himself to kneel before Flavius, lifting the man’s rich tunic and shifting the breechcloth aside. He tried desperately to remember what Thaddeus liked, and began to touch the man, his slender fingers caressing the flaccid length. But Flavius only wanted his mouth. He guided Skaia’s head downward, his hands painful in the boy’s hair. “Lick me, slut. Arouse me.”
Obeying as best he could with his head held so tightly, Skaia felt Flavius grow hard under his tongue and then felt the man breach his lips. His climax was almost upon him and Skaia started to swallow as soon as the first drops of salty liquid emerged. But he was unprepared for the explosion of the man’s orgasm, and some of it dripped from his mouth as he gagged. He finished swallowing what he could, and then apologized. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so very sorry.”
It was Thaddeus’ voice he heard next. Hard, and angry. “Lick it off. All of it. And then lean against the wall.”
Skaia did as he was told, his tongue flicking against the man’s skin, licking at the now cooling, spilt seed. He felt himself becoming nauseous and had to fight down the bile in his throat. He was almost grateful when he could stand and go to the wall.
“
Count the strikes,” Thaddeus said harshly as he took his position behind Skaia. The boy managed to get the words out and was surprised when Thaddeus stopped at five. But what Thaddeus said next banished immediately any thought of gratitude. “Antius, do you want to try him now?”
Skaia listened for the reply as he lowered his arms, hoping against hope Antius would refuse. But of course he didn’t, and Skaia turned and walked to him. There were tears rolling from his eyes as he freed the man’s cock and started to lick. Antius, though, was already hard and wanted only sucking; he told Skaia over and over to suck harder.
When Antius climaxed, Skaia swallowed all of his seed, and was feeling almost pleased with himself. Until the urge to vomit became overpowering. He turned his head quickly, and threw up on the floor.
“
Clean that mess,” Thaddeus demanded immediately. As Skaia began to rise, to fetch cleaning implements, he heard the other part of the command. “With your mouth, you stupid shit. And if you throw it up again, you’ll lick it up, again.”
The men began to talk quietly amongst themselves, though they watched as Skaia struggled hard to obey, and they laughed at him occasionally. He vomited twice more, before he was able to keep everything down. When he was finally done, and sure he would not vomit again, he heard Thaddeus command him to lean against the wall.
No, no, no…
Shaking with fear now, Skaia obeyed the order. He gasped out the number for the first five strikes, but after that, he kept losing count. In spite of his best efforts to remain silent, he began to cry out with the pain. He called out eight, having no idea if he was right or wrong. But Thaddeus stopped. And to Skaia’s surprise, spoke to him softly. “Get dressed now, and return to my rooms.”
Skaia tried to hurry, but the pain in his back, and the heaving of his stomach, slowed him. When he finally left the room, he saw Menion just outside the doorway. The Greek leaned toward him and whispered, “You did well. Much better than I did my first time, You’ll be fine, Skaia.”
Looking at him, Skaia thought he was insane.
I’m not fine. I’ll never be fine again. I’m just a common whore. Everyone knows…
When Skaia got to Thaddeus’ rooms, he went immediately to the chamber pot, and puked. With that done, he collapsed on the floor and allowed himself time to weep quietly. But he quickly realized the foolishness of his action. Since he’d not taken the pot out immediately, the odor of his vomit was filling the room. And the pot still needed to be cleaned. He picked it up and carried it to the wash room off the kitchen.
It was there that Castor found him. “Leave it, Skaia. I’ll have someone else see to it.”
Skaia looked at him in gratitude. “Thank you, sir. I… I need to wash myself.”
Castor noticed that the boy’s lips were even more swollen. He reached to help, washing Skaia’s face gently with cloths dipped in warm water, and finally putting a cold one on his neck before leading him back to the kitchen and having him sit. “Were you torn?” he asked as Skaia remained silent.
Torn?
Skaia shook his head quickly. “They… they did not use me like that, sir.”
Castor nodded though he was sure he’d seen Skaia walk stiffly. “Do you feel better now?”
No, never again,
Skaia thought. “Yes, sir,” he lied. “Thank you, sir.”
Castor called out to one of the women. “Get us two cups of fresh juice.”
“
Oh. No, sir,” Skaia tried to protest. “I… I couldn’t keep anything down.”
“
Some cool juice will help settle your stomach, Skaia. And you must clean your mouth. Your breath still stinks of vomit.”
Skaia took the cup obediently and drank. To his surprise, Castor was right. The juice felt good going down, and he didn’t feel so nauseous with it on his stomach. “Thank you, sir.”
Castor stroked his head gently and sat beside him at the table. “Did Master Paulinus leave, before…”
“
Yes, sir. He didn’t watch.” Tears filled Skaia’s eyes again and he thought he would break down completely.
“
The old master is a good man,” Castor said softly. “I didn’t think…” He was interrupted by a young slave returning the clean pot half filled with fresh water. Castor faced Skaia again. “You must go back, now. I had someone air the rooms, so there should be little smell left.” He wanted to tell Skaia he was sorry… but it would do the boy no good to hear it. Better that he simply accept his life.
He touched Skaia’s elbow to hurry him along and watched as the boy left the kitchen, toting the pot. For the first time, he noticed blood stains on the back of the boy’s tunic. But dismissed it since Skaia had not complained. His only thought as Skaia disappeared was that the special garment was ruined now and would have to be replaced.
When Thaddeus came in some time later, Skaia was kneeling in his corner. Thaddeus smiled in satisfaction at the sight, went to his bedroom, sat on his bed and called Skaia to come to him. The boy was moving strangely and before he could kneel again, Thaddeus stopped him. “Remove the tunic and let me see your back.” Skaia pulled it off, flinching when dried cuts were re-opened, and turned around.
Thaddeus was appalled. “Shit,” he muttered. “I should have used the strap rather than the whip.” He knew the fifteen strokes of the whip would hurt this tender boy, but he had not expected
this
. So many cuts, and bruising that was already a deep purple. He touched the skin, and the boy flinched, actually stepping away, quickly murmuring his apologies.
As Thaddeus got up, Skaia watched him fearfully through the veil of his lashes, without raising his head. He thought the master was going for his whip again and was greatly relieved when he came back with a bowl of water and a cloth instead.
“
Why in Hades didn’t Castor clean your back?” Thaddeus demanded. “Didn’t you tell him you were whipped?”
Skaia shook his head. “No. No, sir. I didn’t want to complain. And I… I didn’t know I was bleeding. I’m sorry, sir.
Thaddeus snorted, finding it hard to believe the slave wouldn’t know how badly he was hurt, but he wiped the boy’s back gently. Regardless of his care, Skaia could not completely suppress his whimpers of pain. Still, he did not move or actually cry out.
Walking away again, Thaddeus returned this time with a small jar he’d fetched from Castor.
“
Were you going to whip me regardless, even if I… if I could swallow?” Skaia asked as Thaddeus uncapped the jar.
Defiance?
Thaddeus wondered. He would not have it, and spoke harshly. “Did you have permission to speak?”