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A Roman Experience

20 October, 2017 (09:38) | Gay Bdsm Fetish Hookups | By: Gay Adult Stories

By Prisoner (address withheld)

***

I write this now, before the images fade in my memory.
I have just returned from a dinner party at the home of
Marcus Vintorius. Marcus is the most famous man in Rome
today. Those who read these words at some later time
may not know this, so I will take a few moments to
explain. (MM, nc, sm, voy, bd, tor, hist)

***

Marcus Vintorius is a free man, but it was not always
so. He was brought to Rome many years ago as a slave,
and sold to the circus to be trained as a fighter. He
fought in the circus for many years, piling victory
upon victory. Ten years ago he won his freedom at a
special competition dedicated to the god Mars. Since
then, he has built his own stable of fighters and
charioteers. We knew of the fighters, but he had kept
his chariot team a secret, training them outside of
Rome.

Today was the Barracticus, the most important chariot
competition of the entire season. In fact, today’s race
was probably the most important race in the history of
the sport. This is because the two favorite teams, the
Blues and the Yellows had been building up competitive
wins over the past several seasons. Today’s race was to
decide the ultimate victor.

Well, you can imagine the consternation when a third
team entered the race, the Reds. We Romans like sport
and intrigue, and so this secret team was welcomed
vociferously by the crowd. Well, they won, by six
leagues! Pandemonium broke out, and a new team, and
their owner, were jubilantly crowned victorius by all
Rome.

Which leads me to the purpose of this writing, which is
to describe, as best I can, the most unusual, and
exciting dinner party I have ever attended. Marcus
invited the leading citizens of the city, minus their
wives, to a dinner in honor of his victory. In my own
poor way, I will try to share that experience with the
reader.

I arrived at twilight, and was greeted by Marcus
himself.

“Welcome Belorus, welcome to my home,” Marcus spoke
openly as he grasped my hand and guided me into his
house.

“Congratulations Marcus, or should I say Marcus
Victorius,” I replied.

“My only duty is to entertain Rome, and I do it as best
I can,” he responded with a chuckle.

Marcus’s home was on a hillside, overlooking the Tiber.
Like many of the homes of Rome’s elite, it was plain on
the outside, hiding its beauty from the eyes of the
rabble, but inside it was a paradise. Like most such
homes, it was built in a square shape, with the
individual rooms opened, not to the outside, but to the
enclosed garden in the center.

What was unique about Marcus’s home, as we walked
through the various rooms, was the flooring and wall
covering. The floor of each room was a different,
costly, marble. Much of which was not from the nearby
quarries, but must have been brought in from quarries
to the far south. The wall coverings for each of the
rooms was a fabric of a color to match the marble
floor. A very expensive decor, since the fabrics were
quite rare.

But these were nothing compared to the garden we
entered. There were flowering plants and trees of every
variety. Some of which I had never seen.

“We dine here in the garden tonight, as the heat has
made it much to uncomfortable to eat inside.” Marcus
advised as he guided me past bushes and plants whose
perfume wafted across the open spaces.

As we rounded a bush, I’m sure my jaw must have
dropped, for Marcus began to quietly chuckle at my
surprise.

“Part of this evenings enjoyment” he offered as he
guided me to a dining couch. Some of the other guests
had already arrived and were lounging and conversing.
They obviously were far less surprised than I, or had
simply accepted the matter as the offering of a
considerate host.

The dining couches had been arranged in a circle, there
were small tables, piled with fruits, cheeses, meats
and wine. A slave was stationed between each couch to
provide for the needs of each guest. Nothing unusual
you say, no, of course not. But, what was, a little out
of the ordinary, were the columns that had been erected
between each couch.

So, a simple matter of festive decor you might think. I
suppose so, were it not for the fact that bound to each
of these columns were the handsomest collection of
young men and boy’s I had ever seen. Not only were they
bound, but they were all of them, totally naked. But
that is not all, each of their penises were also
completely erect!

“Here, does this please you,” Marcus asked as he guided
me to a couch next to Practicus Selorius, a merchant I
knew slightly.

“Of course,” I responded, nodding to Practicus.

“No, I mean is this alright,” he added reaching over to
fondle the boy bound to the column between my couch and
the one occupied by Selorius.

I looked up at the boy, and my heart began to pound. I
was certain that it could be heard by everyone. The boy
was obviously Greek. He had dark curly hair, an olive
complexion and the most exquisite body you could
imagine. As I looked at him, he smiled slightly,
showing the tiniest of dimples.

His eyes were blue, which I thought unusual, and set
beneath the most luxurious dark eyelashes. I’m certain
my mouth was agape as I continued to survey his beauty,
from his slender neck, down his smooth and well muscled
chest to his rippled abdomen, to the soft luxuriant
hair that caressed his private parts – a strange
description for me to use in this context since they
were exposed for all to see.

His cock, which was hard and jutted out a full 10
inches from his middle was, in itself, an amazing
thing. The god Priapus himself would covet such a
trophy.

“Belorus, are you alright,” Marcus asked with some
concern at my silence.

“Oh, yes, of course,” I replied, recovering from my
momentary surprise.

“He is lovely, isn’t he?” Marcus asked as he silently
stroked the youth’s cock. The boy closed his eyes and
moaned softly.

“He is exquisite,” I responded.

“He and the others,” Marcus spoke indicating the other
bound youths with a wave of his hand, “are provided for
your enjoyment and nourishment.”

“Nourishment?” I asked, puzzled at his use of the word.

“Yes, let me demonstrate,” he replied. “Ordinos!” he
called as he motioned to the slave standing by the
table laden with food, who picked up a piece of bread
and handed it to Marcus.

Marcus smiled at my continued puzzlement, and began to
slowly stroke the boy’s cock.

“Hmmmm,” the boy moaned more loudly now that his penis
was being masturbated in earnest.

“Hssssh, aaah,” the youth gasped, and shuddered as his
cock gave up his youthful cum in spurt after spurt of
milky white cream. Marcus held the bread to catch the
boy’s juice. As the last bit of cum dribbled onto the
bread, Marcus smiled at me and popped the bread into
his mouth.

“Delicious,” he commented as he chewed. “Ordinos,
prepare some for our guest.” he ordered.

Ordinous looked at me quizzically and I nodded in
assent. He then picked up another piece of bread and
came over and began to masturbate the boy. This time it
took a little longer, but with a gasp and shudder, the
boy gave up more of his youthful cum, as his cock
spurted the white cream over the bread. Ordinos handed
the bread to me and I took it hungrily. He handed me a
cup of wine.

“Enjoy yourself,” Marcus urged as he left my side.

I lay back and began to sip my wine quietly, taking the
time to look at the other diners and their own
selection of bound “nourishers.” The slaves that served
each diner were also responsible for keeping the bound
men and boys hard. As soon as one of them would lose
his hardness, the slave would message it back to life.

There were 8 dining couches and as many bound youths.
It was clear that they came from every part of Rome’s
Empire. Marcus must have paid an enormous sum to
collect such selection of young male beauty.

“Uuhgh,” I heard a voice grunt. I looked over to where
Practicus lay in time to see his boy, with a low groan,
give up a load of his thick male juice. He was
obviously a Gaul, for his body was pale and his hair
the color of straw. He was as beautiful in his own way
as my Greek boy.

He opened his eyes and his mouth gulped for air as the
last dribble of cum was squeezed from his hardened cock
onto the waiting bread. There was a hint of rose to his
cheeks which told me that while he was perhaps more
strongly built than my Greek, they were probably the
same age, 18 or 19 years. His chest was smooth, and
very well muscled; his definition being more pronounced
by the strain caused by his bindings. A trail of pale
hair led from his navel down to the golden bush at his
groin, which surrounded an even larger cock than my
Greek boy’s member. His legs were much more powerfully
muscled.

“Pleasant, isn’t he,” Practicus murmured, gesturing
towards his Gaul.

“Quite,” I responded, “as beautiful as my own,” I
continued, pointing to my Greek.

“Ah, yes,” Practicus replied “that one is beautiful. I
almost asked Marcus to place me where you are sitting,
but Marcus thought I would appreciate this one more.”

“I see,” I responded with a small laugh.

“Yes,” he continued speaking as he got up from his
couch and stood by his Gaul, “Let me show you what
Marcus did that made up my mind for me.”

Practicus reached over with both his hands and took the
boy’s rosy nipples in his fingers and began to twist
and pinch them violently.

“Hsssh, aaah,” the boy moaned in an obvious mixture of
pain and pleasure.

The slave serving Practicus picked up another piece of
bread and held it under the lad’s cock. Then in only a
moment, the boy shuddered and shot another load of cum
over the waiting bread. No one had touched his cock. He
had cum purely from the torment Practicus was
inflicting on his nipples.

Practicus released the now reddened tits and returned
to his couch. The boy sagged slightly in his bindings
and breathed even more deeply. The slave handed the
bread to Practicus who popped it into his mouth and
began chewing.

“Marcus knows that I like a little spice in my
selection of boys,” he continued between chews. “I
would venture to say that each of these” he indicated
all of the remaining bound figures, “were selected
especially for the unique taste of each of the guests.”

I nodded in agreement. My own enchantment with young
Greek boys had obviously come to Marcus’s attention. I
gazed up at my own boy, and he smiled tentatively.
“Hmmm,” I wondered to myself how complete Marcus had
been in researching my interests. I rose from my couch
and stood by the youth.

Slowly I began to rub his chest, stopping to lightly
trace designs over his two light brown nipples. I
continued rubbing down to his abdomen, poking a finger
into his navel, then brushing lightly down to his pubic
hair and then along the shaft of his cock. I grasped
his cock and began to stroke it evenly. He closed his
eyes and lay his head back against the column. A drop
of precum appeared and I took it on a finger and rubbed
it along the underside of the shaft. I moved my hand
away from his cock and continued down his scrotum,
grasping his balls and pulling them down tightly in
their sac.

“Uhhh,” he moaned softly at the mounting pressure on
his delicate nuts. They were of average size, about as
large as small walnuts. I continued to manipulate them,
pulling and squeezing lightly. More precum appeared and
began to descend on crystalline threads. I took more
and rubbed it along my finger.

I released his nuts and reached under them to the crack
of his ass. He had been tied so that there was some
movement possible away from the column. I reached up
between his legs and pulled his ass cheeks away from
the column. I probed the crack with my finger until I
found his hole. Slowly I pushed the finger that had
been lubricated with the precum into him.

“Ah, uh,” he moaned. He opened his eyes and stared into
mine. The slight flinching of the muscles around his
eyes told me that he was a virgin where I was probing.
I smiled and continued to push my finger up into him.

“Huuuh,” he uttered sucking in a deep breath as my
finger reached his prostrate. I began to slowly push
and message my quarry. He gulped, his chest heaved with
the deep breaths he was taking. Clearly he had never
experienced what I was doing before. The precum was now
flowing almost continuously. After a moment I saw his
cock raise up slightly, on its own. Ordinos started to
put a piece of bread under it’s head.

“No,” I ordered, and Ordinos backed away. I put my
mouth over the boy’s cockhead just at the moment when
he arched his back away from the column and groaned
loudly. Volley after volley of sweet cum shot into my
mouth. I held his cock tight in my lips, feeling each
pulse as another load coursed through the shaft and out
the end.

“Uuuuuh, uhh, ah,” he moaned, thrashing his head from
side to side, his whole body shuddering with the
violence of the orgasm.

After a moment or two, I felt the pulsing slow and then
stop, and I released his cock from my mouth and stood
up. His chest was still heaving, and was covered with a
thin film of sweat that made it glisten in the fading
daylight. His eyes were closed and his head was resting
back against the pillar. I returned to my couch and
Ordinos brought me some more wine.

“Yes, Practicus,” I spoke to my dining partner, raising
my cup in a toast to our host ” Marcus does know his
guests well.” I took a long swallow and looked around
at the other diners. There were still a few places
open, but the majority of the guests were here.

“Belorus,” I heard a voice call my name. I looked
across the dining area to a couch opposite me.

“Lepulius,” I called out and raised my cup again,
saluting my old friend.

“Some dinner, eh” he responded indicating my Greek boy.
Obviously he had witnessed my “taking nourishment.”

I smiled and nodded my head. He began laughing
uproariously.

“I see that you have been well provided for also,” I
replied, ignoring his laughter, and indicating the boy
tied next to him. The boy was pale, also well muscled,
with dark curly hair, and a triangle of dark curly hair
whose base went from dark nipple to dark nipple and
whose apex pointed towards the dark bush that
surrounded his cock and balls.

“Ah yes,” Lepulius replied, “Marcus knows that I like
my boy’s to start with a little fur.”

I must have cocked my head a little quizzically, for I
really didn’t understand what Lepulius meant by
“starting” with a little fur. To my mind, either you
liked hairy boys or you liked them smooth. Though as I
thought about it, I knew of a few friends that liked to
shave their boys.

“Here,” Lepulius continued, “let me show you.” He got
up from his couch and stood by his boy. Reaching down,
he picked up a pair of ivory tweezers from the table.
Reaching up to the boy’s chest, he began to pluck the
curly hairs.

“Hssh, aah, oh,” the boy moaned in pain as each of his
hairs was pulled out. At the same time, Lepulius was
rubbing the boy’s cock with his other hand. Even though
the boy was obviously in pain from having his hair
pulled out, he was being kept hard by the stroking he
was receiving at the same time.

“Aaah,” the boy groaned more loudly as Lepulius took
the tweezers and pinched one of the boy’s nipples. He
then stopped, tossed the tweezers back onto the table
and sat down.

“By the end of the night,” he mumbled between sips of
wine and pieces of cheese, “I’ll have this young chick
plucked completely smooth.”

I did not comment, but merely saluted him with a raised
cup and continued to look around at the other guests.
There was much conversation going on between the
diners. I continued to eat quietly, exchanging
occasional conversation with Practicus to my right, and
with an older, very fat, merchant on my left, whom I
didn’t know.

Periodically the various bound boy’s would be milked,
and their cum presented on bread to the guests.
Occasionally a guest would get up to do something else
with his boy, which ran the gamut from simple fondling
to more complex entertainments.

The fat merchant on my left had tied a leather thong
around the balls of his boy and would every so often
pull on the thong until the boy gasped in pain, at
which the man would chuckle and order his slave to milk
the youth for more cum. His boy was also a Gaul, but
with hair that was red. His body was pale and covered
with freckles. He was hairless, but it appeared to be a
matter of youth rather than genetics. He was younger
than my boy by one or two years, being 17 or 18 years
old. Also, his pubic hair had been shaved, leaving his
cock to jut out from pale skin.

“Honored guests,” I heard Marcus’s voice thunder and
looked up to see him stride into the center of the
dining circle.

“I hope that you are enjoying your meal,” he offered,
at which point all of the guests, myself included,
began cheering and raising our wine cups in toast to
our host.

“I thank you humbly for the honor you do me to be my
guests,” he replied. “It is time, I think, to begin the
evening’s entertainments.” he smiled and clapped his
hands, and then strode towards his own dining couch,
which had been empty until this time. He lay down and
took up his own wine cup and raised it to signal his
major domo, who bowed and then clapped his own hands.

Two youths then stepped out from behind a bush and
strode into the center. They were both tall, powerfully
built, and very handsome. One was dark and the other
light in hair and complexion. They wore loin cloths and
their wrists and ankles were wrapped in leather.

“We start with a wrestling match,” Marcus explained,
“feel free to wager on either combatant. They are of
equal ability and skill” he continued. He nodded
towards the wrestlers and they bowed.

Then they assumed their opening postures, stalking one
another warily. The dark one made his move first,
grabbing the neck and arm of the lighter one, and
trying to trip him with his leg. They struggled for a
few moments and broke free of one another. Slowly they
manuvered around one another. The lighter one then
struck, grabbing both arms of his opponent and trying
with his leg to trip him. This time it worked, and the
dark one fell backward, with the lighter one trying to
pin him down. They struggled and rolled over and over,
each one trying to gain the advantage.

By this time the guests were cheering and wagering
wildly. The dark one broke free and stood up, but
before the light one could also stand, he kicked his
opponent in the abdomen, causing him to double over in
pain. Taking this advantage he pounced on the other boy
grasping his arms and pinning them behind his back with
one arm, while the other arm was wrapped around his
neck. The boy gasped for air and struggled to break
free. His chest heaving with exertion. It was obvious
that both were also excited by the battle for each of
their loin cloths poked outward from the hardened cocks
underneath.

The light one broke free and rolled over, causing the
dark one to fall forward. The light one quickly rolled
back on top of the dark one and pulled his arms behind
his back. The dark one bucked suddenly, tossing the
blonde off his back, he quickly stood up as did the
blonde. They grabbed one another’s arms and began
struggling again.

By this time the diners were screaming for their
favorite, and the wagers were increasing in size. The
boys appeared to be oblivious to the commotion, being
more concerned with one another in this duel.

Suddenly the dark one kicked upward with his foot, and
tossed the blonde over his head. The blonde landed on
his back, and before he could get up, the dark one
jumped on top of him and kicked him in his groin.

“Aaah,” the blonde gasped in pain as both hands went to
his groin to grab at his balls. The dark one rolled him
over and pulled his arms behind his back, the blonde
was doubled over in pain and made no move to fight his
opponent.

Marcus tossed a leather thong to the dark boy, who
immediately bound the blonde’s wrists together. Another
thong was tossed by the major domo, and the dark one
went to the blondes ankles, pulled them together and
bound them tightly. He then stood up to the cheers of
his followers. The blonde boy lay quietly at his feet,
clearly still pained from the blow that felled him.

“Fuck him, fuck him,” a chant began to rise from the
diners.

“Fuck him, fuck him hard, show him who is master,” the
diners continued to chant and clap their hands.

The dark one looked to Marcus, who smiled and nodded
his head. The major domo tossed another leather thong
to the victor, who then pulled the blonde up on his
knees, and bound his legs just above the knees. He
looked around at the diners who were cheering him on,
smiled and reaching down, ripped the loin cloth off of
his victim. The diners screamed their approval at the
sight of the now naked blonde, whose cock was no longer
hard, but hung limply between his legs.

The dark victor was not limp, for as he stood up, his
cock still pushed against his loin cloth. He reached
down and ripped it free, and his cock bounced upward in
the air. It was huge, jutting out at least eleven
inches and was thick in circumference. I pitied the
youth about to be impaled.

He stroked his cock a few times and knelt down behind
the other boy. The blonde’s head rested on the floor,
his ass was held upraised by the bindings behind his
knees. The dark one began to pry at the pale ass-cheeks
with his fingers. Finding what he sought, he pushed
into the blonde with thick finger.

“Ugh!” the bound youth groaned.

The victor stood up and began to probe with his cock.
As its head entered the other’s hole, he thrust forward
with all his force, burying the full eleven inches into
his vanquished opponent.

“Aaaah!” the blonde youth screamed in pain as the
other’s cock invaded his backside.

“Aaah, aaah, aaaaah,” he continued to scream as the
other continued his methodical fucking, pushing in and
out, oblivious to the pain he was causing the other.

The diners were cheering and applauding at each thrust
and scream of pain. In only a few moments the dark one
closed his eyes and gasped, then pulling his cock free
of the other, sat back on his haunches as his cock
erupted sending a spray of cum over the blonde boy’s
back. The dark one’s cock continued to jab the open
air, shooting load after load of male juice, until the
blonde’s back was covered with the viscous liquid,
slowly dribbling down his sides.

The dark one stood up and raised his arms in victory.
The diners went wild. Marcus beckoned to the boy and he
walked over to where his master reclined. Marcus
reached down and picked up a laurel wreath, and placed
it on the still hard cock. The diners screamed their
approval.

Slowly the dark one proceeded around the center, his
cock jutting out defiantly, carrying his victory
wreath. The diners tossed coins and flowers in his
direction, which a slave gathered up. He strode proudly
out of the area, ignoring his opponent who still lay
bound and exhausted from the battle and the fucking.
Two large slaves came into the area as the dark one
left, and picked up the blonde youth, not bothering to
even untie him, and carried him out silently, dragging
his feet as they went.

“Now,” we heard Marcus exclaim, “another
entertainment.” He clapped his hands, and ten young men
came tumbling into the center of the circle.

They were all completely naked and oiled, their bodies
glistening in the flickering light of the torches.
Obviously they were an acrobatic troupe, for they
proceeded to jump and roll and tumble, forming shapes
and movements with one another. They were certainly
entertaining, but not nearly as exciting as the
wrestlers had been.

I suppose it is a fault, but we Romans do like our
entertainments a little on the harsher side. But these
youths were pleasant none the less, and some of them
were even beautiful. They continued their acrobatics
for several minutes and as a finale, formed a tall
triangle by standing on one another’s shoulders.

We were feeling quite magnanimous by this time and
applauded loudly at their efforts. Marcus smiled and
clapped his hands and the youths tumbled down from
their stance and stood together, bowing deeply. Marcus
tossed them a pouch of money, which their leader
grabbed up. They all bowed again and ran tumbling from
our midst.

“Honored guests,” we heard Marcus again call out, and
turned our attention to our host.

“Honored guests, I am pleased that you liked this
pleasant interlude,” he spoke indicating the acrobats
that had just left.

We all applauded and shouted our thanks.

“Thank you, thank you,” he continued with mock
humility. “But, this was only a momentary pleasantry.
I know my fellow Romans, and I know that you like your
entertainments somewhat more, shall we say,
sophisticated.” the diners, sensing another
entertainment more to their liking, screamed their
agreement.

“I also know that many of you lost some hefty sums of
money by wagering on that unfortunate excuse for a
wrestler,” he continued.

At this last comment there was laughter from the
winners and much grumbling from the losers. We also
noticed that the slaves had begun to move away two of
the serving tables at one end of the dining area.

“Yes, yes, there are losers and there are winners, but,
let it never be said that guests in Marcus’s house had
only once chance to win,” he continued. Now our
interest was really piqued. What did Marcus have up his
sleeve, we all wondered.

The slaves, having removed the serving tables, were now
erecting an X shaped cross where the tables had been. I
don’t know about the other guests, but at this sight,
my own heart began to pound with excitement.

“So,” Marcus began to speak again after the murmuring
had died down, “I give you an opportunity to regain
your losses or win even more.” He clapped his hands and
we all turned towards the direction he was facing.

The slaves had finished erecting the cross, and now two
more came marching out from behind one of the hedges.
They held the blonde wrestler between them. He was
still naked, but his ankles and legs had been unbound,
and his wrists were tied in front of him.

The slaves marched him over to the cross, untied his
wrists and then pulling up on his arms, secured each
wrist to one of the uprights of the cross. Once his
wrists had been secured, they pulled his legs apart,
causing his penis and balls to hang free between his
legs, and bound his ankles to the lower parts of the
cross. They then stepped away, leaving him spread-
eagled.

I now had a chance to really look at the boy. He was
powerfully built. His arms and legs were thickly
muscled. Because of his bondage, they were straining
beneath his skin. His face was almost feminine in it’s
beauty, his flaxen hair hung limply over his forehead,
matched by thick flaxen eyelashes. His cheeks were
touched with a hint of rose, indicating his youth. His
eyes were the most startling blue color. They were a
deep, sapphire blue, the color of deep pools of water.
His neck, unlike what one might expect from a wrestler,
was not overly thick, but symmetrical, leading to
broad, well muscled shoulders that were also straining
with the pressure of the bindings. His chest was
completely smooth, and lightly browned, indicating many
hours spent in the sun, probably in learning his
wrestling skills. His nipples were the size of coins,
and dusky rose in hue. His abdomen was rippled with
muscle.

As my eyes reached the platinum bush at his groin, I
let out an involuntary gasp. Even limp, his cock was
huge. Erect, I imagined it to be even larger than the
one possessed by the dark one who had beaten him. His
balls were also large, and hung pendulously in their
sack, swinging slightly.

“Here is my wager,” Marcus began to explain, “I will
double the money you lost, or double the money you won.
” the guests shouted and cheered, making it difficult
to hear what Marcus was saying. He stopped talking and
smiled, and motioned for the guests to quiet
themselves.

“Please, please?” he asked, “let me finish my wager.”
The shouting slowly died down.

“As I said,” he continued, “I will double the amount of
your wagers if ” he paused for effect, and the silence
was complete, as each diner waited for the conditions
of the wager. ” if, you can cause this boy to cum ” he
indicated the bound blonde, “through torture,” he
finished. There was a momentary silence as he finished,
to be replaced in a split second with roars of
approval.

“Wait, wait,” he continued, motioning us to be quiet
once again, “there are conditions.” He stopped again,
and we remained silent.

“Each of you must make the boy cum, using whatever
means of torture you choose,” he indicated towards the
youth again and we looked to see his major domo setting
up a table of implements.

“But, you must leave no lasting marks, and you may not
stroke or in any way massage his penis. He must cum
from the torture itself,” he finished.

The guests looked at one another, and soon the cheering
and applause started again.

Marcus smiled, and opened his mouth to speak again,
motioning for quiet.

“I will give you one advantage,” he indicated, “I will
tell you now that I have trained him myself, and warn
you that he can withstand more pain before orgasm than
you might think.” He stopped speaking and smiled as the
diners screamed their own challenges.

“Very well, very well, who will be first?” he asked
simply.

I took a sip of wine, wondering whether or not Marcus
was playing us the fool. There were eight of us. Surely
this boy could not be made to come 8 times, no matter
the stimulation. But, we were all pretty well in our
cups by this time, and I was prepared to meet the
challenge, and from the sounds of the others, they too
were going to rise to the occasion.

“I’ll torture the juice out of him.” I heard Lepulius’s
voice exclaim. I looked over to see him get up,
unsteadily, from his couch and proceed more unsteadily
over to the bound youth.

Half way across the circle he stopped, and weaving
slightly, turned back to his couch. We started to jeer
at his apparent change of mind, but he simply ignored
us and upon reaching his couch, picked up his ivory
tweezers, and smirked. He then turned and made his way
across the circle to the waiting boy.

Upon reaching the youth, he reached up and rubbed the
back of his hand across a rosy cheek. He let one hand
drop to the chest and a finger began to trace designs
across the smooth skin. He smiled at the boy, and
reached towards his pubic hair with the tweezers, and
taking one of the strands, pulled hard.

“Ah, ahh!” the boy gasped in pain as Lepulius began to
pluck each of the pubic hairs out of the boy’s skin.

“Aaah, oooh!” the boy continued to groan as the hairs
fell away from his crotch. Occasionally Lepulius would
reach up with the tweezers and pinch one of the rosy
nipples.

As he continued the torment, the boy’s cock began to
harden. By the time Lepulius was half-way through the
pubic hair, the lad’s cock was completely hard and
oozing precum. Lepulius reached over and plucked at the
fermium that hung loose underneath the head of the
youth’s cock.

“Ah, aaah!” the boy complained and pulled uselessly at
his restraints. Lepulius ignored him and resumed the
plucking of his pubic hair and the pinching of his
nipples.

After ten minutes or so, the boy’s crotch had been
completely denuded of its hair, and though the precum
flowed continuously, he had not been forced to come.
The crowed began to jeer Lepulius’s efforts. He looked
over to us with a scowl, and reaching down began to
pull out the hairs on the boy’s scrotum, occasionally
pinching the skin as well.

“Aah, oooh, hssssh,” the boy moaned and began to pull
more furiously at the restraints that held his wrists
and ankles.

Then we saw Lepulius smile, and redouble his efforts,
pulling out hairs that rested at the base of the boy’s
cock-shaft. The cock, began to slowly pulse upward, and
we knew that Lepulius had won his wager.

“Uuuuuuhhh!” the boy groaned deep and long as his chest
heaved, hips thrust outward and his cock jabbed the
open air, spewing forth thick creamy cum.

Lepulius turned to us and smiled broadly at our
accolades. Marcus was cheering along with us and nodded
to a slave who came up to Lepulius with a bag of coins.
Lepulius bowed deeply at his host and strode
triumphantly back to his couch.

“Now then!” Marcus shouted over the din, “who will be
next?”

“I’ll squeeze all the cum out of those nuts.” I heard
the fat merchant next to me shout.

I turned to see him push himself up from his couch and
on even less steady feet than Lepulius, make his way
over to the blonde youth.

I glanced up at the red headed boy to see him expel a
sigh of relief and lay his head back against the
column. I surmised that he was relieved to have a few
moments respite from the fat paws that had been mauling
his own testicles. Throughout the evening, even during
the acrobatics, the fat one had not left the boy’s
balls alone, pulling continuously on the thong and
occasionally slapping them.

I looked back over to where the other boy was spread-
eagled and saw that the merchant was selecting some
leather thongs from the table.

“Well boy, those are very pretty nuts” he spoke loudly,
more to us than to the youth. “Lets see how full of cum
they are,” he finished as he grabbed them in one of his
huge paws and squeezed.

“Uggh!” the boy grunted at the sudden pain. “Aaah!” he
moaned even louder as the fat man pulled the testicles
down into the scrotal sac as far as they would go and
began to wrap the leather thong around the loose skin
of the boy’s scrotum.

As the fat one continued to wrap the thong around the
boy’s scrotum, the youth began to move his head from
side to side, in an effort to block out the growing
ache in his balls. His cock, which had started to
soften after his orgasm, now began to stiffened once
again.

The fat merchant continued to wind the thong around the
scrotal sac. The boy lay his head back against the
cross and closed his eyes, mentally trying to will away
the dull ache that must have enveloped his groin.

In a few moments, the fat one had wrapped sufficient
cord around the sac so that the balls were forced at
least four inches away from the base of the youth’s
cock shaft. The youth clenched his teeth trying to keep
himself from moaning. The merchant reached over to the
table and selected another thong. He made a loop with
the thong and placed it around the boy’s right
testicle. He drew the free end tight and began to loop
the rest around the testicle.

“Aaaaaah!” the boy finally gave up the effort to block
his pain and moaned loudly as his testicle was gripped
even more severely.

“Aah, aaah, aah!” he continued to moan and once again
he began to

pull at his restraints as the fat merchant took a
second thong and wrapped his left testicle as tightly
as he had the other.

In a moment he stopped and stood back to survey his
handiwork. He looked around at the other diners and
then reached over and lifted up the bound balls for all
to examine. They had already began to redden because of
the pressure.

“Ughghgh!” the boy groaned, clearly the least pressure
now applied to his testicles would cause pain.

“Now, I will win your wager Marcus, and force these
beauties to give up their cream,” the fat merchant
spoke with confidence.

Then holding the bound scrotum with his right hand, he
reached down with his left hand and brought it up
sharply, hitting the testicles with the palm of his
hand.

“Aaaaaaah!!” the boy screamed and thrashed about trying
and failing to break the restraints.

“Aaaaah, aaah, aaaaaaah!!” he continued to scream as
the fat merchant again and again pummeled his trapped
nuts.

The merchant added a twisting motion with his right
hand, now twisting and pummeling the boy’s balls. But,
even though the boy continued to scream from the
torment, his cock was growing harder.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!” the boy screamed his loudest scream
and his cock spurted out load after load of his cum,
this time not as thick as the last, but still white and
creamy looking. His chest was heaving, and he sagged
limply in his bindings.

The fat man turned after releasing the boy’s scrotum,
he smiled, and wiping the boy’s cum off of his hand
with his napkin, he spoke directly to Marcus.

“Pay up honored host, pay me my wager,” and he began to
laugh uproariously as a slave brought him his money. He
sauntered back to his couch as the major domo removed
the thongs from the youth’s nuts.

I looked over and saw the red head open his eyes and
sigh another sigh, this one more of resignation than
relief. He closed his eyes as the fat man sat down.

“Did you miss me my pretty,” the fat merchant asked the
youth and then with a laugh, he reached over and gave
the thong another sharp tug.

“Ugh,” the boy groaned at the pain in his balls. The
fat man continued to laugh and began eating and
drinking to his victory.

“Who will be next?” I heard Marcus ask.

“Me, Marcus! Me!” several voices cried out at once.

“I think you were the first to claim the wager,
Tarques,” he spoke to a Roman military officer seated
half way round the circle. I did not know him, and
looked with renewed interest in the possible tortures
he might conjure up for our blonde victim.

He stood up and walked directly toward the youth. He
was not unsteady. Either he had not been drinking as
much as the rest of us, or he was able to hold his wine
much better.

Reaching the youth, he raised both his arms and took
the boy’s nipples in his fingers and began to twist and
pinch them.

“Hssssh,” the boy hissed between clenched teeth.

“Are you going to twist his nipples off?” I heard one
of the diners question.

“Yes, yes, twist off his nipples,” a chant began from
the diners.

He released the boy’s tits and turned towards us with a
smile.

“Now, what do you take me for, an amateur,” he asked
with mock disdain.

The diners laughed at this retort and became silent,
waiting with mounting excitement at what was to come.

“I have served in Rome’s legions all over the empire,”
he started to lecture, “I have seen all manner of
tortures, some that we inflicted on the barbarians to
make them docile, and some they inflicted on themselves
and on our troops as punishment,” he continued
speaking.

The excitement in the room was palpable. All murmuring
had stopped as we listened intently to this soldier.

“But, the race that has developed torture to a high art
are the Persians, and…” he paused, like Marcus, for
effect. “It is a Persian torment that I will visit on
this lad to win my wager.” He spoke with a booming
voice and turned to look up at his victim. The boy
merely sighed deeply and lay his head back once again
on the cross, as though preparing himself once again.

First Tarques picked up a small whip, and we thought
that he intended to whip the youth. Certainly a painful
torment, but not really that unusual. But, instead, he
took the handle of the whip and inserted it up the
boy’s rectum, and slowly he began to fuck the boy with
the handle.

“Uhhhh,” the youth moaned as he moved his head from
side to side. His cock, however, soon responded to the
pressure on his prostate, and began for a third time to
harden. As soon as the cock had grown to its full
length, Tarques withdrew the whip handle and tossed it
aside.

Then, holding onto the base of the boy’s cock, with
cock and balls held tightly by his right hand, he
reached into his tunic and pulled out a long ivory rod.
He turned to face us, holding the rod up with his left
hand.

“Watch closely my friends, at this Persian delight,” he
spoke huskily, his own excitement obviously growing.

He turned and then, slowly, ever so slowly, he began to
insert the rod into the end of the boy’s penis.

“No, aaaaah, uggggh, hsssssh!!” the boy began
immediately to scream as the probe pushed its way into
his cock.

When Tarques had inserted the rod several inches, he
stopped and began to withdraw it.

“Aaaaaaaah!!” the youth screamed even louder.

Slowly Tarques pushed it back in, then pulled it out,
and pushed it in again, methodically fucking the boys
cock with the rod.

“Aaaaaaaaah!!” the boy continued to scream, as he
pulled fruitlessly at his restraints. He could not move
his cock away, for Tarques held it tight with his right
hand.

“Ah, aaah, aaaaah, aaaaaaaaaaah!!” the screams grew
louder. Then the youth shuddered.

Tarques stepped aside and held up the cock and rod for
all to see as cum oozed out around the base of the rod
and down the youth’s cock-shaft. Tarques pulled out the
rod, and a thick wad of cum shot up and spattered his
tunic.

“There Marcus,” the soldier continued, wiping the rod
off with a napkin and reinserting it into his tunic. “A
Persian delight for your guests, and a wager won for
me.”

Marcus laughed and motioned to a slave who brought the
soldier his winnings.

I looked over to the blonde youth. His head hung limply
and his chest was heaving greatly. He appeared to have
fainted from this last torment. Obviously, Marcus had
observed the same thing, for as I watched, a slave came
up to the boy and tossed water over him. With a start
he awoke, and laid his head back against the cross. His
cock had become limp once again.

“The boy has come thrice, who will be the fourth to
meet my wager?” I heard Marcus exclaim to the diners.

A general commotion followed as the diner’s voices rose
as one, each trying to out shout the other to be the
next one chosen to torture the youth.

“Hmmm,” Marcus mused quietly. “I think you were the
first to call out Modicus,” he nodded towards another
one of the diners I did not know.

The man who rose up and walked towards the waiting
youth was by far the oldest in that company. His hair
was white and his hands gnarled with age. I took
another sip of wine, wondering what an old man might
conjure up for our victim.

As he reached the youth, he turned and smiled a
toothless smile to the rest of us and commenced to
speak.

“This one’s nipples have been neglected in all that has
happened so far,” he spoke in a nasal tone, “I will
make up for that oversight, and win the wager.”

He turned and reached up to the boy’s nipples with both
his hands and took hold of them, pinching them between
his fingers. He began to twist and pull on the rosy
nibs.

“Hsssh!” the youth gasped at the mild pain that now
spread out from his nipples.

The old man continued to twist and pinch, occasionally
digging a fingernail into the soft flesh.

While it was certainly entertaining to see the boy
grimace, and gasp from the torment, and his nipples
certainly were beautiful as they became more and more
red from the torture; it was clear to me that this was
far too mild to cause him to give up his semen.

“That will never make the boy cum,” someone shouted
from the audience.

The old man stopped, and turned once again to the
audience to answer the retort.

“Patience, my friends, is a virtue,” he continued in a
lecturing tone. “One that is learned through age. I am
only preparing this boys tits for what is to come.”

My curiosity was piqued. What was the old man planning?
He smiled smugly, and turned back to the boy. He
reached into his tunic and withdrew two, very thin,
filaments of some kind. Reaching up to the boy’s right
nipple that was now jutting out like a small mountain
against the flat of his pectoral, the old man looped
the filament around the nub and tightened it, causing
it to bulge slightly. He repeated the act with the left
nipple. Both nipples were now bound tightly in the
filaments.

Then, holding the right nipple in his fingers, so that
all could see, he reached into his tunic once again
with his free hand and withdrew a thin ivory needle. He
touched the end of the needle to the engorged nub and
slowly, ever so slowly, began to twist the needle and
push it into the flesh.

“Aaah, aaaah!!” the boy screamed out as the needle
first pricked and then punctured his tender skin.

The old man stopped, and turned his head to look back
over his shoulder and smiled, as he continued to push
the needle clean through the boy’s nipple.

“Aaaah, hssssh,” the boy continued to moan, as the old
man repeated his actions with the left nipple. He then
withdrew both his hands and stood silently in front of
the youth.

The boy’s eyes were closed as if to ward off the pain
that now engulfed his chest, his breathing was heavy
and labored. Two tiny rivulets of blood began to slowly
descend from his nipples.

The old man turned to us and spoke.

“Now watch, impatient ones, at how quickly I extract
his seed.”

He then reached up and took both needles in his fingers
and twisted and turned them slowly, as though to
carefully prolong the agony.

“Aaah, aaaaaah!!” the youth screamed at the pain.

The old man ignored his cries and continued to twist
the needles.

The boy pulled at his restraints and moved his head
from side to side, his teeth clenched tightly to ward
away the pain. When he could no longer fight the agony,
he opened his mouth and uttered a low, animal like
moan.

“Ooooohhh, aaaaah, hsssssh!” he cried out, his head
continuing to thrash from side to side.

The old man continued to twist the boy’s, now reddened
nipples and the small rivulets of blood continued their
coursing down his chest. The old man looked over his
shoulder to us and smiled as the boy’s cock once again
began to harden. In a moment it was completely hard,
jutting out and dribbling more precum.

“Aaaah!!” the youth began a louder scream as his back
arched and he thrust his hips outward from the cross,
his cock jabbing the open air.

The old man quickly stopped twisting the boys nipples,
and deftly removed the needles, then just as quickly he
reached up and began to bite first one and then the
other nipple.

“Aaarrrgggh!!” the youth screamed out as his cock
erupted for a fourth time, sending a spray of watery
cum to spatter the old man’s toga.

“Aargh, aaah, hssssh,” the boy continued to moan as the
old man continued to bite his nipples. Finally the last
bit of cum dripped from the head of his cock, and the
old man stood back.

All of us were cheering and clapping as the old man
smiled victoriously and, after accepting his bag of
coins from a slave, walked proudly back to his seat.

“Well, honored guests,” Marcus spoke once again. “You
have made this youth cum four times, there are still
four of you left to test your skill. Who will be next?”

Only I, Practicus, and two of the other guests
remained, one of whom rose.

“Ah, Porteus,” Marcus acknowledged his guest.

The man, whom I didn’t know, was middle age and only
slightly paunchy, unlike the fat merchant next to me. I
picked up my wine cup and took a sip, excited by the
prospect of yet another display of torment bringing the
boy to orgasm.

Porteus reached the boy and smiled up at him. He raised
one of his hands and began to lightly stroke the boy’s
chest, pausing to trace invisible designs around the
recently tormented nipples, and then drawing his hand
down the boy’s chest lightly brushing his abdomen, and
down further to cup the boy’s balls in his hand.

The youth closed his eyes, waiting for whatever new
torture this guest would inflict. He clenched his
teeth, clearly expecting Porteus to squeeze or
otherwise batter his nuts.

Porteus only smiled and took his hand away, letting the
balls drop to swing freely between the boy’s bound
legs. He then walked away from the table of implements
towards one of the nearer diners.

“Giving up already,” the crowed began to tease, knowing
that this was not the case. Porteus only smiled.

Upon reaching the reclining diner, Porteus spoke softly
and the diner smiled and nodded his head in agreement.
Porteus then picked up the candle that provided light
to the diner and walked back to the boy.

Reaching the youth he held the candle upright in front
of him. Then he reached upwards towards the boy’s chest
and began to slowly tip the candle.

“Aaah, hsssh,” the boy began to moan as first one and
then many more fiery droplets began to spatter against
his chest.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah,” he continued, his moans punctuating
each impact of the fiery wax.

Porteus continued to drip the hot wax onto the boy’s
chest, covering completely first one and then the other
nipple, then continuing down the chest, he dribbled
more wax onto the bronze skin.

“Aaah, aaah, oooh”, the boy continued his cries. His
cock once again began to grow hard.

Porteus continued the fiery assault, covering the boy’s
abdomen with a thin coat of wax and then proceeding
down to the boys groin to cover the area previously
covered by pubic hair.

The youth clenched his teeth once again to prevent
himself from crying out further.

Porteus then took the boys cock and balls in one hand,
holding it by its base, and began to dribble the hot
wax over the shaft and tender globes.

“Aaaaaah,” the youth cried out as his cock and balls
were covered in hot wax.

He shuddered, but before his cock could shoot the first
volley of cum, Porteus held the shaft upwards and
dribbled hot wax into the pee hole.

“Aaaarrrrrrggh!!” the youth screamed his loudest
protest as his body shuddered in violent orgasm, his
cock stabbing the air, but his cum trapped by the wax
plug that now encased its opening.

“Arrgh, aaaaah!!” he continued to cry out, as the
pressure built up in his tormented penis.

Finally Porteus squeezed the cock head and the wax plug
was ejected to be followed by a steady stream of watery
cum.

“Uuuuuuugh!!” the boy groaned, as the pressure was
released and the cum flowed freely from his body. He
hung limply in his bindings, his body covered in sweat.

END

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