The Lycian Prince 45

It was a warm suuny evening in Rome as the lion approached the kneeling Sura to consume its overdue meal. The cruel entertainments would continue for a couple more hours until failing light brought them to a close. The candle clock, kept in a cupboard at the end of the passageway containing the doors to the thirty private entertainment chambers in the ‘House of Ganymede’, indicated that it was the 7th hour of the afternoon. Anthonius had therefore assumed the appropriate position in one of the chambers to await his first client of this, his sixth, night in the boy brothel, his fifth servicing customers. He had been made up as usual and as usual sported an erection under his sparse cover.

The door of the chamber opened and Ceionius, the boy athlete whom Anthonius had defeated at the Emperor’s boy games, entered. Anthonius’ whole body flushed in shame and shock that Ceionius should see him in this place performing this role. “Well, whore,” announced Ceionius, “it’s really nice to meet you again. I’m delighted to see that you’ve found your true vocation in life but I can’t say that I’m happy to observe that you seem to have forgotten the welcome that I’m led to understand sluts like you should give to your betters!” Anthonius, in his trauma, had forgotten to pay the customary homage and rectified his oversight by sinking to his knees and leaning forward to place his forehead on the floor.

“That’s better,” declared Ceionius, “but too late. I’ll obviously have to punish you for your disrespect, although that can happen later as I’ve a couple of other things I want from you first. Stand up and come here!” Anthonius complied, his face still red. Ceionius walked round the boy prostitute, inspecting him closely. He smirked when he saw the catamite’s erection and remarked “Yes, your body has really found its proper function, hasn’t it whore?” Anthonius remained silent until Ceionius ordered “Answer me slut!” “Yes, sir,” replied a reluctant Anthonius, “I’m ideally suited for a life of prostitution.” “You like it, don’t you whore,” Ceionius teased, “you like the sex and the abuse, you like having big cocks up your bum and in your mouth, don’t you?” Anthonius knew that he had to respond and said “Yes, sir, I like all those things.” “Good,” said Ceionius, “because you’ll soon have my cock in both places!”

“Remove that ridiculous thong,” commanded Ceionius, “I want to see how your own cock has grown in the 12 months since I last saw it.” Anthonius now realised, as he was removing the flimsy garment, why Ceionius was in Rome, for the Emperor always held his boy games at this time of year. “Stand with your hands on your head whilst I examine your cock, whore,” ordered Ceionius and the boy prostitute again obeyed. Ceionius looked at the hard penis, noticeably throbbing and dribbling precum. “It’s certainly grown quite a bit since I last provided it with some attention,” commented Ceionius, “presumably because you and others been playing with it a lot, have they whore?” “Yes, sir,” Anthonius truthfully replied. “Well, you’ll be please to learn, whore,” responded Ceionius, “that I too will be playing with it again, although you might not enjoy what I do to it!” Ceionius cupped Anthonius’ balls in his left hand and started to stroke the ivory-like penis with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “Please, sir,” begged Anthonius, “you’ll make me cum doing that and I don’t want to soil your tunic.” Ceionius removed his right hand from the erection and used it instead to smack the boy prostitute’s face. “You know that you’re not allowed to speak without permission, whore,” he remarked, “and doing so has earned you extra punishment. You’ll also have to learn to control your bodily functions better, although I know it might be difficult for a true slut like you. Now, as I’ve only got three hours, kindly paid for by the new King of Lycia in honour of my octathlon victory in this year’s Imperial boy games, we’ll start. Help me disrobe and no, I don’t want you to wear a mask. I want you to see what a great boy athlete’s cock is like!” Anthonius was not surprised that his half-brother was behind this latest humiliation.

Ceionius was quickly naked and Anthonius was amazed at how big, for someone his own age, the boy’s erect penis was, both in length and girth. The boy prostitute did not know that the supposed 14 years old boy athlete was actually two years older. “I’m going to lay on the bed,” announced Ceionius, “and you can lower your boy cunt onto my prize asset. I’ll let you do the work to make me cum, whore, as you like it so much!” Both boys assumed the necessary positions, with Anthonius squatting so that he was facing his young customer. He lowered his bum towards the eagerly waiting rigid member and felt the engorged cockhead press against his sphincter. Anthonius had had much bigger inside him, despite its size for someone so young, but his anus had always remained remarkably tight and so he knew that what would follow would still hurt. He bit his lip and lowered himself further, allowing entry to his innards to Ceionius’ hard cock. He descended even further despite the pain and, when he felt his buttocks press gently against his latest patron’s skin, began the ascent. Anthonius quickly developed an up and down rhythm that seemed to satisfy Ceionius because he rapidly felt a stream of sperm flow into him. The boy prostitute could not prevent his own natural reaction and he too climaxed.

Ceionius did not at first notice Anthonius’ unauthorised ejaculation as he temporarily experienced post-coitus ecstasy but eventually saw the clear evidence on the boy prostitute’s belly and chest and on his own torso. “Dirty, slut,” he remarked, “you’ll pay for that. Now lick the horrible stuff off me.” Anthonius, assuming a kneeling position between his client’s legs, obeyed. Ceionius liked the attention being paid to his smooth body and his penis re-energised. He therefore ordered “You can suck my cock, whore, after you’ve finished cleaning up your own mess.” Anthonius’ act of fellatio took half an hour to consummate.

Ceionius now declared “Time for me to play with your cock, whore! Stand in the middle of the room and get it hard.” As Anthonius was obeying this latest requirement, with his own semen still on his chest and stomach and some of his client’s running down his inside legs, he saw his young customer examining the collection of whips on offer in the chamber. Ceionius selected one that was quite short and comprised just one beaded narrow heavy leather cord. The boy athlete then took up position immediately to the boy prostitute’s right, happily observing that his victim had achieved the required erection. He asked rhetorically “I think you know what this is going to strike, don’t you whore?” He was pleased to see Anthonius squirm in response. “Now I want you to put your hands on your head and stay still after each blow, or that one won’t count. I’m going to be merciful by landing only four, two on the upper side and two underneath. One each for your earlier disrespect, talking out of turn, cumming without permission and cheating me out of victory last year. It’s a pity that your ally in that plot isn’t around to enjoy similar treatment. I’ll just have to content myself with the thought that he wouldn’t be capable of accidental ejaculation because I’m told he’s lost his balls!” Ceionius laughed heartily at the thought of the poor ball-less Sura and what he was now going to do to his friend’s still whole genitalia.

Ceionius practised a few swings and Anthonius could feel the draught as the whip flew past, near to his hard penis, which humiliatingly became even stiffer as a result. The boy athlete observed the cock twitching and renewed his chortling before he landed his first blow, square on top of the prostitute’s defenceless erection. The pain searing through Anthonius’ body was so intense that he could not prevent himself grasping his agonised member and falling to his knees, screaming loudly as he did so. “Tut, tut,” admonished Ceionius, “that one won’t count because of your lack of self discipline. Resume your position and we’ll have another go.” The crying Anthonius remained on his knees and pleaded “Please, sir, whip me somewhere else, I don’t think that I can stand still when you strike my cock.” He had sometimes managed the feat previously but, in his current demoralised state, he believed the task no longer possible. “That’s another stroke for talking without permission again,” was his tormentor’s initial response before adding “but, to help you control yourself, I’ll make you an offer. I’ll chain you in place for your punishment. However, if you accept, to compensate for my trouble in making things easier for you, you’ll have to suffer twice the number of blows, which I calculate would now be ten. What do you say to my kind proposal.”

Anthonius reluctantly agreed because he felt that he would suffer many more than ten strokes if he tried to endure the genital whipping without physical restraints, and Ceionius soon had his victim’s arms and legs chained to the manacles suspended from the ceiling and embedded in the floor. However, the spreadeagled boy’s cock had softened with the pain and so Ceionius had to play with it to restore it to its former glory. As he did so, he was pleased to see a nice red stripe running across the middle of the upper side.

Ceionius practised again before landing the second blow, but now the first of the ten to be applied. This caught the cockhead causing the sobbing Anthonius to yell wildly and his whole body to shake violently despite the taut bondage. Four more savage blows were inflicted on the boy’s upper penis, now very red but remarkably still rigid and drooling precum, before Ceionius turned his attention to the underside. The third of these blows struck Anthonius’ balls and blood spurted from his mouth because he had bitten his tongue badly. The fourth blow caused the boy’s second orgasm of the session and so Ceionius did not finish with the next. Instead, the boy athlete walked behind the boy prostitute and struck his victim’s balls with an 11th blow, a vicious upper cut.

Ceionius went to inspect the damage he had caused. He discovered that Anthonius’ cock and balls were covered in nasty red stripes, some beginning to bleed. He also found that the action had made his own penis rampant again, so he sodomised Anthonius brutally whilst his victim remained chained. The session still had an hour left.

Earlier, as Sura prepared to meet his new God, a loud blast of a horn stopped the approaching lion in its tracks, despite its intense hunger and the proximity of its repast. A number of heavily armed soldiers entered the arena carrying recently butchered large cuts of beef, which they threw on the ground. The nostrils of those lions not yet feasting were diverted away from the original more scrawny banquets that they had been anticipating to the more appetising bloody fare now on offer. This allowed a couple of soldiers to pick Sura up and manhandle him to safety. The other boys still alive were left behind and they would soon become the centre of the still-hungry lion’s attentions again after the animals had eaten the tasty aperitifs provided by the soldiers. The bemused Sura was escorted by the soldiers along several passageways until they emerged at a heavily guarded spectator entrance. They led the young naked eunuch through and the boy immediately saw Diocletian, Casperius and Lysus waiting for him to arrive and sporting large menacing grins. Sura was now in the Imperial box from where he had been recognised. “Welcome back,” said the Emperor; “I didn’t know that you liked playing with lions and I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, but I have other activities in mind for you, at least for now. I could always return you here on another day to resume your acquaintance with my new pets!”

Ceionius had released Anthonius and made him kneel on all fours on the bed. He then delicately fondled the boy prostitute’s body, paying particular attention at the end to his sublimely smooth buttocks and their central aperture. His attentions had had the desired affect because Anthonius became deeply aroused again, his cock pointing rigidly downwards despite its recent afflictions and orgasms. The bed underneath was being soiled by precum. “I won’t have you again if you don’t want me to,” announced the client, “instead I’ll just go.” He gently fingered the prostitute’s sphincter before continuing “However, if you ask me nicely, like the true whore you are, I might consider servicing your obvious needs again.” Ceionius continued his sensitive fondling of Anthonius’ rear, observing the boy’s cock quivering in excitement and expelling more and more precum. Anthonius tried to resist the awful humiliation of begging someone, who hated and had enjoyed viciously hurting him, to satisfy him in the way he now realised he needed desperately, but the careful ministrations continued remorselessly.

“Well, whore,” Ceionius eventually asked, “shall I go?” Anthonius was silent and Ceionius removed his hands from the boy’s body. This did the trick for the intensely aroused frantic boy prostitute started to speak “Please don’t go, sir!” “Why shouldn’t I, what to you want me to do?” was the response, along with a finger cautiously running down the quivering bumcrack. There was a pause before a low voice said “Please sodomise me, sir!” “You’ll have to speak louder than that” was the further response and so Anthonius repeated his degrading plea more loudly. “Why do you want me to do that? What does it prove that you are? Tell me, in the correct manner, and I’ll see if I can oblige,” Ceionius verbally teased as he manually teased the buttocks again. There was another pause before Anthonius said “I want you to have me again, sir, because I’m a real whore who likes having large cocks stuffed up his bum and in his mouth!” This time both boys knew that what was just said was true. Ceionius rewarded Anthonius for his confession in the manner both desired.

(To be continued in Chapter 46 – ‘Questions’)