The Lycian Prince 29

Casperius had not believed Niachiarus’ theory that Anthonius would return soon to attempt to rescue Sura. However, the major domo recognised that the Nubian had proven many times that he knew the boy better and decided to take no risks. Casperius agreed to humour the older eunuch’s suggestion that the younger should be temporarily returned to the dungeons whilst his tiny quarters were closely watched, particularly at night. The major domo was very surprised as well as immensely delighted that Niachiarus’ supposition had subsequently been validated.

A handsome Praetorian captain, in his mid-twenties, recently appointed to his post because, it was rumoured, he had once been Diocletian’s lover, reported the capture to the major domo and awakened the Emperor. A still-struggling Anthonius was dragged to the pleasure chamber by his huge captor, now accompanied by several more soldiers as well as Niachiarus. Diocletian and Casperius awaited him and they were soon joined by the other boy companions and their eunuch slaves, all woken up by the clamour.

Diocletian looked at the terrified Anthonius, held tightly now between two Praetorians. His early hot fury at the treachery of the two young boy lovers, whom he had considered his favourites, had been transmuted into cold rage, and a desire for grisly revenge. He approached the boy, now stilled by fear, and slapped him hard across the face. “How dare you,” he said, “in return for all my love and kindness, you and that other whore betray me and you have the cheek to conduct your sordid little affair on my own bed. I suppose that it had been going on for a long time, probably ever since Germania where I noticed that you were close. I even took you both into my bed at the same time there, little knowing that I was harbouring perfidious vipers. Where’s the other?” Diocletian reinforced his question with another hard slap. Anthonius managed to rely, amidst tears, that he did not know. He repeated the same answer after four more heavy slaps across the face and one in the groin. “Dirty treasonous whore,” said Diocletian, “we’ll get you to talk soon enough.” Looking at Casperius, the Emperor ordered “Torture him until he tells us!”, before delivering a kick to the lads balls and returning to his bedchamber with his bed boy for the night, gesturing the major domo to follow. Casperius ordered the Praetorians to take Anthonius to the dungeon torture chamber, adding that the boy was to have no less than eight guards at all times. He did not want the slippery eel to escape again.

Anthonius, now quietened by the blows that he had received, was led by the guards through the opulent corridors of the main palace to a large courtyard, bathed in moonlight. They crossed this to some large double doors on the far side, with a Praetorian standing watch in front of them. The soldiers exchanged words and the doors were unlocked. They were confronted by a long flight of stairs down which the delivery party, with its reluctant shipment, proceeded into the chilly bowels of the palace dungeons. Anthonius was taken to a large chamber, even better equipped to inflict distress than the one he had encountered in the obese Arab’s fortress. One of his escorts went to wake the torturer. The man, very skilled in his craft, soon came scurrying and the boy recognised him at once for it was the same man who had branded his thighs.

Anthonius was stripped of his tunic and his wrists were attached to manacles suspended from pulleys attached to the ceiling. The naked boy was hauled up so that his feet were well off the ground and more manacles were attached to his ankles with loose chains dangling underneath. The torturer attached two very heavy weights to these, stretching the boy severely and causing the manacles to bite nastily into the skin of his wrists and ankles. Anthonius started crying in agony and trepidation of what was still to come. The torturer ignored the boy and started instead to chat idly to the soldiers about the forthcoming gladiatorial contests, apparently waiting for someone to arrive.

Half an hour later, Casperius and Lysus arrived. “I’m glad to see that you’re comfortable, Anthonius,” said the major domo as he approached and looked up at the tormented boy, “because we may be here for some time before I’m satisfied that you’re telling the truth. We certainly won’t finish until say, mid-afternoon, for the young Prince and his friends, soundly asleep in their beds at present, have never seen anyone put to the question before, and I’m sure that they would like to watch after they have breakfasted.” Casperius and Lysus walked round the tautly suspended nude boy slowly, taking in the magnificent sight that proved that their plans had come to full fruition. When at Anthonius’ rear, which was at the height of Casperius’ head, the major domo ran the fingers of his right hand over the lustrous perfection of the boy’s buttocks and, when back at the front, he weighed the lad’s balls in the palm. The lad’s penis reacted in the usual way to such attention, causing Casperius to comment “You really are a tart, aren’t you, Anthonius” before conjecturing aloud “I wonder if these will survive the Emperor’s wrath until you are put to death?”

“Now, Anthonius,” Casperius continued, “I repeat His Imperial Majesty’s question. Where’s the other whore?” Anthonius responded in a weak voice “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know. We split….” The boy did not manage to finish his sentence for it turned into an agonised wheeze instead when his balls were struck again. The major domo waited patiently for Anthonius to regain his breath before saying “That is not what I want to hear. I want to know where Armillatus is and you will tell me. I also want to know how you obtained your new tunic Did you have a collaborator?” Anthonius received another hit in the groin for his reply.

Casperius tried another route to try to extract the required information. “After your misbehaviour,” he said, “ the Emperor kindly invited your poor widowed mother and younger sister to Rome to live under his protection. How well they live, if at all, will depend on your co-operation in a number of matters, including answering my questions.” Anthonius did not know that he had a younger sister and the major domo recognised the boy’s puzzled expression, amongst the pained contortions of the lad’s tear-stained face, and placated it by saying “Oh, didn’t I tell you that you had a baby sister, although I can’t understand how. According to your mother, your senile sick old father somehow impregnated her with the child. I think that it’s more likely that it’s a case of like son, like mother. She’s probably as much a whore as you are and lusted with some courtier somewhere. Probably doesn’t even know who the father is.” Casperius did not inform Anthonius that Lysus’ Lycian spies had advised that the king had responded to his wife’s tender loving care by making a significant recovery and that the child was indeed the boy’s full sister. Nor did he elucidate that this improvement in health had prompted Lysus to lose patience and he had sent funds to Lycia so that one of his spies could bribe one of the King’s Roman guards to poison the venerable monarch. The major domo did give Anthonius yet another slap on the reddened genitals for the repartee to his questions, and finished by advising that he would leave the boy’s further interrogation to the expert, although Lysus would like to communicate something first.

Anthonius’ fat half-brother wandered over to one of the walls where a wide variety of wooden paddles hung on hoops. He selected one and approached Anthonius, looked into the boy’s blue eyes with intense hatred and, without saying a word, walked to the lad’s rear and launched the implement viciously against the buttocks, turning them scarlet instantly. However, seven more nasty blows across the boy’s bum tired him and he stopped, despite the fact that he was thoroughly enjoying seeing his actions causing the boy to shriek in pain whilst swaying and rattling the taut bondage chains. He threw the paddle to the floor and joined Casperius, who was now standing at a distance to give the torturer plenty of space to practice his art.

The man collected two evil-looking clamps from a wide selection on a nearby table and unceremoniously reached up to attach one to each of Anthonius’ nipples. The boy screamed instantly and begged “Take them off, please take them off” because they were even more severe than the ones he had suffered at the hands of Impheli. The torturer instead attached heavily weighted chains to the lad’s balls, causing the ball sac to drop noticeably. The man then asked “Where’s the other whore? Where did you obtain the tunic?” Anthonius sobbed that he had already told them what he knew.

The torturer then advanced to Anthonius’ rear and roughly placed part of a long leather enema tube up the boy’s anus, causing the lad to yelp. He then moved to Anthonius’s front with what looked like a thin but hard plant stem in his hands. He masturbated the boy’s penis to full erection, exposing the cockhead slit, and, to the lad’s horror, began to push the stem carefully into the slit, causing discomfort more than pain. The stem was twice as long as the erection and over half had disappeared inside by the time the man stopped and attached an equally thin long leather tube on the end. To Anthonius’ continued terror, both tubes were attached to large leather enema bags, which were suspended from pulleys and hauled into the air. The boy immediately felt cold water flowing slowly into him. He was well accustomed to it flooding into his rear but never into his front. Casperius and Lysus were provided with chairs and drinks by the soldiers and sat to enjoy the fun.

After about a quarter of an hour, Anthonius’ belly began to swell and ache and he desperately wanted to urinate but could not because liquid was flowing the other way down his penis. He began to beg “Please, please turn it off” several times, but the spectators just laughed. After another quarter of an hour, Anthonius’ stomach was grotesquely distended and the boy was almost delirious with pain. The torturer placed clamps on the tubes to stop the water and asked the lad “Where’s the other whore? Where did you obtain the tunic?” Anthonius croaked the same answer as previous. The man did not restart the water because he had recognised, from experience, that to do so would risk causing irreparable damage to the boy’s innards and he had been quietly told, by a clearly disappointed major domo, that the Emperor had ordered no permanent damage for now. However, he was happy to leave what was already inside in-situ for the moment and instead attached weights to the nipple clamps and heavier weights to the chains attached to the Anthonius’ balls, and repeated his questions. He received no answer as the boy was in too much pain to speak.

Whilst waiting for Anthonius to have his fill of water, the torturer, in front of the constantly groaning boy, had lit a brazier and placed three branding irons in the coals. They were the same three he had used on Sura, two of which Anthonius had already had the pleasure of becoming intimately acquainted with previously. “I think you know what I’m going to do with these,” the man eventually teased, “the Emperor wants your body decorated with his emblems in many more places, unless you provide us with answers we can believe.” Anthonius splutted “I’ve already told you the truth!” The torturer sighed “We don’t believe you.”

The Prince and his eleven friends entered at this moment, escorted by other Praetorians. They had been too excited for breakfast.The 11 years olds immediately burst into laughter at the sight of the 14 years old suspended from the roof, with weighted clamps attached to his nipples and chains to his red balls, tubes sticking out of his cock and scarlet bum. They thought the very fat tummy was particularly hilarious. Casperius and Lysus stood and bowed, as did the torturer and the guards already present. The Prince asked Casperius and Lysus “Has the former Imperial bed boy told the truth yet?” The major domo responded negatively. “I didn’t think he would,” continued the Prince, “he’s compulsively bad. I’ve told my father that death, even a very slow and agonising one, would be too good for him. Instead, inflict excruciating pain on him for a long time, then perform a penec, a penec, oh, you know what I mean, cut his dick off but leave his balls intact for lifelong torture, and send him to the Lucanian quarries. I think my father may accept my proposal.”

The Prince stood in front of Anthonius and said “It’s alright, former bed boy, you don’t have to bow in the circumstances”, before closely examining the lad’s new bodily attachments. He was delighted to receive an instant yelp when he pressed Anthonius’ engorged belly and invited his friends to follow. They obtained the same reaction. The Prince turned to the torturer and asked “What’s next?” The man indicated the branding irons. “Oh, marvellous,” declared the 11 years old, “where will they be applied and can we help?” “Well, Highness,” answered the man, “I thought first, to match the eunuch Sura, I would place one round each nipple, one in each of the side hollows of his thighs and one on each buttock before burning another just above his genitals. Then, we could add to his enjoyment and improve his bodily decoration further by progressing to his arms, hands and feet before moving elsewhere. By the end, both he and everyone else will be sure about who owns him. And yes, Highness, some help would be appreciated.” “You’re a good kind man,” the Prince said, “I shall make sure that my father rewards you accordingly.” The torturer thanked the Prince ingratiatingly.

The torturer lowered Anthonius’ feet towards but not onto the floor, until the boy’s head became level with his own. He removed the weights attached to the ankle chains and fixed the chains instead firmly to rings embedded in the ground about half a pace apart. The man proceeded to pinprick the positions for the brands where required and, with his right hand, collected the new circular and now red-hot iron from the coals to gleeful shouts of “Yes, yes” from the watching 11 years olds and pleas of “No, please, no” from the 14 years old. The latter was silenced when the torturer, with his left hand, encouraged Anthonius to bite on a short leather strap, explaining “It’ll save your lips and tongue from being bitten off.” He next addressed the Prince and his friends “Now, Highness and young masters, please watch carefully as I apply this brand around the boy’s left nipple. If you feel confident afterwards, you help place it later around the right one and the others elsewhere.” Anthonius perceived the same look in the man’s eyes as he had seen over a year previously as the torturer gave him a close view of the iron that would imminently scar him for life. The torturer moved the iron just above the intended target, and Anthonius could feel the intense heat. The man asked whether the boy wanted to change his testimony but the lad, with his teeth clinching the strap, nodded a reluctant “No”. The torturer therefore took careful aim and lowered the brand onto the 14 years old’s skin to wild cheers from the 11 years olds and the instant aroma of burnt flesh.

The torturer woke Anthonius up from his faint with cold water to the face before again asking his question and receiving the familiar response from the agonised boy. The man allowed the iron to reheat in the coals until it was ready again and gestured the eagerly waiting Prince to him. “Now, Highness,” he instructed, “carefully take hold of the handle here with both hands. It’s not heavy.” The Prince obeyed and the tool felt comfortable in his grasp, although he too could clearly feel the heat emanating from the end. “Carefully approach the boy and show it to him like I did and ask him the same questions. If you don’t like his answers, centre the circle precisely round his right nipple with one of the tiny eagles at top and slowly lower it onto his skin. Hold it there until you count to ten and then withdraw it directly backwards like I did. Are you happy that you can do that?” The delighted 11 years old, awed by what he was about to do, just nodded affirmatively and advanced determinedly towards the terrified crying 14 years old. The Prince grinned broadly when he showed a sickened Anthonius the red-hot brand and asked the question. Anthonius just closed his eyes this time in response. However, the Prince was not going to be cheated of the pleasure of the look in the 14 years old’s eyes as he burned his body and signalled to one of his friends to smack Anthonius across the back with the paddle discarded onto the floor by Lysus earlier. As the paddle struck and Anthonius opened his eyes in shock, the Prince lowered the brand.

The Prince’s gloating friends followed. Despite their tender years, they all had erections as they wielded the cruel irons. Strangely in the circumstances, so too did Anthonius for, as brand after brand was applied, his cock became hard and harder, but this only added to the boy’s woes as orgasm was impossible because of the catheter.

After several hours of branding, Diocletian himself arrived and he did not at first recognise the tortured boy. Anthonius’ face was awash with tears, his nipples and scrotum had been stretched repugnantly as more and more weights had been applied, his belly was still grossly enlarged and his brands not only now matched Sura’s but exceeded them, with additional eagles displayed on the boy’s upper arms, hands and feet. None of the Prince’s friends had been denied the pleasure of marking the lad, who had had to be re-awakened six times in all during his torment. The Emperor walked around Anthonius and was pleased with what he saw, congratulating his son and his friends on work well done, adding “Now, the traitor will know who his body belongs to!”

Diocletian was less pleased to discover that Anthonius had maintained, annoyingly in various pitches of voice and amidst much crying and screaming, the same confession all through his torture. It was to the affect that the boy runaways had stolen the tunics in a Roman market and had later split up, with Armillatus heading south towards Neapolis. The Emperor asked the torturer, whose skill he respected, for his opinion. The man stated that he thought that Anthonius was telling the truth for the boy was, after all, only 14 years old and he had already suffered much more than most men had in this chamber before they broke. The torturer added that, of course, he could test this further but probably not without damaging the boy permanently or possibly causing his death. Diocletian considered this opinion, remembering what his son had told him previously, that death was too good for the unfaithful slut. He ordered the torture to be stopped, although the treacherous whore could hang round in his present state overnight. The Emperor left with his cheerful son and friends and the less happy Casperius and Lysus. The torturer returned to his quarters and eight Praetorians were posted outside the torture chamber door. Inside the door, Anthonius was left alone to continue to suffer, by Imperial command, the severest agonies until the next morning. It was not yet the third hour of the afternoon.

(To be continued in Chapter 30 – ‘Friend’)