Roman House of Slave Discipline

Lucullus had been master of the House of Slave Discipline for over ten years. He excelled at his craft, which consisted of punishing slaves for transgressions against their master’s will. His “house” was a camp located about thirty miles outside of Rome. His success was founded on how many of those he discipline survived. Few that were healthy to begin with died because of his discipline. Also, all that returned to their masters dreaded another trip to his “house” so much that they seldom gave offense against their masters again. Lucullus had grown quite rich from his craft over the years. To preserve his experiences, he left records of his methods and descriptions of how his more difficult cases were handled. Here is a tale excerpted from his records.

Putting My Nightmare to Rest

In the spring, I had begun having a strange, repetitive nightmare, in which thousands of strangely garbed soldiers marched over the world, destroying all in their path. They were tall, blue eyed, golden-haired men. Anything that stood in their path was destroyed. I always awoke from this horrid dream just as they were nearing my home. Awakening in a tense sweat, I would listen a few minutes for the sound of their approaching footfalls, then drift back into uneasy sleep when I could detect only silence.

Slave Baltus had been sent for severe discipline. His master and mistress had personally brought him to me. They discussed his crimes with me . Baltus had forcibly raped their daughter and son while they had been entrusted to his care. The children had told their parents of their mistreatment as soon as they had returned. Baltus smirkingly claimed that they had come to him, insisting that he service them, and that he had merely obliged. The parents, having seen their children’s injuries decided to have me discipline Baltus.

Baltus would be made a eunuch, and I presented the types of eunuch to the parents. Normally, a male slave would be castrated by tearing his testicles out of their sack. The other methods were complete removal of the sack and its contents by cutting, followed by cauterization with a hot iron; crushing the testicles to a fine paste in their sack and letting them be absorbed by the body; crushing the cords that held the testicles and letting them die in the sack; tying off the sack and its contents with a wet rawhide thong, which, when dry, would cut off all blood to the slave’s eggs causing them to dry up and fall off after some time. We all agreed that Baltus would be castrated by crushing his balls in the sack, the most extremely painful punishment of all the castrations. The patricians signed the necessary papers and declined to stay to watch Baltus being punished. They left, after handing me a large sack of silver coins in payment for my services.

When Baltus was brought before me, I started with the shock of recognition. Here stood the embodiment of the soldiers in my dream, lacking only their strange uniform and odd weapons. Baltus was a teutonic warrior, captured by our legions in the forest near Vinograd. He had put up a fierce fight, although unarmed, and it had required great effort to subdue him. Brought to Rome in chains, he had fetched a good price at the slave market, given his health and strength.

Baltus’ Latin, though delivered with a heavy teutonic accent, was perfectly understandable. He mistook my initial shock for fear, but reined in his aggression when he saw the determined look in my eyes. His first remark, preceded by “You weak little Roman puppy, I’ll. . .” died in his throat when a nod from me signaled that his neck chain be tightened. “Listen, slave Baltus. You are here to be punished and that will be done. You have no say in this matter and the less you say the easier it will go for you. Do you understand that?” A sullen nod of affirmation from Baltus.

I had the guards take him to the strongest holding cell in the camp. There, his one ankle was chained to the wall. The chain was long enough to let him to reach the bed, table and chamber pot. The doors and windows were strongly barred, and his chain was short enough to allow a warder to place food on the table while staying out of the prisoner’s reach. After Baltus had been locked away, I called in my carpenter to outline a construction project. When a slave is crush-castrated, he is chained upright to a post, his penis tied pointing upward, his testicles held away from his body in a pan supported by a strong crossbar. They are held in place by an iron bar fastened across the stretched scrotal sac. Using a heavy mallet with its head curved to match the shape of the pan, the castrator smashes the testicles repeatedly until they are the consistency of wet meal. The whole process takes about five minutes. A strong-armed man can reduce testicles to the required consistency with about twenty well-directed blows. The first few blows with the mallet always cause the slave to pass out, so his pain is intense but brief. For Baltus I had designed a much slower and more painful method.

After I had outlined the apparatus to my carpenter, he shook his head. “Good idea, Lucullus. I’d sure hate to have it used on me!” He said he would need about a week to get it built, some materials would have to be ordered and that would take time. After he left with the drawings, I thought over Baltus’ fate. A young newling (newly made eunuch) had eyes for Baltus. I had noticed his interest when we were taking Baltus across the courtyard to his cell. The newling’s name was Derus. I had made a mental note of his interest for use later.

Derus had been sent here because of his uncontrollable desire to service men. His family already had two other sons of normal sexual tendencies, so they decided to finance a new home by his sale into eunuch slavery. Since he was so pretty, having curly black hair, blue eyes and an attractively slender build, it was decided to make him a serving slave to one of the patrician families. Although Derus was sexually driven, he was intelligent enough to be trained in some of the longer-term useful slave skills. Derus underwent his castration willingly, as he had always considered his stones to be heavy, unsightly, useless and disgusting. I had removed his sac and its contents, carefully sewing up the flaps to form a five pointed star as the scar. This star shaped scar is the trademark of my castrations. I am proud that I have rarely lost a eunuch to illness after removing his balls.

As further punishment of Baltus, that evening I took a contingent of guards to his cell and told them to fasten him to the heavy oak table in his cell. Baltus, thinking I had come to cut off his balls, fought like a man insane. It took six men to subdue him and fasten his leg and wrist irons to the table. Even so immobilized, he continued to struggle. I dismissed the guards and sent for Derus, who came quickly. At the sight of Baltus struggling while fettered to the table, Derus whistled and drank in the sight of male muscles coated with a sheen of sweat. I told Derus, “He’s all yours.” Derus walked all around the table, while Baltus, still thinking he was about to be castrated, continued to struggle and curse. I left the cell, closing the door after me, but positioned myself at the peephole to check the goings-on. Sure enough, Derus was already busily sucking Baltus’ cock with great gusto. His black curl-covered head was bobbing slowly up and down between Baltus’ legs. For his part, Baltus had stopped struggling and cursing as his cock hardened. Derus held his balls with one hand while sucking. Soon Baltus was completely aroused. He ordered Derus not to stop, then cried out as he came. I could see Derus’ throat working hard to swallow as Baltus pumped jet after jet of semen into it. Derus stood up and continued gazing at the spent Baltus. “I think you could go again,” he said. Without waiting, he proceeded to lick and suck Baltus hard again. This time, he straddled Baltus and lowered his tight little ass over Baltus’ hard-on. Now erect himself, Derus, at first slowly, then faster and faster, moved his butt up and down. Sometimes he would drop all the way down so that his cheeks were pressed against Baltus’ belly, then he would rapidly move his bottom around in circles. I watched. “Oh, faster!,” Baltus cried. “Don’t stop.” This time, his shout of release was accompanied by a few small whitish jets of fluid from Derus’ dick. Soon after, Derus dismounted, took some water and a rag and washed Baltus off. He gave Baltus’ balls a kiss, then came to the door to be let out. “Thank you, master Lucullus,” he said. “I very much liked that. Can I be let in again soon?” “You’ll be let in tomorrow night again,” I said. Derus smiled, bowed then raced off to his quarters. I sent the guards to free Baltus from the table so that he could roam his cell with only one leg chained.

That night my dream returned. Awakening in a cold sweat, I downed a few glasses of strong wine to go back to sleep. In the morning, I checked on the construction of the new apparatus. To my surprise, it was nearly finished. My carpenter was only awaiting a T-shaped iron rod he had ordered from the swordsmith in Rome. The T-rod would hold the balls in place for the new crusher to work. The stem of the T would keep the balls separated in the sac so that each would be in its own separate cup. The crossbar of the T would hold the orbs away from the body and keep them from drawing up toward the groin and so leaving the cup. The purpose of keeping the balls separate was to allow each to be individually crushed, and slowly at that. To this end, the convex head of the iron crusher was attached to an extremely long iron rod, which had a hole in the far end, through which a stout cord was passed, then looped over a pulley and tied to a large bucket. Water would slowly pour into the bucked through a stopcock, to allow regulation of the speed the bucket filled. The weight of the water would be multiplied by the leverage of the rod so that, as the bucket filled, the slave’s orb would be subject to ever greater pressure, with the end result being that the testicle would suddenly give way and spread out in the cup under the crusher. When this happened, a small bell at the end of the rod would be rung by the abrupt upward movement of the rod’s long end. That would signal that it was time to position the crusher over the other ball. This design had been inspired by Baltus’ insolence and arrogance. I told the carpenter to notify me when the T-rod arrived.

That night I let Derus into Baltus’ cell again. This time, Baltus submitted to being restrained to the table after only some grumbling. It was necessary. Knowing how he had treated his Roman owners’ children. After all, I didn’t want him damaging an extremely valuable eunuch slave like Derus. This way, Derus could have his fun and I wouldn’t have to worry. I left, telling Derus I would return later to let him out. There is a good deal of paperwork in running the camp, and I didn’t want to get behind, especially with so many predatory merchants out there as well as clients trying to avoid paying for my services.

While straightening out the accounts by oil lamp, one of the guards brought a boy in to talk to me. The boy, named Capo, had been badly used. An examination showed that he had been anally raped and bruised around the genitals. His penis was bleeding and his balls had been squeezed very hard, to judge from the amount of swelling. The boy had been quartered in the boys’ section, where no grown slave was allowed for any reason. Only guards, and those always in pairs, were permitted there. I questioned the boy and the guard. The guard said that he had heard screams and a struggle in the boys’ section and had hastened there with another guard. They had found Capo bleeding and injured on the floor of his room. For his part, Capo stated that a large nubian had entered his room earlier in the evening and had forced himself on him. Capo said that when he had complained of the pain, the nubian had squeezed his balls so hard that he had passed out from the pain. When he woke up, the nubian had told him that he should endure his fucking like a man, otherwise there would be other, worse pain. Capo had tried to, but the Nubian was too large and rough, so he struggled and screamed. The nubian had run off when he heard the guards approaching. Feeling sorry for Capo, I had the camp physician awakened to treat his wounds, cuts, bruises and swollen scrotum. Then, enraged, I took four guards and went quickly to the men's quarters to find the nubian. As there were only three in the camp, finding the right one was easy. He was covered with sweat, pretending to be asleep but breathing too heavily. I had the guards chain him up and bring him before the boy. Capo was terrified at the sight of the nubian, but identified him as being the one. “What’s your name, nubian?” I asked. “Cabul,” he replied. “You are aware that the boys’ section is strictly off-limits to everyone except for pairs of guards by my personal order?” Cabul hung his head. “Take him out to the courtyard, guards, strip him and chain him between the punishment posts.” I ordered. The guards hustled Cabul out into the courtyard. This sort of defiance had to be dealt with immediately. I ordered a general assembly in the courtyard to demonstrate to all what defiance of my orders would result in. Cabul was hanging by his wrists between the posts. Naked, his ebony skin glistened in the torchlight. I ordered his feet shackled to the posts so that he was spread-eagled between them. The boy’s shit and blood were still there on his enormous tool. I described his crime of disobedience to the assembled men. “You are all to watch this carefully, for this is the punishment for disobeying my orders.” I said, then walked to Cabul and hacked off his prick and balls with my short sword. His works fell to the ground in front of him followed by a cascade of blood. Cabul screamed, howled and struggled as the pool of blood before him grew. After some time his struggles grew weaker, his breathing got rapid and labored and his skin went from shining ebony to a pasty gray. In a little while after, he was dead, hanging limply between the posts. I dismissed the men and ordered his corpse dismembered and fed to the dogs.

Having restored discipline, I went to let Derus out. When I got there, a look through the peephole revealed him still working on Baltus, trying to arouse him for another round of activity. For his part, Baltus was now trying to talk Derus into setting him free of his restraints. Baltus went on about how much more fun they could have if he were free to use his hands and move about. Derus, realizing that Baltus had been completely drained for the evening, stood up and looked at Baltus. “Listen, Teuton,” he said, “You’re not fooling me at all. Do you think I’m going to let you loose to do to me what you did to those two kids in Rome?” Baltus was silent and looked away. “Just because I’ve got the hots for you doesn’t mean that I’m stupid,” he continued. “Pretty soon now you’ll be a eunuch just like me and those big balls of yours will become dogshit. Now, here’s just a foretaste of what you’re going to get,” Derus paused, bent over Baltus, took his right ball in his mouth, then bit down hard. Baltus screamed in pain. Derus backed off, smiling, then came to the door to be let out. “Lucullus, I’ve had enough of Baltus for myself, but on your order I will come back as often as you like.” “He is scheduled for tomorrow, so he won’t be in any mood for fun for quite some time.” I said. Derus smiled knowingly and walked off toward his quarters.

It took seven guards to get Baltus into my newly constructed apparatus. He was tightly strapped vertically to a heavy post with his hands manacled behind his back. His feet were also manacled behind the post. After he was immobilized, the guards blindfolded him so that he couldn’t see who was setting him up for the crushing. First, the double pan was raised to the proper height to hold his balls. Next, his nuts were stretched out away from his body so that they were over the pan. A heavy metal band was put over his stretched sac between his body and the pan to hold his nuts in place. The iron T-rod was placed between his balls to separate them and fastened down so that they were tightly held in the double pan. Baltus was now ready. I placed the head of the crusher over his right ball and adjusted it so that it would go straight down, forcing the testicle to spread out in the pan as the pressure increased. Last, I opened the stopcock so that water began to drip slowly into the bucket. One of the guards would stand duty and notify me when the testicle gave way, releasing its contents into the part of the sac held in the pan. The crusher worked perfectly. After some time, Baltus began to curse and groan, struggling mightily to pull his ball out from under the crusher. After a few hours, the bell rang as his ball stopped trying to hold its contents. Summoned by the guard, I examined the pan. His right ball had been crushed into small chunks that were in the sac around the crusher’s head. The crusher was pressed tightly against the bottom of the pan, with only the sac skin between it and the bowl. Baltus had passed out from the pain when his right nut had burst.. A few splashes of cold water woke him up again. After emptying the bucket of water, I placed the crusher over his left egg. Again, the water was allowed to flow into the bucket. Certain of the results, I went off to my quarters to get some sleep. It was nearly sunrise when the guard woke me to report: “He’s done now.” Baltus had passed out again. We revived him and I began the enjoyable task of pounding the contents of his sac to the consistency of a thick, smooth soup. I took my time, pausing to have Baltus brought around each time he passed out from the pain. When I finished, his sac had a thick liquid in it. No trace of his proud teutonic eggs remained. I had him taken down from the pole and carried by the guards to his cell. There he was strapped to the bench, and his sac was iced to keep it from swelling too much. Even so, I knew that for the next few weeks, as his body reabsorbed his crushed balls, his scrotum would swell to the size of a large orange, agonizingly painful to the touch. Strapped to the bench, he looked at me. His wit had not deserted him. “So Lucullus,” he said, ”you’ve made a true Roman of me.”

To my horror, the dream returned that night, frightening as ever. Suddenly, it came to me that Baltus may have spawned an heir when he raped the patrician girl in Rome.

A few days later, my messenger returned from Rome to tell me that the girl was indeed pregnant, most likely with Baltus’ child. The parents intended to expose the child, but I realized that someone would pick up a healthy blue-eyed baby and raise it rather than let it die of exposure. With haste, I departed by horse for Rome, arriving at the patrician couple’s house two days later. The daughter was in already labor. I explained to the parents that the child could not be allowed to reproduce. Since they were going to expose the baby anyway, they didn’t really care what I did to it. I stayed in a nearby hostel until news of the birth of a healthy blue-eyed, straw-haired baby boy was brought to me. Then I hurried to their house. Explaining that the child would best be raised as a slave, I offered them a few gold pieces to take the baby off their hands. No sooner did I have the child back at the camp than I lay it down, removed its wrappings and carefully pinched its tiny balls until they were no more. The child struggled, kicked, screamed and cried as I carefully made it into a eunuch with my powerful hands. I gave it to two of my eunuch attendants to raise as their own.

That night, I slept a blissful sleep, undisturbed by terrifying dreams. And I have not dreamed so since. Now I feel that I have fulfilled my destiny and may die in peace.