The Story of Philo

“This is the life,” Ely said as he sipped chilled wine from a silver goblet, reclining on a divan on Philo’s outdoor solarium in his villa on the Isle of Capri.

After Karelius Pantius’s death, the two freed lads hurried south to Capri to check on Philo’s inheritance. The villa was astounding, on a promontory overlooking the blue Mediterranean Sea and surrounded by rich vineyards. Philo was ecstatic because it reminded him of his own home overlooking this same sea. As he gazed at the gentle waves down on the sandy beach, he reflected that these waves would also at some time touch the beaches of his Byblos. His eyes watered and his heart ached. Would he ever see his home again?

Philo smiled at his friend, lying naked and taking in the sun, his tanning skin beaded with sweat, accentuating his muscles. He reached over and caressed Ely’s smooth chest sentimentally. For the past week, the two lads had been together in the villa alone with the slaves. There were more than two hundred slaves serving the villa, tending to the kitchens, the cleaning and scrubbing, the gardens, the vineyards. But the five slaves that Philo had been given to choose from the Rome household were 2 girls and 3 boys, the five of them 13 years old, but each of them was enslaved from a different part of the world. One came from Britannia, one from the land of the Vikings, one from the mountains between Spain and the Frankish lands, one from the shores of North Africa and the fifth from the land of gypsies to the east.

Lady Cassandra was to join them some two months later, after the burial of her husband and the rituals that would follow. Every night, and sometimes a couple of times during the day, Philo and Ely had sex, with Philo invariably fucking the Israelite. The supposedly one-hundred percent woman-oriented lad was turning into enjoying the bodies of males, but never allowing himself to be taken anally after his rape experience. A couple of times, Ely cajoled Philo to let him fuck him, or “make love to him” as Ely had put it, but Philo had refused categorically. It was always the Levantine’s huge and fat cock that plundered the Israelite’s ass.

The boys sucked and fucked all over the place, enjoying the freedom and the feeling of lordship. A few times, one or two of the young slaves from Rome, especially the Britannic lad and the gypsy girl, would join Philo and Ely, in particular when Ely needed to fuck and Philo wouldn’t let him. The Britannic slave was deliciously slim and wiry, with a smooth teenage creamy-white body, and was able to take Ely in all positions which the Israelite had learned and experienced when he was a male whore in Rome.

“Oh, Ely,” Philo said as he teased his friend’s nipple, “just think. If we had escaped like Darbo wanted us to do, we would have been either crucified or killed in some field by now. Instead look at us,” he reached down and stroked the Israelite erecting cut cock.

“And we wouldn’t be fucking like rabbits either,” he said as the macho Philo gripped his own thick dick and stroked it. He then bent over Ely and took his circumcised knob between his lips, his own man-sized cock becoming rigid and reaching up over his navel.

As Philo sucked on Ely’s cock, tasting the salty pre-cum, he thought how incredibly he had changed. He was now lusting for his friend, his body, his dick, his ass. Ely was much more exciting than Cassandra. Deep in his thoughts, deep down Ely’s cock shaft, Philo felt warm wetness around his throbbing cock. One of the boy slaves he brought with him from Rome was servicing him. It took a few minutes for the hard cocks to shoot streams of hot sperm down the throats of the slave boy and of Philo.

Smacking his lips, Philo lay next to Ely. “I just want to go home.”

“What?” Ely exclaimed. “And leave this? This is heaven, Philo. You want to go back and herd goats? Are you crazy?”

“I miss my family, my mother, my sisters, Salimana, even the fucking goats.”

“I hate my home,” Ely murmured, burying his face into Philo’s brawny chest, taking in the sweaty, salty scents of the young body. “I hate how they kicked me and humiliated me. But I am also grateful for them even as I detest each and every one of them. I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t have loved you.” He licked around Philo’s nipples, savoring the masculinity of his friend who had just sucked his dick.

Slowly, unpredictably, Philo turned around pressing his bubbled and fuzzy butt onto Ely’s crotch. Ely moaned, taken by surprise.

“Philo?” Ely whispered erecting inside the Levantine’s crack. “Philo? Are you sure?”

“Shut up and do it,” came Philo’s husky voice as he stroked himself to erection, his body trembling at the feeling of the hard rod throbbing between his thighs and prodding at his hole. It was a strange feeling for the young man. The rubbing of Ely’s hard cock between his thighs sent shivers throughout his body, and he tried his best to erase the image of the raping he had been subjected to the first day he was made slave in Karelius Pantius’s house

Philo tried to relax as Ely applied ointment on his cock and inside Philo’s crack. Ely penetrated slowly. Philo shut his eyes tightly, clenching his teeth, grunting at the invading pain, recalling the raping gladiators. Ely kept only his cockhead inside the rim, realizing what it must feel for his friend. As Philo’s ass muscle started to relax, Ely pressed gently sliding his shaft slowly all the way with one long thrust. Again, he kept his cock buried without moving. Philo pressed back on Ely’s crotch as Ely wrapped his hand around Philo’s waist and gripped his cock. Slowly, Philo’s tunnel relaxed around the shaft which was a sign for Ely to start fucking. It was nothing like the ravaging pounding that Philo had experienced. This was love making.

Philo erupted without touching himself as he felt Ely tense and fill his body with his own explosion. The boys kissed, their sweaty bodies glued to each other.

“And don’t think this is going to become a habit,” Philo grunted as he felt Ely’s slimy cock slid out of his ass. “I did it as a favor, you know.”

Ely laughed and kissed him on the lips saying, “I can tell by the way you shot your nuts and spasmed on my dick.”

They playfully wrestled for a while, the bond between them cemented.

The day Lady Cassandra was to arrive many preparations were made. Philo wanted to give the noble woman a feast, showing his fealty and appreciation. Ely was sad since once Cassandra was here, Philo’s time and bed would be filled. There wouldn’t be a place for him.

Cassandra’s retinue arrived in the early afternoon. Philo and Ely were waiting for her at the gates to the villa. As soon as her litter rested on its wooden stiles, lowered carefully by the sixteen muscled and sweating nearly-nude litter-bearers, Cassandra stepped out and held her hands wide. Philo fell into them giving the lady a hug. As Philo was letting go of Cassandra and stepping back, he heard Ely behind him give a loud gasp. Philo turned around to see his friend gazing above his head at the litter, his eyes wide. Philo again turned towards the arrivals to see a handsome young nobleman in his early twenties alighting down the steps.

“Lord Darius,” Ely whispered.

“You are well to be surprised,” Cassandra said with a wide grin on her face as she saw the look in Ely’s eyes. “It was quite hard for me to find a suitable present for you, Ely. I had to force Magnemonus and his matron to give me the description of the young lord who had been visiting you every day.”

Darius stepped forward and unabashedly grabbed Ely to him with a hug and a deep kiss on the lips. Cassandra and Philo watched smilingly.

Needless to say, that afternoon and evening and night were filled with banquets of rich food and drink served by almost naked, young servants and slaves. Music filled the grand hall and the patio outside. Philo had arranged for an erotic show of naked boys and girls romping around on carpets in the middle of the main hall. There was also a lot of sex, particularly for Ely and Darius and for Philo and Cassandra. Philo’s bed time with Cassandra was more intense than ever before, since he hungered for a woman’s body after spending most of his time having sex with Ely.

“Was all that necessary?” Ely asked Philo the next morning, as the two lads found some time alone, sitting on the veranda overlooking the azure blue sea.

“What?” Philo asked, awakened from his thoughts.

“The banquets and the show yesterday, Philo: Was that necessary?” Ely repeated.

“Yes, it was,” Philo answered. “I am grateful for Cassandra and Karelius. Without them, this would never have happened, as you well know.”

“Oh, I’m grateful, too. But it felt as if we were turning into those decadent Roman nobles.”

Philo laughed. “You love the decadence, though. You almost melted at the sight of the Roman young man. Darius is totally stricken by you. Have you set a date for the wedding ceremony yet?” he teased.

“Oh, fuck you, Philo. You’re making fun that we love each other? Look at you, giving it to Lady Cassandra who is as old as your mother.”

Philo clenched his hands, contemplating what his friend said. It was true. He had to remember that he was actually a goatherd from the Levantine mountains and she was a Roman noble woman. He should always remember that. And he should always strive to find a way of getting back to his home somehow. He gazed dreamily out into the far horizon, the other end of which being the sandy beaches of Byblos and the pine and cedar forests of Mount Lebanon. He could almost smell them and his skin was covered with goose bumps.

Darius walked out onto the veranda and crouched next to Ely, kissing his neck. Ely stretched happily. It was going to be a very exciting time. Ely wished that Philo would stop thinking about his home. He rubbed Darius’s inner thigh absently as he thought back to the time when his own family kicked him out, abused him, exiled him. He heaved, feeling the pain in his heart. His body shivered as he felt Darius’s groping hand rubbing his crotch. It was amazing how he had changed from a sissy boy to a fucking stud, with Darius thrashing under his thrusts. He erected.

“There are many empty and comfortable rooms in this villa, you know,” Philo smiled at the two lovers. “Go have some privacy.”

“Since when have you turned so prissy?” Ely teased.

Philo laughed. “You are making me horny.”

Darius gazed at Philo and in a low voice he mumbled, blushing: “You can join.”

Philo and Ely stared at the Roman. Then without uttering a word, the three young men hastily strode into the villa, looking for a room. The sex was incredible. Philo the top, fucked; Darius the bottom, was fucked; and Ely the sissy-turned-stud, fucked and was fucked. It was a chain of cock in ass, three virile men linked together in lustful moaning and thrashing.

“Upon the permission of my Lady Cassandra, our Lady Cassandra,” Philo said in a loud voice at the crowd gathered in the main hall that afternoon, “I will announce the following.”

There was silence in the hall as all the slaves who served and labored gathered with their families upon the orders of Philo.

He stood up on a dais, majestic in his simple but expensive white tunic, as if he had been born and had always been a noble lord.

“All slaves in this household,” his voice rang and echoed in the stillness, “all slaves shall, from this day onward, be free.”

A mumble arose from the crowd. Ely and Darius stared incredulously at the young imposing figure. Cassandra had a big smile on her face, since Philo had confided in her that he would need her permission, although he inherited the ownership of the slave, to set them free. Cassandra had understood Philo’s feelings and agreed.

“If,” Philo’s voice resounded regally in the hall, “any slave feels that he desires to leave, he is free to do so. If, however, a slave desires to stay, he and his family will stay as free citizens and serve the household for fair pay. All laborers in the vineyard and the fields will also receive their fair pay. Family members who work also will receive fair pay. This is a house of free people and the word slave shall never be spoken inside these walls.”

Most often, when a slave was freed in Rome, he would in turn become a master, and his treatment of his slaves would become even more severe than his old Roman masters. But not Philo. The Levantine hated the idea of one man enslaving another. If a man needs some work to be done, he ought either to do it himself or pay another man to do it for him. This was Philo’s credo and he swore to live by it.

A massive clamor reverberated inside the hall as the slaves and their families spoke and shouted and cried and wept and hugged each other. Some crawled to kiss Philo’s feet. Ely had tears running down his face. Philo stood frozen like a beautiful Greek statue, his heart pounding, his eyes shining, his muscles taut.

Darius leant towards Ely and whispered, “Isn’t this very risky? What about the slave rebellion and all?”

“You are thinking like the noble lord that you are, my love,” Ely whispered back. “You do not know what servitude is. It is Philo, who was made a slave and regained his freedom, that has a noble heart.”

Darius nodded although inside he shook with fear and concern.

Immediately after Philo’s words, the crowd dispersed but quickly returned with trays of food and drink. When they served, they did not kneel and bow. They were free citizens who were working for pay. There was jubilation all around. Even Cassandra’s sixteen litter-bearers gathered around her in protection and admiration.

Philo’s chamber was crowdedly shared that night: Cassandra, Ely and Darius. The freed slaves were celebrating with the servants and workers, toasting Philo and Lady Cassandra, their voices carrying over in the starlit summer evening, while Philo was pounding Cassandra’s pussy and Ely was pounding Darius’s ass, side by side on the same canopied bed. Philo and Ely kissed as they fucked. Darius and Cassandra kissed as they were fucked. Then the two lads, Philo and Ely, switched. Ely was fucking vagina for the first time, and Darius was stretched by Philo’s horse cock for the first time. It was a night to be remembered and cherished.

As the four soaked in a massive tub, with servants moving in and out replenishing the water, providing scented ointments and oils, and bringing in fruit and drink, Cassandra gazed at Philo’s face with a look of attachment and regret. This beautiful boy, who she had considered as an animal, a bull, existing to please her, was in fact a noble man.

“Do you really mean it, Philo?” she asked, her toes gently caressing his huge hanging balls in the water. “Are you seriously thinking of leaving Rome now that you are rich and free?”

“It’s because I’m rich and free, my lady,” Philo smiled, reaching down and massaging her foot, “that I desire to go home. This will also be home to me. But you understand.” He ran his hand up her thigh and onto her vaginal lips, tenderly rubbing and probing with his long agile fingers. Cassandra slid towards him, their lips meeting as she squatted on his crotch guiding his erection inside her. Ely was busy humping Darius. The four made love among the bustling servants and in the splashing water.

“But not for a while,” Philo said as he bit her ear and thrust up deep into her insides.

“Stay, my love,” Cassandra whispered, pleading, moaning, close to yet another huge and shuddering orgasm.

It took a few more months, well into the next year, for the Roman Legions to subdue the Spartacus slave rebellion. Thousands of crosses went up with naked slaves nailed to them all along the Appian Way. As the summer of the year 71 BC approached, Philo started to make plans.

Hiring a large vessel, with 80 oarsmen, and three large sails, Philo, Ely, Cassandra and Darius set sail from the Rome port south and east towards the shores of Phoenicia. Philo had to accept the fact that there were no free men to man the oars, only slaves, since such work demanded so much physical effort that a man set to the oars of a ship could not hope to last more than two years. Even so, Philo had decided that once he got to Byblos, he would give the ownership to the oarsmen and they would decide what to do with themselves.

It was midsummer and the ship’s captain estimated between three to four weeks for them to make land at Byblos port. Philo was dizzy with excitement. Ely and Darius were so much into each other that they didn’t care whether they were fucking in a villa or a vineyard or a boat.

Cassandra was silent and had fear in her heart, fear of losing what had become the only joy of her life, the only reason to live. It was true that she was rich enough to buy herself one hundred slave-studs, but no one could replace her Philo. Her son’s age, he was not normally considered an appropriate mate for her. Neither did he limit his sexual ventures to her. Hadn’t she watched him plow into Ely’s and Darius’s asses? Hadn’t she heard rumors about how he spent hours fucking girls his age and even younger?

It was true that Philo preferred having sex with women than with men, but Cassandra did notice how he felt towards the Israelite. Even his looks were filled with emotions of love. And with Darius, perhaps not actual love but definitely lust. Cassandra knew she wasn’t exclusive, but she accepted that as a fact of life, as long as she could have this incredible young man, now so gloriously standing on the top tier of the ship under the white sail, his curly hair blowing in the wind, his rippled chest bared, the sun in the west at his back as he gazed east towards his home.