The Story of Philo

The two lads, Philo and Ely, were led into the servants’ quarters of Karelius Pantius’s villa on the outskirts of Rome. The villa was set from other residences by a large garden and shrub hedges all around. To the two village boys—now slaves—it looked like a king’s castle. Built on a rise overlooking the city, with colonnades and terraces, three fountains, statues, and paths, the structure was awesome, reflecting the political and economic status of it owner. The whole area was dotted with rich residences, but none as grand as the Pantius’s villa.

The place teemed with servants. Most of them were ordinary menial slaves, overseen by some six or seven more specialized slaves to manage the estate’s gardens, the kitchens, the cleaning, and the waiting on the nobleman’s family. Other slaves were specifically bought for other duties, such as two musicians, one head Greek slave who overlooked the polishing and shining, and the head chef who had been captured in the land of the Francs after the invasion of his land. It seemed that the villa was a village in itself. There were more people around than the whole of the inhabitants in Philo’s village in the Levant mountains, Teshret.

Ruled over all was the paterfamilias, or the father of the family, Karelius Pantius. He was the all-powerful male whose word was sacred, whose desires were orders, and whose anger was punishment. The familia was not just the father, mother and children, but it included all the others, the slaves, servants, laborers and their families. As senior senator Karelius was venerated by all the noblemen in Rome and his villa was often full of visitors. 

Of those who were often seen at the Pantius’s luxurious residence, and who enjoyed the rich banquets thrown periodically, were famous personalities such as the general Popmey the Great, the orator Cicero, Julius Caesar who later would become emperor, and the senator Lucius Licinius Lucullus, who was probably the wealthiest aristocrat in the history of Rome.

As a person, Karelius Pantius, unlike most other Roman lords and senators, was a benevolent person, even though he enjoyed certain fetishes. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, giving him an aura of authority. However, Karelius displayed bouts of anger that none of his familia could anticipate and when he did, all tried to disappear from his sight for fear of severe punishment.

To make sure that the order of the household was in top shape for the paterfamilias, a steward, who was a free citizen, which was unusual for a Roman senator to hire but Karelius preferred it this way, was in charge of all the daily chores and routines. In the Pantius household, this steward was a fifty-two-year old Greek called Master Thalpios. Thalpios was a stern steward, never smiling, never allowing any of the slaves to relax or have time off. He immediately checked out the two new slaves, directing them to the slaves’ quarters to be washed and cleaned and clothed as befitted the Pantius’s household.

It was later in the afternoon when Philo and Ely were called in to paterfamilias’s chambers. They stood in the middle of the large hall, which was furnished with fancy couches, the large windows covered by expensive brocaded curtains. On one of the couches reclined Karelius’s wife, Lady Cassandra.

Lady Cassandra was a little bit on the plump side, just passed her fortieth year, with long brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her face would be considered beautiful, had it not been for the heavy red paint on her cheeks and lips, and dark kohl around her eyes. She looked more like an Egyptian queen than a Roman noblewoman. Philo was able to take all this in at a glance before he lowered his eyes and stared at the marble-tiled floor. He felt that the lady of the house usually had her say in spite of the power displayed by her husband.

Both Karelius and Cassandra studied the two new slaves carefully, Cassandra showing an expression of appreciation and interest as her eyes wandered all over Philo’s face and body.

“Strip,” Karelius ordered.

By now Philo and Ely were past being humiliated by posing nude. Cassandra licked her full, painted lower lip as she gazed at the brawny physique of the young Levantine. Her gaze focused on Philo’s phallus, hanging over his large balls, comparing it to her husband’s. Philo’s cock looked humongous, even when flaccid. Her heart pounded with anticipation, and she felt quivering between her thighs as she imagined how it would look like when erected.

“Lord husband,” Cassandra murmured, her voice husky. “You have made a very shrewd purchase this time.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Karelius said, smiling, knowing exactly what his wife was lusting for, especially since he had also lusted after young Philo’s god-like beauty and huge equipment in spite of his preference for female company. His mind quickly flashed back to the strong squirts of sperm that hit him in the neck and chest when he was examining Philo back in the market. He raised Philo’s balls making the thick cock ride high and winked at his wife. “This is my gift to you.”

“What about the other one? Why in the name of Venus did you buy him?” Cassandra pouted as she gazed at Ely’s scrawny body.

“Oh,” Karelius laughed. “He was part of the deal.” He patted Ely on the butt with one hand and rubbed on Philo’s downy and firm ass lasciviously with the other as he smirked at his wife, proud of himself for finding and buying such a stud. He rubbed inside Philo’s crack lightly.

“But he doesn’t look like he could do hard labor or be an appropriate bed fellow,” she commented, glancing back with awe at Philo’s majestically raised rod and his hanging balls.

It was as if the two lads were just dumb animals, the way Karelius and Cassandra discussed them. Although neither of them knew Latin, Philo and Ely were both smart enough to pick up phrases and words that rendered them able to understand the gist of what was being said. In a way, the Lord and Mistress held their discussion exactly as the Roman noble people considered slaves: animals bought and sold, used and abused, dumb and beastly.

“Never mind that, dear. Magnemonus will find something for this one.”

Cassandra giggled. “I can see this ugly slave painted and decorated by Magnemonus. This steward of yours can make a cow look like the daughter of Venus. A prostitute ready for unimaginable pleasures. But he is a boy.”

“Magnemonus runs a special house for men who enjoy laying with sissy-boys. This slave looks like he could attract many horny men with his youth and sissy looks.”

Cassandra nodded, her eyes moving back to study Philo’s naked body, her heart beats quickening.

“Leave,” Karelius ordered the two boys, who were immediately led, naked, outside the chamber and back to the slaves’ quarters.

“Who the fuck is Magnemonus?” Ely whispered as they trod down one of the pillared halls followed by two guards.

One of the guards laughed. “You will soon find out, slave,” he said, poking Ely’s butt crack with the end of his whip. “I wouldn’t mind paying you a visit once Magnemonus is done with you. I bet you will make a great fuck.”

The other guard rubbed his crotch as he watched the bubble butt of the Levantine and the swishing walk of the Israelite. “I wouldn’t mind fucking both of these animals right now.”

Philo and Ely did not respond for fear of punishment, but they knew that no one would hurt them inside this house.

Magnemonus proved to be an unsavory creature, much the opposite of Karelius. He exuded slime. In comparison, Maleek the pirate was an angel. Karelius’s steward was short, pot-bellied, with bulbous eyes and overhanging thick eyebrows, with pouting red lips surrounded by bushy and scraggly moustache and beard, and to top it all, a completely bald head.

“This?” Magnemonus asked Karelius as he studied the naked Ely. “With due respect, my Lord, you want me to take on this bag of garbage and make it saleable?”

That afternoon, in the same chamber where Philo and Ely had been examined by Karelius and Cassandra, the two lads stood naked again, but in the presence of Magnemonus. Karelius Pantius laughed. As much as he loathed the idea of partnering with such a dubious character as Magnemonus, Karelius enjoyed the fruits of the brothel-master’s way of running his businesses.

Magnemonus ran a series of prostitute houses all over the city, especially along the piers at the harbor, where horny sailors disembarked from their long sea voyages with full pockets and bulging crotches, eagerly looking for a hole to stick their starving penises in. One of the establishments catered for those sailors and other men who enjoyed boys, sissy boys in particular. Karelius had thought about this the minute he laid eyes on Ely, and he knew that he could get his money’s worth by making Magnemonus take Ely on. The Israelite was circumcised, which was not very often seen in Rome, and thus, would bring in good money for those men who appreciated a cut penis and a willing mouth and butt.

“He will make many a horny man happy, don’t you think?” Karelius asked in derision, pointing at the circumcised penis.

Magnemonus scowled, slapped Ely’s butt, and finally nodded. “All right, Lord Karelius. I will try my best to make this piglet sexy enough for someone to fuck him. But if it doesn’t work out, Master, I’m sending him back. I don’t need a useless mouth to feed and take care of.”

In tears, Ely was led away. In tears, Philo saw his friend being roped and pulled out of the villa like a calf taken for slaughter.

“Oh, my husband,” Cassandra exclaimed the next morning as she nibbled on some grapes, wearing a sheer tunic showing her flabby naked body. “The slave you gave me, oh, oh.” She glowed, her face looking younger and healthier.

Karelius smiled relieved. “He’s good, eh?”

“Good? Good? Oh Karelius, I was taken to the clouds and back, over and over and over. I am still dizzy.”

“That good? Then I must take him back!” Karelius teased. “Was it his large phallus?”

“For one thing, yes!” Cassandra said dreamily, biting her lower lip, bringing back the image of the huge and thick cock and the hanging balls. “But it’s the power and strength of his thrusting, the continuous plunging, oh Karelius, the stamina, the hardness, the muscles. Oh husband, oh.” Cassandra felt wetness seeping out of her vagina as she reminisced about the night with Philo.

“My dear wife,” Karelius said. “I will then have him for one night for myself. Actually, you have made me want him right now.” He clapped his hands and ordered for Philo to be brought in.

Because of all the special treatment Philo was receiving, and because of the satisfaction of his mistress during the night when he serviced her for hours without getting tired, Philo walked into the room with his head held high and an expression of defiance on his young and handsome face. He was thinking that he had had it made and the violent scenes that he had viewed in the streets of Rome would never be applied to him.

That was why the young Levantine was in total shock when he felt the hard slap ring forcefully across his face cheek.

“Animal,” Karelius growled, uncharacteristically, his anger raised. “When you are in my presence, you keep your slave eyes down.” He followed this by another slap and motioned to one of the guards, who immediately stepped forward and roughly pushed Philo down onto his knees.

“Take him out,” Karelius said angrily, “and teach him how to be a slave.”

“Oh no, dear husband,” Cassandra pleaded. “Don’t spoil the lad. I will tame him.”

Karelius ignored his wife and nodded to the guard who pulled Philo out by the hair aided by another guard. In the yard, Philo was tied to a pole and stripped naked. The lashes on his back and butt and thighs came mercilessly. Ten lashes striped Philo’s beautiful and silky skin with red angry welts. Karelius watched from the balcony overlooking the yard and Cassandra fled to her quarters in sobs and tears.

“Leave him tied until the sun goes down,” he ordered his guards. Karelius knew that this slave had to be broken. The lashing would only hurt the physical body, but the slave had to be broken from the inside. His spirit had to be broken. Otherwise, Karelius would have brought a snake into his household. The slave demonstrated an unacceptable attitude of arrogance because his man-sized equipment had pleased Cassandra. This needed to be changed if Karelius desired to keep his control over his household. It wouldn’t do to have a cocky slave among the other slaves and servants.

“And then bring him up to my chamber.” He growled, calling his housemaster, Thalpios.

Karelius instructed Thalpios as they walked down the arcaded corridor, “Bring up the girdle and bit, also the rack, and have two of my brawniest gladiators be ready to follow my orders. I remember two of the slaves who had been soldiers and captured in the hills of upper Spain. They seem to be most appropriate for what I have in mind for the unruly slave.”

Philo, meanwhile, endured the torture as best he could. The sun did not hurt him much. After all, he was used to its heat when he herded the goats in the Levantine mountains. What he was not used to was physical abuse. His back and buttocks hurt as he sweated and the salty sweat got into the welts of the lashes burning them more. Still, he was able to grind his teeth and bear the pain. It was his insides that were boiling with both anger and humiliation at the injustice of it all. He hated Maleek with all his soul for bringing him into servitude. He could not bring himself to hate Karelius yet, however. When all was said and done, he was a slave and the paterfamilias had to establish his authority. His pride had earned him this punishment.

The evening brought Philo, dragged by the guards, into Karelius’s chambers. The senator was not specifically into boys sexually, although he fucked young boy-slave butts every now and then. Karelius had his young mistresses as well, and he enjoyed his sex with them, periodically having to do his duty to Cassandra, his wife, but not enjoying it very much. Yet when he looked at the naked youth sprawled on the floor, he knew that he had to put aside his own preferences and break the slave’s soul after the physical punishment.

Upon his orders, one guard held Philo’s head while the other guard fit the iron bit into Philo’s mouth, forcing the jaws to open wide, making it impossible for the lad to bite down. Pulling his head up by the hair, the guard raised Philo’s head as Karelius fished out his penis from under his tunic and shoved it into the open mouth. Philo groaned. How could this happen to him? A man penis between his lips! His eyes bulged as he felt the flaccid meat thrust deep onto the back of his mouth. He gagged but could not move.

Philo ached to be able to bite down on the abominable thing invading his mouth and bite it off and spit it to the dogs, but the bit held his jaws open as Karelius pumped himself into erection. The senator’s cock was not as big as Philo’s, but nevertheless it was bigger than most men in Rome and the senator was proud of it as he thrust the thick shaft deep, feeling it hit the back of the slave’s mouth.

Philo was being face-fucked, his head held forcefully by the guards, his neck muscles so taut as if they would be severed. With a grunt, and because of the beauty of the Levantine, Karelius shot his load down sooner than he usually did. Philo choked and tried to spit, but couldn’t. He had to swallow the repulsive man semen. Finally Karelius, spent, pulled out, wiping his dripping cock on Philo’s face, glaring down at him as if to tell him that this was a lesson he should learn, and learn well.

Cassandra and Thalpios watched their paterfamilias break the new slave. Karelius walked around the sprawled Philo, placing his hand inside the boy’s crack. He did not appreciate the fact that he did not really make the slave suck his dick, as a slave should do with gratitude to his master. He fingered Philo’s hole, bringing himself into another erection. When he had checked him back in the market place, Karelius was sure that this slave was virgin in the ass. Not for long, he thought.

Slowly, he took his cock out again, now hard, and stood between the spread thighs of the slave. With one huge thrusting heave, Karelius penetrated the open hole, forcing his thick cockhead to stretch the virgin rim muscle fiercely. Philo screamed.

The invading senator cock disappeared deep into the virgin hole as Philo heaved and screamed, to the consternation of Lady Cassandra. But the slave needed to know who was boss. Karelius had to set boundaries and teach lessons. However, it was not just breaking the slave since Karelius started to enjoy the extremely tight tunnel pressing on his cock shaft. His vicious thrusting caused further screaming, Philo’s voice going up in tone to resemble a sheep bleating as if caught in a rock fissure in the mountains. The senator never let up. He fucked until he emptied his second load inside Philo’s lower hole, establishing his power and territory.

He wiped his cock carelessly as the broken slave whimpered, his puckered hole bleeding and squeezing out semen.

“Bring in the gladiator slaves,” Karelius told one of the guards, as he tucked his penis under his tunic.

The two soldier-slaves entered. Karelius ordered them to strip. “Fuck him!” he said imperiously as he stood by, his hands behind his back. The slave needed all of this.

Philo remained stretched onto the rack on his belly, his two hands and feet sprawled wide apart and tied to the beams with leather straps. The two soldier-slaves were both muscled and military looking, still in their early twenties, and because of their constant rigorous daily exercising to prepare them as gladiators, their physique was not matched anywhere by other men in Rome.

“Use his mouth to erect,” Karelius instructed the first Spaniard. The Spanish soldier-slave was hung, not as big as Philo, but reaching a thick 25 centimeters in length. He knelt under Philo’s head and thrust his flaccid penis up inside Philo’s force-opened mouth with the iron bit. He pumped to erect as the other Spaniard pulled Philo’s head back by the hair.

Then, upon Karelius’s orders, the Spaniard moved between Philo’s spread thighs and used his spit to moisten Philo’s rim muscle even though the lad’s hole had already been greased by Karelius’s semen. His violent penetration of the puckered hole drew Philo’s next set of screams of pain, not only because of his virgin hole being invaded but also because of the extreme soreness of his weakened ass muscle. The soldier-slave thrust mercilessly, burying his thick man cock inside the sprawled and defenseless lad. Philo felt is if he were split in half. The pain was intolerable. But with him tied to the rack, the boy had no way of avoiding the constant thrusting into his raped body.

After what it seemed like an eternity to Philo, he felt a thick warm stream of cum squirt inside him. He desperately wanted to get loose, his body aching in every stretched muscle, his mouth dry but tasting of cum, his ass on fire. He wanted to scream some more. He wanted to curse the gods. He wanted to… tears flowed down his cheeks, his nose clogged with snot.

But Karelius wasn’t finished with him yet. Philo jerked and screamed even louder when the second Spaniard shoved his erected cock into the already sore and bleeding hole. Philo was raped again. As the second soldier-slave was reaching his orgasm, Philo’s mind finally shut down. His only mantra was: it’s only lashes; it’s only pain; I am strong; I am not fucked. He kept repeating this mantra over and over as the Spaniard thrust and rammed, pounding the young virgin ass and filling it with his ejaculation, mixed with sweat and blood.

Philo was left tied to the rack, his ass seeping pink and bloody sperm, his head bent down, saliva dripping from his mouth, snot from his nose, tears from his eyes, almost unconscious.

Now that the pain was receding, Philo thought to himself, as if hearing his sarcastic friend, Ely, in his mind: Welcome to the world of servitude.

It took the proud Levantine one whole week to recuperate from his physical wounds. Cassandra applied salves and creams on his welts and his bleeding ass hole. But his soul wounds were never to be healed. He could accept the fact of having been forcefully made to suck cock or to get fucked in the ass. After all, he was defenseless. But he took it out on Cassandra. He fucked her viciously, trying to re-establish his manhood. His ass hurt. But more so was the pain of servitude.

Karelius was satisfied with the initiation of Philo, breaking the lad the way he had, marking both his mouth and his ass with his manhood. That was why, he was more than happy to agree for Philo to become his wife’s pet-slave, which would get her off his back so he could carouse with his various mistresses and other boys. However, Karelius made sure to give his strict orders to Master Thalpios to keep his eyes wide open in watching the Levantine’s behavior and attitude. At the slightest sign of rebellion or dissatisfaction, Karelius decided that the lad would be put into chains and sent to one of his many quarries for hard labor. Even though Thalpios did not look kindly on the boy, Philo made sure that none of his inner bitterness and humiliation showed on his face or body movements.

Cassandra was also completely pleased with the hung boy, who was able to take her to sexual heights she had never experienced before. She had had young slaves in her bed, but no one matched the Levantine, whether in girth or in stamina.

However, for Philo, his fucking was a duty, an obligation, just like herding sheep in the pine forests in the Levant mountains. His youth and vigor, his huge cock, his muscled and toned body, his handsome facial features, all worked to please Cassandra in her middle age. She pampered Philo as much as she could whenever Thalpios was not spying. He bathed her, massaged her, rubbed scented oils on her sagging body, teased her nipples and vagina, and then fucked her, almost continuously. His fucking was much more manly than her other slave fuckers, disguising the fact that he was only a lad of sixteen years.

It was some two months later when Philo was lying naked, covered with sweat, his cock lying on his belly shining with sperm and with Cassandra’s juices, that the boy attempted to be forward. He placed his hand on one of his mistress’s big and sagging breasts, pinching the hardened nipple teasingly, and whispered: “My lady, what is it like in the brothels in Rome?”

Cassandra was taken aback by this unexpected question. Her heart beat fast. Was her pet-slave thinking of offering his services to others? She pulled herself up to a seated position and gazed at Philo’s upturned beautiful face and his glistening naked body, biting her lower lip, her body shaking with Philo’s tit-teasing, her inner thighs flooded with her juices.

“Why do you ask this, boy?” she whispered back, fear and lust mixed in her tone.

Philo reached down between Cassandra’s thighs and found her vagina lips, his middle finger touching her wet clitoris. He rubbed it lightly as Cassandra wriggled and moaned.

“My friend, who was kidnapped by the pirates with me? He was taken to a male brothel. I was wondering how he is being treated there.” He nibbled on Cassandra’s ear. “He is kept in one of the brothels that Master Karelius owns,” he added in a whisper, starting to finger-fuck the twitching vagina with his middle finger as his thumb worked her clitoris.

“Oh,” Cassandra groaned as Philo rubbed faster and moved his teeth down onto her hardened tit. She felt her juices build up again inside her pussy, and she quickly reached over the naked lad to stroke his erecting cock. “The sissy boy! I will ask Magnemonus. Oh. Yes. My boy, yes, yes,” she thrashed deliriously, her body racked with her lustful desire as she reached her orgasm, flooding Philo’s fingers and hand and dripping onto the silken sheets under them.

Philo smiled inwardly, and rolling on top of Cassandra, he entered her welcoming wet vagina, already flooded with her orgasming juice. “Thank you my lady,” he said as his thick rod stretched her vaginal lips, and thrust deep into the sprawled woman under him, fucking her, bringing her to further violent orgasms, as she writhed and wriggled under him and gripped his rippling butt cheeks with both hands in ecstasy, drawing his ejaculating man-cock deeper into her.

“But, my dear wife,” Karelius told Cassandra, when she mentioned Philo’s inquiry about Ely, a few days later. “You mustn’t be taken by a slave. They are animals that we purchase for our gratification. Haven’t the slave from the Levant been gratifying to you?” he added with a sly smile.

“Need you ask?” Cassandra said, her eyes glittering, her triangle between her thighs twitching. “Hasn’t he been filling some kind of gap, dear husband?”

Karelius felt the jibe. He desired peace within his household, and keeping Cassandra satiated and happy would ensure that peace.

“Fine,” he finally gave in. “Tell the slave that he can go down to the brothel but under guard. I will have the Spaniard soldier-slaves who fucked him to accompany him. He will be fearful of them. But only for this one time. I will not have slaves going back and forth from brothels to my house.”

Cassandra smiled and pecked Karelius’s cheek, her vagina moistening at the thought of bringing this news to Philo and the gratification the beautiful slave would grant her.

Philo was filled with such a joy that he had missed throughout his kidnapping and captivity. His heart soared. He did not realize how much he missed the Israelite and how much he wanted to see him, to kiss him and hold him tight. The Levantine’s performance with Cassandra after giving her a bath and a massage was an item for songs and legends. No woman in Rome was fucked as Philo fucked his mistress that night and into the morning.