Vignette #2

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Marius placed the last goblet on his silver tray in front of the guest sitting next to Clelia, the wife of the commander of the military base.  Marius was totally naked. He didn’t even have adornments like those of his companion female servers. Tonight this one displayed jewels hanging from her nipples and at the end of a chain around her hips. It rested between her legs just below her mound. Marius didn’t know her name. He had disciplined himself not to become acquainted with female slaves, ever since, in the first few weeks he was here, on two occasions young men from the village had been severely whipped in front of him, as punishment for his having allowed himself an erection without permission. Reliving that torture was enough to ward off any arousal.He was allowed to relieve himself sexually in the privacy of his cell. But “privacy” was not an accurate description. The braziers in the hallway were never all extinguished, and the guards appeared outside the barred wall randomly to watch him. He hadn’t had an orgasm şişli escort in many weeks.The village that was home to the young men was the reason Marius was a naked slave in the household of the barbarian commander. He had volunteered when the company he commanded had been defeated while trying to defend an outlying village. The Scots commander had offered the deal. Give him a strong, handsome, important man to be his slave and the village would be saved. Marius offered himself. During those two years stoicism had been his refuge.  He could only hope that someday the Scots would be defeated and he could go home. But best not to spend too much of himself on hope. It was not a hard life. They treated him like a pet. If he allowed it, he would have felt humiliation, but insofar as he allowed himself feelings, what he felt for his captors was mostly contempt for their decadent way of living.Clelia spoke to her neighbor. “Look at him. Isn’t he marvelous? We view these slaves as art. They are imbued with esthetic mecidiyeköy escort perfection. They spend hours each day in physical training. And watch this.” She motioned Marius to approach. She ran her fingers over the articulated muscles of his torso and thighs and then lightly stroked his sex, both the shaft and the testicles.  Marius slowed his breathing and cleared his mind to allow his body to do its work. And, indeed, his shaft rose to attention. Clelia preened. “That slave girl over there can’t make this happen.” The neighbor leaned over to stroke the erection appreciatively. “Alright, Marius. Take it down,” said Clelia.Marius went over to a shallow basin filled with water from a melting block of ice, brought down from the mountains. He filled a small pitcher and poured it on himself, “taking it down.” Then he resumed his position behind the commander’s chair.From this position he couldn’t help but watch the scene a few steps down from the dais.  At that level the rest of the assembly banqueted at round tables and watched as a prisoner of war was humiliated and tortured for their entertainment. This man was tied intricately and was being whipped with great skill, the whip reaching his exposed skin unerringly. This happened once or twice a week, and Marius was puzzled by his own reaction. He didn’t identify with the torturers, expressing rage at his situation, as one would expect. Instead he felt a warmth come over him at the idea of being tied and humiliated and tortured. Perhaps he was hoping to be killed? No. He had no wish to die, even though his days were unbearably tedious. But every time one of these scenes was presented he became more and more fascinated.“Marius, come here.” It was the commander. “Do you realize that today is your anniversary? You’ve been with us two years! And we’re very pleased with you!” He let the back of his hand drift down Marius’ midriff and over his genitals. Then patted his muscular buttock. “Is there anything you’d like as an anniversary present?” The commander took on a self satisfied air, like a family friend offering a choice of toys to a young child.Marius didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I’d like to go down there.” He gestured with his head at the scene below.

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