In another post I made reference to this story and began thinking that others might enjoy it. It is not my work (it’s much better…
) what follows are excerpts of my “favorite“ parts. The entire story can be found on the Internet. It’s titled “A Roman Experience” by “Prisoner.” While some might consider this more of a “gay” story, I found the description of the young blonde slave quite appealing. A fit, tan, long haired blue eyed blonde, with a “beautiful,” “feminine” face, smooth body and large cock? And who is clearly submissive? Shit, I’d fuck him in an instant!
Of course the boys "owner," Marcus, is a former "gladiator" who won his freedom in the arena (if you know me, you'd know I think stuff like that is awesome...). Anyway, hope you like it.
The slaves, having removed the serving tables, were now erecting an X shaped cross where the tables had been. I don't know about the other guests, but at this sight, my own heart began to pound with excitement and now two more came marching out from behind one of the hedges. They held the blonde between them. He was still naked, but his ankles and legs had been unbound, and his wrists were tied in front of him. The slaves marched him over to the cross, untied his wrists and then pulling up on his arms, secured each wrist to one of the uprights of the cross. Once his wrists had been secured, they pulled his legs apart, causing his penis and balls to hang free between his legs, and bound his ankles to the lower parts of the cross. They then stepped away, leaving him spread-eagled.
I now had a chance to really look at the boy. He was powerfully built. His arms and legs were thickly muscled. Because of his bondage, they were straining beneath his skin. His face was almost feminine in it's beauty, his flaxen hair hung limply over his forehead, matched by thick flaxen eyelashes. His cheeks were touched with a hint of rose, indicating his youth. His eyes were the most startling blue color. They were a deep, sapphire blue, the color of deep pools of water. His neck, was not overly thick, but symmetrical, leading to broad, well muscled shoulders that were also straining with the pressure of the bindings. His chest was completely smooth, and lightly browned, indicating many hours spent in the sun. His nipples were the size of coins, and dusky rose in hue. His abdomen was rippled with muscle. As my eyes reached the platinum bush at his groin, I let out an involuntary gasp. Even limp, his cock was huge. His balls were also large, and hung pendulously in their sack, swinging slightly.
"Here is my wager," Marcus began to explain, "I will double the money you lost, or double the money you won. " the guests shouted and cheered, making it difficult to hear what Marcus was saying. He stopped talking and smiled, and motioned for the guests to quiet themselves. "Please, please?" he asked, "let me finish my wager." The shouting slowly died down. "As I said," he continued, "I will double the amount of your wagers if" he paused for effect, and the silence was complete, as each diner waited for the conditions of the wager. "if, you can cause this boy to cum" he indicated the bound blonde, "through torture," he finished. There was a momentary silence as he finished, to be replaced in a split second with roars of approval.
"Wait, wait," he continued, motioning us to be quiet once again, "there are conditions." He stopped again, and we remained silent. "Each of you must make the boy cum, using whatever means of torture you choose," he indicated towards the youth again and we looked to see his major domo setting up a table of implements. "But, you must leave no lasting marks, and you may not stroke or in any way massage his penis. He must cum from the torture itself," he finished.
"Very well, very well, who will be first?" he asked simply. I took a sip of wine, wondering whether or not Marcus was playing us the fool. There were eight of us. Surely this boy could not be made to come 8 times, no matter the stimulation. But, we were all pretty well in our cups by this time, and I was prepared to meet the challenge, and from the sounds of the others, they too were going to rise to the occasion. "I think you were the first to claim the wager, Tarques," he spoke to a Roman military officer seated half way round the circle. I did not know him, and looked with renewed interest in the possible tortures he might conjure up for our blonde victim. He stood up and walked directly toward the youth. He was not unsteady. Either he had not been drinking as much as the rest of us, or he was able to hold his wine much better.
Reaching the youth, he raised both his arms and took the boy's nipples in his fingers and began to twist and pinch them. "Hssssh," the boy hissed between clenched teeth. "Are you going to twist his nipples off?" I heard one of the diner’s question. "Yes, yes, twist off his nipples," a chant began from the diners. He released the boy's tits and turned towards us with a smile. “Now, what do you take me for, an amateur," he asked with mock disdain. The diners laughed at this retort and became silent, waiting with mounting excitement at what was to come.
"I have served in Rome's legions all over the empire," he started to lecture, "I have seen all manner of tortures, some that we inflicted on the barbarians to make them docile, and some they inflicted on themselves and on our troops as punishment," he continued speaking. "But, the race that has developed torture to a high art are the Persians, and..." he paused, like Marcus, for effect. "It is a Persian torment that I will visit on this lad to win my wager." He spoke with a booming voice and turned to look up at his victim. The boy merely sighed deeply and lay his head back once again on the cross.
First Tarques picked up a small whip, and we thought that he intended to whip the youth. Certainly a painful torment, but not really that unusual. But, instead, he took the handle of the whip and inserted it up the boy's rectum, and slowly he began to fuck the boy with the handle.
"Uhhhh," the youth moaned as he moved his head from side to side. His cock, however, soon responded to the pressure on his prostate, and began to harden. As soon as the cock had grown to its full length, Tarques withdrew the whip handle and tossed it aside. Then, holding onto the base of the boy's cock, with cock and balls held tightly by his right hand, he reached into his tunic and pulled out a long ivory rod. He turned to face us, holding the rod up with his left hand. "Watch closely my friends, at this Persian delight," he spoke huskily, his own excitement obviously growing.
He turned and then, slowly, ever so slowly, he began to insert the rod into the end of the boy's penis. "No, aaaaah, uggggh, hsssssh!!" the boy began immediately to scream as the probe pushed its way into his cock. When Tarques had inserted the rod several inches, he stopped and began to withdraw it. "Aaaaaaaah!!" the youth screamed even louder. Slowly Tarques pushed it back in, then pulled it out, and pushed it in again, methodically fucking the boys cock with the rod. The boy continued to scream, as he pulled fruitlessly at his restraints. He could not move his cock away, for Tarques held it tight with his right hand.
"Ah, aaah, aaaaah, aaaaaaaaaaah!!" the screams grew louder. Then the youth shuddered. Tarques stepped aside and held up the cock and rod for all to see as cum oozed out around the base of the rod and down the youth's cock-shaft. Tarques pulled out the rod, and a thick wad of cum shot up and spattered his tunic. "There Marcus," the soldier continued, wiping the rod off with a napkin and reinserting it into his tunic. "A Persian delight for your guests, and a wager won for me."