"Babylon
Part 2
by Beryll
Even under the best of circumstances Alexander would have had trouble simultaneously balancing the various parcels, bags and the big wine amphora on top he was laden with and not lose the hideous red and yellow striped robe of his aunt in the throng of Babylon's biggest marketplace in the busiest hours of the morning.
And he was definitely not in the best condition with his eyes constantly threatening to drift shut from exhaustion. He had made it back to his uncle's house about an hour after dawn, quietly slipping inside and curling up on his pallet in the attic. The other boys he shared the room with had all already been asleep. And even though he was tired he had still been tossing and turning when his uncle had showed up merely an hour later to kick him awake.
If there was one thing that did convince him that he was indeed somehow related to Cletus it was the fact that he was treated worse than any of the other boys. They were just expected to whore and keep their mouths shut. He was always the one pressed into service when his aunt or uncle needed a helping hand with something.
Like today where they basically needed a pack mule.
Alexander had no idea how his aunt had managed to force Cletus to accompany her on her shopping trip but their constant arguing all morning was a good sign that he was not here off his free will.
Those who had never met Alexander's aunt often wondered why Cletus did not sell her in the street like he did with all his other boys and girls. As soon as they met her their question was answered. There simply was no way anybody would pay even the smallest coin for a woman as plain and mean as Stateira. The natural follow up question then was why Cletus had married her in the first place and there was no easy answer to that. Alexander's pet theory was that he had only married her, because he was a suspicious bastard and she was the only woman available at the time he could be sure would neither leave nor betray him. After all she had nowhere else to go.
Whatever the reasons there might be - fact of the moment was that they were both in an especially foul mood and definitely not willing to wait for their exhausted nephew.
Hoping fervently that Stateira had finally spent enough of her husband's money and that they would head home soon, Alexander dodged a dirty child crossing his path at top speed. Just as he had expected there were a fat woman and a member of the city guard hot on the young thief's heels, shouting angry curses. Alexander waited till they had passed as well and then tried to make out where his aunt and uncle had gotten to, balancing his precarious load.
He caught a glimpse of Stateira's robe a few stalls ahead and silently thanked the gods for her lack of taste in clothing. He was just taking the first step to close the distance between them, when someone bumped into him from behind violently.
For a small moment Alexander managed to keep his balance but than he tumbled to the ground together with the stranger, both of them getting buried under a heap of wares and then showered by the wine from the broken amphora.
Alexander shoved against the man who had landed on top of him, showering the clumsy idiot with some choice curses as well. But suddenly there were men around him, helping the stranger to his feet, fawning over him like he was some precious noble, while a huge guy who looked like a bodyguard grabbed Alexander by the neck and nearly lifted him off the ground, pulling him up.
Alexander quickly shut his mouth. One glance at the man who had run into him, showed him exactly what he had feared to find: fine robes, jewelry, an entourage - this really WAS a noble. Probably even a foreign one by the strange cut of his clothing and his exotic looks. And he didn't look happy at all the mess.
"You little rat!" the man still holding Alexander by the neck barked. "Has no one told you to get out of the way of your betters? Look at what you have done to Lord Cassander!"
If I had seen him, I'd certainly had gotten out of the way, Alexander thought but knew that there was no use arguing. Still he couldn't fight his natural reaction of trying to squirm out of the man's grasp. That only resulted in being lifted off the ground and shaken like he was no more than a kitten.
"I'm sorry!" he quickly whimpered.
The noble hissed at his servants fussing over him and angrily turned to Alexander now. "Who is your master, you insolent brat?!" he demanded, obviously assuming that Alexander was a slave. Which - apart from his legal status - wasn't that far from the truth.
Alexander would have expected his uncle to make a quick escape so he was quite surprised when Cletus waded into the mess to shout at Alexander as well. Obviously his anger over losing all the money he had just spent for his wife's shopping lust outweighed his sense of survival.
"Useless little bastard!" There was no way Alexander could dug the hard slap of his uncle, still caught in the grasp of the huge guard. Again he started to struggle, panic now drowning his last bits of calm.
"Is that yours?!" the noble addressed Cletus, pointing at Alexander.
For a moment both men stared at one another in an almost comical display of rage barely held in check. Then Cletus seemed to realized who exactly he faced and after a quick glance around showed him that his route of escape was blocked by the noble's servants did the most sensible thing - he threw himself to the ground.
"Mercy, great lord!" he started whining.
"Mercy?! Have you seen what the brat has done to my robes?!" the noble hissed, stepping closer to Cletus, looking like he was seriously going to kill the groveling man.
"Forgiveness, my lord!" Cletus kept pleading. "He is an insolent brat, you are so right, master." Then he glanced up at the noble, a sly smile on his lips. "But he's also a pretty faced slut, if my lord cares to look."
That calmed the noble considerably and some part of Alexander that was watching calmly wondered how his uncle managed to always recognize a potential customer. The rest of his was desperately pleading with the gods. Not this, he prayed, as the noble stepped closer and the guard changed his grip on Alexander, holding his arms on his back with one large hand and holding his head still by the hair so the noble could get a good look.
There was a cool glint in the noble's eyes that Alexander knew. This was the kind of customer he avoided at all costs. Those who took their pleasure from hurting others. The noble reached out and slowly trailed one finger down Alexander's cheek, a smile spreading on his lips. Obviously he liked what he saw.
He turned back to Cletus. "You are right, man, he has a pretty face."
"He's all yours." Cletus replied eagerly.
Alexander could hardly believe his ears. He knew full well his uncle was a hard man but still he wouldn't have thought that Cletus would just give him away like that. Even though he had never felt close to his aunt or uncle he now felt tears prick his eyes. They were the only kind of family he had ever known.
"Agreed." The noble said, waving Cletus away, his
attention already returning to Alexander. "You are lucky, boy,"
he said, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "I will not only teach you
some manners, you will also have the honor of serving my amusement."
--
To see the legendary splendor of the palace from the inside was a dream every street whore Alexander had ever met harbored. To be picked by some rich, generous patron, to be heaped with presents, bathed in milk and honey, treated like a prince. Those were the dreams of boys and girls who knew nothing but poverty and brutality. The palace to them was a distant dream.
Even Alexander had shared that dream sometimes, watching when some noble procession passed through the city, wondering what it would be like to be part of that life.
Now he was and it was nothing like he had imagined. In his fantasies there had been no hard hand dragging him along by the neck, rushing him past all the glorious luxury to a fate he knew all too well. Nothing had changed for the better. In fact, everything was much worse.
In a matter of a few moments any freedom he had ever had had been stripped from him. A few words had turned him from a whore into a slave. The mere thought still had him reeling. He just couldn't believe that Cletus had done this to him, had discarded him like a broken toy. Never before had he felt as keenly how worthless and insignificant he truly was.
He was roughly yanked from these thoughts as the guard dragging him along propelled him forward through an arched doorway. Instinct took over and he rolled with the momentum and automatically curled into a ball, prepared to be kicked.
But he was only addressed coldly by the noble. "Kneel for me, pretty boy!"
Alexander was used to obeying to buy time, to appearing meek and pliant. But the key word was 'appearing'. How ever bad his customers might have been - he had always known that they were just that - customers. That he would spend a disgusting few hours or at most a couple of days and then go home again. Being a whore in many was pretending to be a slave. Being a slave in earnest was something entirely different. There was no going home. This was his life now.
And for some reason that made it so much harder so be a good little whore.
Of course there was no point in fighting so Alexander quickly got to his knees, keeping his head down, trying to concentrate on the beautifully inlaid pattern of the mosaic floor underneath him instead of the shadow of the lord who now was his master looming above him.
"Considering the filth you come from you're a surprisingly pretty thing." the noble drawled, nudging Alexander with a sandal clad foot.
The sandals straps looked like genuine gold, Alexander noted absentmindedly. If the noble had been a customer he would now have wondered how to take those sandals with him unnoticed when he left. But there was no leaving.
"I would have you washed," the noble continued, "but what's the use when I intend to thoroughly soil you anyway?"
The guards that had accompanied the noble the whole time laughed merrily at the crude joke and something told Alexander that they were not only there to watch that he wouldn't make trouble. They would probably be part of the show.
"Show us what you have, pretty boy!" the noble commanded.
Still keeping his eyes to the floor Alexander pulled his tunic over his head. He wasn't wearing anything else. The hooting of the guards told him that his assessment of the situation had sadly been correct. It would be a long morning.
His head was pulled up by the hair and he found himself presented with the crotch of his new master.
"And now show us how you worship your master, slave!" the noble sneered.
Again Alexander obeyed without hesitation. There was no point in fighting; he told himself again, nothing to be gained. He sucked on the rapidly hardening cock and quickly swallowed it when it was at full attention.
The noble shuddered and then snickered with satisfaction. "Such a good little slut..." he muttered almost tenderly.
Alexander tried to block out his voice as well as his smell, the feel of the cock thrusting inside his mouth and into his throat. Try to make it quick, he told himself, his throat constricting around the invading cock as he swallowed again, knowing perfectly well what would drive the man wild.
He was not disappointed as hands gripped his hair firmly, holding him in place, the cock moving faster, thrusting into him hard and carelessly. Only a few minutes pasted before the noble buried himself fully, Alexander's face pressed firmly into his crotch, his throat filled with cock, cutting of all air.
Alexander knew better then to struggle as hot semen spilled deep inside him, the noble's fingers tearing at his hair as he tried to somehow yank his new toy even closer, to force more of himself into the unresisting boy.
Panting happily he kept still while Alexander felt familiar panic rise, his chest growing tighter and tighter with the desperate need for air. He knew struggling was futile, had been in this position often enough to have learned there was no getting away until the man above him decided to let go. But his body still refused to learn the lesson, his heart beating faster and faster, as he started to see bright blotches of color behind his tightly closed eyes.
Just a little longer, he prayed fervently. A little longer and bright colors would change to choking darkness and then to nothing when he lost consciousness. Then they could do with him what they pleased. He'd only have to deal with the soreness when he woke up again.
But his prayers went unheard as the noble let go of his hair, pushing him back and Alexander's traitorous body gulped in air. Kneeling on the ground in front of the noble, he tried to breathe and cough at once as his throat protested the rough treatment.
"What a tasty appetizer." the Lord commented, that cruel amusement in his voice again that made Alexander shiver.
Again he tried to concentrate on the mosaic of the floor. Soft blue and green, depicting the sea, he realized. Seaweed and fishes endlessly woven around themselves. Beautiful. Meaningless. Just like himself.
The noble moved away and Alexander could hear the rustling of his robes as he sat down on some close by divan.
"Amuse me!" he then commanded, now addressing the guards more than Alexander. "Open him up for me so I won't scrap my tool. But make sure he is still tight when I take him!"
Alexander just had the time to draw in another breath, to close his eyes and lock away his conscious thought into that tiny room where nothing could touch him before they were over upon him like a pack of hungry lions.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 3