The Traitor's Son Chapter 32
By Zelamir, adapted by Pueros

This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY

Chapter XXXII

As Felix happily watched, the relative quiet in the dining room was broken by the rich urgent hiss of the cane, as the cruel implement swung through the air for the first time on this evening. The sharp crack of wood striking young bare flesh was also followed by a moment's unearthly silence, whilst Marius' lungs fought for air, all breath having been driven from his beautiful body by the acute agony.

Marius had never previously been caned. This first experience of such punishment was, to his immensely distressed and pained mind, even worse that he had anticipated.

His lungs having eventually achieved their objective, Marius screamed, whilst sounding like a little wounded animal with his shrill howl akin to that of some small poor beast in extremis. Some of Scyrax's happy guests compared the boy's agonised shriek to that of hare or rabbit, whose hind legs had been caught and shattered by a trap.

Amber fluid subsequently began to flood down Dictys' back, bottom and legs. Marius had shamefully urinated in frightened acknowledgement of the fact that his cruel hurtful caning had truly begun.

Even from his distant perspective, Felix could see the little pool of urine forming around Dictys' feet. The secretary duly noted this indiscretion by Marius on his clay tablet, which was already full of the day's supposed misdemeanours allegedly perpetrated by his master's young slaves, including the errors of the boys serving dinner.

Felix naturally hoped that Marius' inadvertent emptying of his bladder might earn him further punishment at Scyrax's evening audience with his young slaves on the next day. However, the secretary was prepared to accept that the boy's bottom would be too damaged and sore for the return of the cane. He was therefore prepared to recommend that, as with Giton, juvenile feet should instead be the target.

Many people find laying the strokes of a cane or similar implement across the bottom of a boy with complete accuracy surprisingly difficult. The rod, whilst travelling through the air, creates some peculiar aerodynamic effects that might cause it, when wielded by an inexpert hand, to stray from its intended path. Alternatively, the excitement and emotional intensity of the moment can disturb steadiness, perhaps by attempting to hit with too much zeal. The young victim himself, even if firmly held or tied, also rarely remains completely still. He generally clenches his buttocks in anticipation of the impending cut, after receipt of which he usually writhes and twists under the impact, often jerking convulsively, as the instrument bites agonisingly into his flesh.

Consequently, a cool head, skill and some luck are generally required to place the strokes inflicted by a cane exactly where intended. Despite his own personal past experience, Maccius initially encountered a difficulty with his accuracy on this occasion. The youth was aiming, as Scyrax had advised him, to lay ten stripes evenly across Marius' bottom, before inflicting another couple on the very tender crease where the boy's buttocks ended and his thighs began.

The initial stroke was fine, hitting the upper part of Marius' taught buttocks, scoring a white line that quickly darkened to a deep red edged with purple and eventually earning a lovely scream from the young victim. However, the second hit, aimed slightly below, was too high and basically replicated the first, which not only further deepened the hue of the created stripe but also drew some blood.

Such inaccuracy disturbed Scyrax, who had retired to his couch to watch his beloved Maccius cane Marius. The fat man therefore requested, above the young victim's loud screams, sobs and fruitless entreaties, "My dear boy, please try to avoid hitting the same place twice, as I want the brat to be saleable in a week's time!"

Maccius did not like to be publicly reprimanded about his lack of accuracy but he only exhibited his annoyance in his facial expression and tone of voice when he responded by falsely saying "It was the brat's fault because he moved!" Marius had indeed initially squirmed in agony under the impact of the first hit but his body was soon again compliantly motionless and ready to receive the second blow.

"Well, Maccius," Scyrax replied, "please try to take into account the brat's rather natural writhing in reaction to your strikes." "I shall," the youth responded, whilst for a change speaking truthfully, as he did not want the opportunity of caning Marius twelve times to be taken away from him.

Maccius was subsequently unusually as good as his word, despite plying the cane with all his sadistic vigour, whilst poor Marius howled and twisted under each vicious impact. The youth was spurred on by the boy's reaction, revelling in the clear symptoms of his young victim's extreme excruciation, namely the shrieking and writhing, and the obvious damage he was causing.

The bulge at the front of Maccius' rich tunic was testament to his enjoyment. The hardness of the youth's cock was also matched on many of the couches around him, not least that of Scyrax, and more shamefully within the thongs of many serving boys.

The cane, being very malleable, regularly curled round the flanks of Marius' buttocks, with the tip occasionally nicking the boy's flesh there, sometimes drawing more drops of blood. The cute hollows at the sides of the young victim's bottom were consequently subsequently additionally notable for liquid sanguine stripes.

As Marius endured his beating, his acutely anguished mind appeared gradually to shift defensively to another dimension. He felt the extreme excruciation caused by each now carefully delivered blow from Maccius' cane but somehow his mental functions became more detached from the consequences. As a result, by the time that the youth struck his last two hits on the crease between the boy's bottom and thighs, the 11 year-old's reaction had become rather mild, being essentially just muted grunts and a slight twitching of his battered body.

The experienced Scyrax had realised at the very beginning that, for a first beating of a boy just 11 years old, twelve strokes of the cane was too much, and not just for the purpose of having him ready to be sold in a week's time. The fat man also recognised that the hurt from the rod would only be fully appreciated mentally for about eight hits, which was why he had originally recommended that number. However, he had meekly decided to allow Maccius' desire for a longer flogging because he wanted later for starters to suck the youth's cock, which would be made nicely more rampant by being granted his wish.

At last the beating was over but alas not Marius' sufferings. Having finally delivered the permitted twelve strokes of the cane, Maccius manually as well as visually inspected his cruel handiwork, somehow refreshing the boy's senses in the process, causing him to yelp in pain, as fingers touched the wheals on his ravished bottom.

Scyrax scrambled with his usual difficulty off his couch to join Maccius. "You've done a good job on the brat's bum," the fat man subsequently remarked to the youth's satisfaction, as he too inspected Marius' bruised and bloody bottom and whilst earning a similar loud pained reaction from the boy.

Scyrax then addressed Dictys, who had somehow managed to keep Marius steadily in place throughout the boy's flogging despite his own physical and mental distress. The former arose from the fatigue generated by attempting to hold a screaming and writhing 11 year-old on his back for a prolonged period and the latter emanated from his deep sympathy and sorrow for the child.

"Dictys, take our little Mariullus round the dining room," Scyrax ordered, "so that our guests can see what a slave brat's bum should look like after a thrashing!" Consequently, still hoisted on the older slave's back, the beaten boy was taken from couch to couch.

All the guests were clearly excited by the spectacle of Marius' bruised and bleeding bottom. Some even attempted to kiss the curves better, pressing their lips to the damaged skin. Others, less kindly, slapped and pinched the ravished buttocks, realising fresh howls from the boy.

Only after a full circle of the dining room had been completed was Marius permitted finally to dismount from Dictys' back. There was a sucking sound, as the boy slipped to the ground, caused by the breaking of the seal between two bodies that had been created by sweat and urine.

Marius, whose own small cock now proved to be flaccid, subsequently stood for a moment unsteadily on his feet. The relative hush that had earlier fallen on the dining room during the boy's flogging now dissolved in a clatter of laughter and talk at the sight of the obviously distressed and still tearful child.

"Take the brat away," Scyrax, who had returned to his couch with the happy Maccius, next commanded of Dictys, "as we've have had our fun with him." The youth complied.

"Now for the next entertainment," Scyrax subsequently shouted to his guests, many of whom had returned their lewd attentions to the naked boys sharing their couches, "which should be the highlight of the evening." Addressing his secretary, the fat man then ordered "Fetch Nisus!"

"My friends," Scyrax next happily announced, whilst producing a sharp knife from under his couch, "the next act actually stars me, as I personally castrate a boy!"

(To be continued)