The Traitor's Son Chapters 77-78
By Zelamir, adapted by Pueros

This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY

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Herewith are the next chapters of the saga of Marius, son of the traitor, Sejanus. The original story was by Zelamir but, with the author's permission, has been adapted and rewritten for Nialos by Pueros.

The rewrite conforms to Pueros' own style and the text has been substantially expanded, with significant additions and changes also made to subplots. For example, recent chapters, including these episodes, are all the work of the adapter. However, the main thread of Zelamir's original story has been maintained, namely what ultimately happens to young Marius.

Pueros hopes that his rewrite does Zelamir's original story justice!
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Chapter LXXVII

Despite his current exhausted and shocked state, Marius' duties for the evening were, of course, not yet over. The naked boy knew that he now had to parade himself amongst the crowd of spectators, who were relining or sitting on their couches, and offer himself to any client who wanted sex with him.

Although Marius was not as popular as he had once been with regulars, there were many new clients in the 'House of Ganymede' that night to whom he would be a nice fresh boy. Even those who had already enjoyed him on a frequent basis and had become tired of him might seek to become intimately reacquainted with him for one more time, stimulated by the bravery and skill that he had just displayed on the horizontal bar. After all, the young prostitute might not be so lucky on the next day.

Marius reluctantly advanced towards the waiting throng, and the many clearly lecherous eyes scanning his lovely naked but currently sweaty body. However, the boy was not now to discover how his popularity as a sex partner had suddenly been boosted by his recent highly dangerous acrobatics act. The reason for this development began when he discerned an all too familiar menacing voice. As adult slaves extinguished the already dying flames behind him with large heavy cloths, he heard someone sinisterly referring to him.

"Look, darling, it's little Mariullus," the ominous voice said, "who was one of the boys of my friend, Scyrax. I've always enjoyed having some fun with him."

Marius had inadvertently headed straight for a couch upon which Maccius was reclining, adjacent to a divan occupied by a young man whom the boy had never seen before. This other person shared the evil youth's epicene blond hair and cold reptilian eyes.

The main consolation in the humiliating and often anguishing life that Marius had led over recent months was the fact that he had not encountered Maccius again since the day on which the evil youth had enjoyed sex with him and subsequently tortured him with a needle. The boy had constantly dreaded a re-enactment.

Marius had also considered Maccius' failure to reappear as odd, given that the evil youth obviously thoroughly enjoyed humiliating and hurting him. The boy to learn the reason later, from an unexpected source.

Maccius had, in fact, been travelling with Scyrax, who had decided to go to Germania, where he had heard about a failed tribal uprising against Roman rule and many resultant captives. The prospect of cheaply acquiring many local blond blue-eyed boys without having to deal with expensive middlemen had spurred the fat merchant into such unusual but potentially very lucrative action.

Scyrax was not to be disappointed with his expedition. He brought back to Rome many exceedingly pretty examples of freshly enslaved Germanian boyhood, who were currently being trained for their new roles in life in the harsh environment of his house.

Maccius had also not been disappointed with the expedition. As Scyrax had bought so many virgin boys so cheaply, the fat merchant had felt able to gift one very choice specimen to the evil youth.

Consequently, the boy concerned had barely survived the long journey to Rome, albeit not because of the discomfort and hazards of the trip. Maccius had instead thoroughly enjoyed painfully deflowering the child and subsequently regularly beating and torturing him.

The boy was still alive and was now a slave serving Maccius in particular in the household of the evil youth's patrician parents. However, for how long his survival would last was indeterminable.

"Mariullus, sweetest," Maccius shouted, "come to us, dear child. I've been so looking forward to seeing you again!"

On observing Marius' horrified hesitation in obeying, and clear signs that the boy was about to go anywhere except towards Maccius' couch, the evil youth added "Now, you mustn't run away, sweetest. I'm sure that you can have so much fun with my friend and me!"

Marius looked round desperately for an escape route but saw Fabius standing nearby, watching him. The boy fully appreciated that a young prostitute who refused the overtures of a client was certain to be soundly flogged.

Consequently, Marius reluctantly approached Maccius' couch in dread. "Sweetest," the evil youth subsequently commanded once the boy had arrived beside him and whilst patting the empty surface of the divan by him, "do come and sit here."

Marius complied with continued reluctance and dread, whilst Maccius went on to comment "We saw your performance on the horizontal bar, sweetest. The act was so exciting. You were so brave and so determined not to fall in the flames and be burnt."

"I have to confess, though," Maccius advised, "that I was just a little disappointed that you didn't fall, sweetest. I'm sure that you'd scream so melodiously and you'd look so pretty throwing yourself about amidst the flames whilst you burnt. Still, there's always tomorrow and we'll absolutely have to be here to see what happens."

"Do you think you'll survive tomorrow, sweetest?" Maccius subsequently cruelly asked but Marius did not reply. The boy not only did not want to play along with the evil youth's verbal teasing but also genuinely did not know the answer to the question. However, given that Fabius had announced that his next performance on the horizontal bar would be longer than his first, he was worryingly pessimistic.

"Well, you seem to have mislaid your ability to speak, sweetest," Maccius next remarked. Addressing his friend, the evil youth subsequently declared "Mariullus has lost his tongue. We must do something to help him recover it."

Returning to questioning Marius, Maccius proceeded to enquire, whilst tenderly stroking the boy's bare back, "Have you any idea, sweetest, how much the burning of your delicate flesh will hurt when you do eventually fall into the flames?" However, the young prostitute, whose skin had erupted in goosepimples as a result of the evil youth's creepy touch, again did not respond.

"Ah, the sweet child still will not reply," Maccius therefore commented to his friend, "perhaps because he doesn't know the answer. I therefore think that together we should find out!"

"Darling," Maccius then requested of his friend, "please hold my little Mariullus still. I want to show him how much fire hurts."

"Let's see," Maccius sadistically and sinisterly added, "how much the boy enjoys the flame from the oil-lamp on our table when applied to one of those lovely little rosy nipples of his!"

Chapter LXVIII

After Maccius' friend compliantly rose and stood up from his couch in order to grip Marius, the evil youth leant forward to pick up the oil lamp from the table in front of their couches. However, in reaction, the appalled boy instinctively twisted away from the hands holding him, aided by the fact that his naked body was still sweaty and well- oiled.

Marius subsequently fled from the scene, heedless of the consequences of displeasing some clients. The boy considered a beating in penance better than having his nipples tortured by a hot flame.

As Marius fled, he could hear Maccius screaming behind him "Stop that boy. Stop him now!"

Marius next saw a clearly displeased Fabius and two adult slaves moving forward to intercept him. Other men, patrons of the boy brothel, stood up ready to join in the hunt for fun.

Marius knew he did not have a chance of escape but he believed that he had to run whilst he could, as he could not think of alternative action to delay being tortured by the flame of the oil-lamp. The boy therefore desperately twisted and turned about the great hall, dodging around couches and slipping under tables whilst the growing mob bayed at his heels.

Marius' elusiveness could not, of course, last and actually came to an end when, whilst attempting to dart past some couches on which two men were reclining, taking no part in the chase, one of them suddenly reached out and caught him by the wrist. The boy pulled desperately against his capture but this time there was no escape.

"Please, Sir," Marius begged, whilst panting and tearful, and as the chasing mob closed in, "please let me go. "I don't think I shall," the very well-dressed young man concerned responded in a highly refined accent, whilst demonstrating his strength by gathering the helpless naked boy close towards him.

Without rising, the man pulled Marius towards him and forced him down onto the floor to squat at his feet. By this time, the chasing mob had finally caught up with the frightened panicky boy.

"Mariullus, you're a very naughty boy," Maccius, who was at the head of the mob, subsequently commented, "for running away like that, just as we were beginning to have fun." The evil youth then addressed the young prostitute's still reclining captor.

"Thank you, Sir," Maccius said, "for catching our little friend. Please hand him to me and I'll personally supervise his penance for being so naughty!"

Maccius was simultaneously panting slightly as a result of his recent running, as well as giggling in excitement at the prospect of what he imminently proposed to do to Marius. The evil youth also reached out for the still squatting boy, who cringed away from his hands.

Maccius' attempt to retrieve Marius was, however, halted when the young man declared quietly but confidently "The boy stays here with me!" "But he's mine," the evil youth protested, "for I had him first and I want him back. Give him to me or we'll simply take him from you!"

Maccius' friend, plus several of the men, who had joined in chasing Marius, also muttered menacingly. However, a greater number began discreetly to fade away into the background.

"Stay where you are, boy," the young man commanded authoritatively, whilst standing and releasing his hold on the still squatting Marius. The latter was, of course, now happy to comply.

The young man's movements as he stood were unhurried but controlled and smooth. Looking up at him from where he crouched, Marius noticed that he was, although only of medium height, powerfully built with broad shoulders and a general air of mental assurance and physical competence.

The young man's tunic was relatively plain and simply cut but was also spotlessly clean and made of the finest and undoubtedly very expensive cloth. The belt that he wore was of well-oiled hide and was fastened by a heavy silver clasp.

There was a suggestion of the army in the young man's dress and decorum. Marius also thought that he detected an air of the highest ranks of the nobility about him.

"You can try to take the boy from me," the young man replied to Maccius' threat, "but I assure you that you'll deeply regret your attempt!" The evil youth initially believed that this promise related to having to fight to retrieve Marius but suddenly he perceptively realised that there was something even more sinister behind the threat.

Maccius' fears proved well-founded when his friend tugged at the sleeve of his own tunic and whispered to him urgently, whilst the backing crowd dissipated further. The cause was not recognition of the young man by anyone who had remained in support of the evil youth but identification of his older companion.

Whilst whispering, Maccius' friend had nodded towards the young man's drinking companion, a fat middle aged individual with a face marked by great dissipation and self-indulgence. He had remained reclining on his own couch, apparently observing the scene with an innocent amused smile on his face, as though he was in no way involved in the unfolding drama but was highly amused by the incident.

Maccius finally recognised the young man's older companion. "Titus Caesonius Priscus," the evil youth requested with increasing nervousness evident in his voice, as his earlier confidence in his rights began to wane considerably, "please ask your friend to give the boy up to me!"

Maccius might not have recognised the young man who was confronting him but did know Titus Caesonius Priscus, holder of the office of Imperial Master of Ceremonies. This role included the post of 'Comptroller of Pleasures', namely organising the Emperor Tiberius' entertainments on the island of Capri, which necessitated an unceasing supply of fresh boys to satisfy the old despot's still voraciously sadistic pederastic lusts.

"I don't think I shall," Titus coolly replied, echoing the earlier answer that the young man had given to Marius when the boy had begged to be released from his grip. "You see, Maccius," the old rake continued in explanation, "I have no authority whatsoever over Drusus Julius Caesar, nephew and heir apparent to our illustrious Emperor Tiberius and just back from victoriously fighting rebel tribes on the Germanian border."

"In fact," Titus added, "Drusus Julius Caesar, nephew and heir apparent to our illustrious Emperor Tiberius, has considerable practical if not legal authority over me and I suggest everyone else in this establishment, and indeed the whole Empire, by virtue of his status. I also understand that you and your close friend, Scyrax, benefited considerably from the recent Germanian campaign in terms of acquiring fresh boys. You therefore appear to be being very greedy in asking for this particular delicious specimen to be handed over to you by the person most responsible for your windfall!"

Maccius' face turned white in fearful shock, as making an enemy of the putative next Roman Emperor was not a wise move. However, the evil youth somehow managed to overcome his momentary trauma to move quickly from a threatening attitude towards Drusus to an obsequious one.

"Please forgive me, Sir," Maccius fawningly requested of Drusus, "for not recognising you. Please also excuse my earlier attitude towards this boy but I was upset at his antics in refusing to serve me and instead running away. Of course you can retain him. I'll gain my pleasure with him at some other time, if he survives his nightly performances on the horizontal bar!"

Maccius subsequently glanced at Marius. "Well, sweetest," the evil youth commented to the boy, whose face displayed a slight grin of happiness at his narrow escape, "you seem to have found yourself some nice and very important friends for now. However, I'll be back tomorrow to see you dance over the flames and, if you survive, I'll demand of Fabius and Felicia that I be allowed to punish you for the trouble you've caused me tonight."

"You'll then learn how it feels to burn," Maccius sinisterly added, whilst wiping the smile off Marius' face, "although perhaps now your nipple won't be suffering but somewhere even more tender. Contemplate that lovely prospect, sweetest!"

Maccius returned to looking at Drusus, bowed respectfully and smiled insincerely before turning on his heel and walking away in chagrin. By now, the only other person who had remained at the scene was the alarmed Fabius, with even the evil youth's friend having already retreated quietly back to his couch. The brothel-keeper, like many others present, had not originally recognised the Emperor's most important nephew.

"I don't think, Lord," Titus remarked privately to Drusus, "that involving yourself in a drunken brawl in a house of ill repute immediately on your return from the Germanian campaign would necessarily be the best way of making a good impression on your uncle." "Well, I'm actually completely sober," the young man replied, "and anyway what would be a good way of endearing myself to the old lecher, apart from losing a number of years in age and turning myself into a common boy tart like this little whore here?"

Marius, who was still squatting for safety at Drusus' feet, overheard the insulting description of him but was not hurt by the comments. The boy was simply too grateful for his recent rescue from Maccius' perfidious clutches to be upset by the words, which anyway summed up correctly what he had become, although he believed that the term 'common' might not yet apply to him. After all, he still served in a superior brothel and had just proven himself to be an accomplished acrobat.

"Oh, what is it, fellow?" Drusus subsequently snapped, after noticing the still hovering Fabius. "Excuse me, Lord," the brothel-keeper answered obsequiously, "but I should like to add my apologies for the recent unsavoury incident. I'd also like to know whether you both have everything you wish. Please feel free to order anything else you want and it will be an honour to provide it to you free."

"Meanwhile, I'll take the cause of the recent trouble away," Fabius added, "and have him soundly whipped for his impertinence in forcing himself on your Lord. We have many equally pretty young boys who can serve you for free and be worthier of your attention than him. If you would permit me to send a selection of the finest to you, I should be honoured to do so!"

"No, we'll will keep this boy and want nothing further," Drusus answered before changing his mind. "On second thoughts," he corrected, "bring me a pitcher of cold drinking water, a mug, half a white loaf and a decent amount of goat's cheese."

"A pitcher of cold drinking water, a mug, half a white loaf and a decent amount of goat's cheese," Fabius repeated uncertainly. "But we have much better fare available, Lord," the brothel-keeper then advised, "including the best Falernian wine available in Rome. Would you not prefer some of these delicacies?"

"No, I do not want wine or delicacies," Drusus retorted, "because, if I did, I would have said. Please provide just what I've requested and perhaps you would have it delivered here now and be good enough to leave us to our discussions!"

"Very good, Lord," Fabius replied, as he backed quickly away, knowing when he was not wanted. He did so whilst respectfully bowing deeply and muttering to himself in an unbelieving voice "A pitcher of cold drinking water, a mug, half a white loaf and a decent amount of goat's cheese."

"Well," Drusus next commented to Titus, "if I can't endear myself to my uncle by having disputes in brothels about pretty little boy whores, how do I do so? I'd be glad of your advice, although, considering what the Emperor indulges in on Capri, I would have thought that he would have found such behaviour on my part to his liking than otherwise. My presence and actions here would surely seem to suggest to him that we, he and I, have similar tastes!"

"If I may be candid, Lord," Titus responded, "the first action that I would recommend is that you would be wise to stop showing disdain for Tiberius' sexual tastes. He has spies everywhere and you never know who might be listening. Your words could be reported back to the Emperor, offending him and landing you in trouble. Anyway, you do share his passion for pretty boys."

"I do indeed share Tiberius' taste for pretty boys," Drusus responded, "but I only want to make love to them. I definitely don't have the Emperor's blatant sadism."

"There's also only you and me here to overhear my words," Drusus continued, "and you will not report them back to Tiberius for the simple reason that you have decided that I am my uncle's most likely successor and have therefore cast in your lot with me. You will not betray me because it would not be in your own interests to do so."

"That's as may be, Lord," Titus suggested, whilst nodding with meaning at Marius, "but there may be people in a position to overhear whom you've neglected to consider." "The boy tart," Drusus replied, "but who'd take any notice of a little slut like that, a common whore?"

"Your Uncle trusts no one, Lord," Titus contested, "and, as I've said, has spies everywhere, almost certainly some of them here and others following you. This boy will not be one but he could easily be approached, now he has been seen in our company, and quizzed about what we spoke about today."

Marius, listening to all this conversation, still felt no resentment at the way Drusus described him. The boy well appreciated what he now was and he knew that the Emperor's nephew, when he referred to him as a tart, slut and whore, spoke no more than the truth.

In continued gratitude for his recent, albeit perhaps sadly only temporary, salvation from Maccius' wicked clutches, Marius also resolved in his heart that every spy in Tiberius' pay could cross-question him about what had been said between Drusus and Titus and he would not tell. They could whip him and sear his flesh with their heated pincers but he would not betray the young man who had saved him from the evil youth.

Marius, of course, did not dare to relate this undertaking to Drusus, for a slave does not speak unless addressed. However, whilst now sitting rather than squatting on the marble floor, the naked boy attempted to convey his devotion by discreetly resting his head against the young man's thigh.

In instinctive response, Drusus dropped his hand onto Marius' head and idly ruffled the boy's silky golden hair as he listened to Titus. "Tiberius is now old, ill and failing, Lord," the latter commented, apparently after accepting that the young prostitute was not a threat, "and you are his obvious heir. You have only to survive to ascend the throne but you have enemies and rivals who'll attempt to poison the Emperor's opinion of you. You've already spoken too often, openly and disparagingly about the nature of his pleasures and he resents your indiscreet insulting attitude."

"But I resent what he does to many of his boys," Drusus answered, "with his taste for acute sadism often actually maiming or even killing some of them. Most might only be slave chattels but the waste is appalling!"

"Well, Tiberius destroyed your elder brother, Lord," Titus replied, "because of similar attitudes towards him and suspicions that he was plotting against him. He'll do the same to you if you give him grounds to have the same concerns. You must therefore, above all, guard your tongue. Do not criticise him. You shouldn't have to remain silent for long. Meanwhile, do nothing that'll give him motive for thinking you are disloyal but instead take action to show the opposite!"

"And how," Drusus asked, "do I do that Titus? I am loyal. I may think that my uncle is an evil old pervert but I do not plot against him. After all, what's the point, as he will soon be gone?"

"Oh, what is it now, fellow?" Drusus interrupted his conversation with Titus to snap suddenly at the returning Fabius, who had reappeared carrying a silver salver and was standing by the table bowing deeply. The brothel-keeper personally serving guests was a very rare occurrence in the 'House of Ganymede'.

"I have brought a ewer of cold drinking water, a cup, half a white loaf and a decent amount of goat's cheese, as ordered, Lord," Fabius responded, with disbelief still evident in his voice. The brothel-keeper found difficult to accept that Tiberius' nephew and prospective next Emperor wanted such simple plebeian fare, for which he had taken steps to improve the presentation by serving the stuff using utensils of precious solid silver.

"Oh good, give it to the young tart here," Drusus casually commanded. "The boy, Lord?" the startled Fabius queried in intensified disbelief.

"Yes, man," Drusus impatiently confirmed, "to the boy. You don't think I would touch such stuff myself. The tart's no doubt thirsty after his performance over the flames and he's sure to be hungry as well. Show me a slave of his age who is not. So give your salver to him and be off. I have private matters to discuss!"

Fabius did his best to hide his incredulity and anger when he bent forward and thrust the salver at Marius. The boy took the tray from him and without troubling to use the silver cup provided lifted the ewer to his lips, gratefully gulping the cold water inside down his throat. With his immediate thirst slaked, he next started on the bread and cheese with eagerness.

Meanwhile, Marius fully appreciated that he was going to be in immense trouble when Drusus had gone. The clearly disgusted and now departing Fabius would undoubtedly salve his frustrations on the boy's back and bottom with a crop, and there was the prospect of another perilous performance on the horizontal bar to come, plus Maccius to face if he survived. However, for the moment the young prostitute was content to enjoy his good fortune.

Drusus briefly watched Marius gorge on his food, with a half-smile on his face, before returning his attention back to Titus. "Well, my friend," he now asked of the older man, "what do you suggest that I should do to display my loyalty to Tiberius?"

"I believe you must, Lord," Titus answered, "place yourself in a position where you cannot be suspected of plotting because it would be all but physically impossible for you to do so." "Do you mean," Drusus queried in return, "that I should behave like the old man himself did in the reign of Augustus and exile myself to Rhodes?"

"I do not believe, Lord," Titus replied, "that would be sufficient. Augustus unfairly suspected Tiberius of plotting against him even when he was on Rhodes. I do think that you should go to an island but not to that one. There is only one place where you can live that'll give you a chance of convincing your uncle that you harbour no plans against him."

"And where is that?" asked Drusus. "Capri, Lord," Titus responded.

Seeing the immediate expression of horror on Drusus' face, Titus hurried on with his explanation. "Consider, Lord," the older man said in clarification, "if you are there under his eyes. You can do nothing without him becoming aware. He will not suspect you of plotting because he will simply know that you are not doing so. Living there might also enable you to ingratiate yourself with him, thereby protecting yourself even more."

"But I hate the place," Drusus retorted, "because my uncle has turned Capri into a vast boy brothel catering for his own diseased sadistic tastes. I hate being witness to his perverse cruelty."

"It should not be for long, Lord," Titus suggested, "and such a manoeuvre in my opinion represents your best chance of surviving long enough to assume the throne. Indeed, such a move might be your only realistic opportunity to fend off Tiberius' suspicions and the nefarious schemes of your enemies and rivals. The Emperor has you in his sights already and, unless you show him that his worries are groundless, he will kill you, just as he killed your elder brother."

Drusus sat up for a moment on his couch, with his legs stuck out straight in front of him and his eyes fixed gloomily on the floor, whilst contemplating Titus' recommendation. He then made a decision.

"Very well, I shall do as you suggest," Drusus announced, whilst also now looking at Marius, "and you may buy this boy for me as well. I'll give him to my uncle on my arrival on Capri."

"The young tart's the sort of gift the old lecher would appreciate," Drusus remarked, "especially when dancing dangerously for him over red hot coals!"

(To be continued)