Chapter Text
Castor sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. He hated the slave market. Too much noise, too many humans in too small a space, not enough airflow, and...well. No privacy or respect either. Not that he’d ever really gotten that, being a slave. He’d been born one, and was pretty sure he’d die one as well. But at least when serving in a private household he didn’t get stared at so much by strangers.
Stared at and poked and prodded like he was livestock. Which, he supposed, he technically was. He certainly didn’t have many more rights than a cow or a sheep…
Castor was abruptly pulled from the comfort of his own thoughts by the overseer of this section of the market yelling at them.
"Get up and look lively, you bastards! I want all of you in a row here at the front!"
Sighing to himself, Castor uncurled and rose fluidly to his feet. This could only mean someone had spoken to the slave dealer about acquiring a bed slave. Or a former bed slave, which most of those in this section were.
It had been three years since anyone had taken Castor to their bed. In his youth, he’d been considered quite pretty. Pretty enough to warm the bed of a fairly prominent Senator and entertain his friends anyway. At least, until he got too old. It hadn’t been a bad life, all things considered, but Castor wasn’t sorry not to be there any more.
Though the market certainly wasn’t a better place by any means. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be here for too much longer...
Moving into the line (as far as the manacle and chain around one ankle allowed him to move anyway) Castor assumed the typical pose of a submissive slave, legs spread wide apart, head bowed, hands folded behind his back. He made sure to keep his back straight but relaxed, and stood lightly balanced evenly on both feet. His almost shoulder-length blond hair (which really needed a trim, he didn’t like it long), flopped in front of his face, much to his annoyance. Breaking position for a moment to tuck it back behind his ears, Castor quickly resumed the required pose, making sure not to tilt his head so far down that it would fall in front of his face again.
Appius Juventius Aquila, Human Resources Buyer for Phallusy, was in the market to purchase a new slave for his company. Someone who could be used for demonstrations as well as serving and clearing away lunches for business meetings and doing various other chores and duties around the offices.
Relatively young, with some experience of toys (preferably not too much), photogenic, biddable and docile, fairly high pain tolerances, preferably unmarked… Appius doubted that he would find anything that fit all his requirements, but he hoped that he could find a slave that fit most of them. Perhaps an ex-concubīnus would best fit his requirements, at least in as far as having some sexual experience went, even if they weren’t used to toys, or public demonstrations - and he wanted a demonstration model more for the developers and office staff than for the shoppers in the store, which had its own slaves to model products on.
Nothing had caught his eye on his walk through the general area of the slave market (and he stayed away from the dedicated bed-slave section. They were in general too young and expensive to be of use to the company in this way), and after talking with a couple of sellers, he’d been referred to a small section towards the back. Apparently, there were some ex-concubīni in that section at present. After explaining to the seller there what he was after, the man had nodded before rousing a row of male slaves near the back wall to attention.
Walking down the row, Juventius Aquila noted they were all quite pretty, which made sense for former bed-slaves. There were seven of them, but he dismissed three quickly as they didn’t have the right look. That left four possibles. Deciding obedience was one of the most important things he wanted after looks, he snapped out a sudden order.
"Kneel."
Aquila watched the different reactions to his order. One dark-haired boy who couldn’t have been more than nineteen crashed to his knees with very little grace; he was immediately dismissed. That left three, all of whom had knelt neatly and with hardly any hesitation. Walking past each one, he noted how each looked down on their knees. Stopping at the last boy, Aquila noted the perfectly straight back and flawless pleasure slave pose with interest.
The slave was relaxed, but clearly at attention, awaiting an order. He had blond hair just shy of being shoulder-length and fair skin, which was all that could be seen from this angle. Tilting his head back with two fingers under his chin, Aquila noted the boy had bright blue eyes, a pert nose, full lips, and a neat jawline. The stubble on his chin and the broadness of his features showed he was probably in his early twenties, but he was still visually pleasing to look at. And Aquila didn’t really want a teenager anyway.
Tapping the boy’s mouth, Aquila spoke softly.
"Open, boy."
The slave did so immediately without complaint, keeping his eyes open and gaze lowered. He didn’t offer any resistance as Aquila stuck a finger in his mouth, sucking obediently on the digit when told to. Well. He seemed to be biddable and docile, at least where his mouth was concerned. Removing his finger, Aquila gave another order.
"Stand up, turn around and present yourself to me."
The boy didn’t hesitate to follow the order. Standing up with a grace and fluidity in his movements that even Varius Metellus’ boy couldn’t match, the slave turned around. Bending at the waist, he pulled apart his cheeks to present his hole. He had a round pert bottom and neat balls that didn’t hang too low. He didn’t shy away when Aquila touched the area behind his balls either, tracing a finger up to his hole.
A very promising reaction. He already ticked several of the boxes in what Aquila was looking for, in looks at least. Now, what sort of training did he have?
"Have you ever had toys used here, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
The slave’s voice was husky, but not unpleasant to listen to. Aquila moved his hand lower to fondle the balls.
"What sort of toys have been used in your arse?"
"Butt plugs and dildos, sir."
Pretty standard for a concubīnus then. Or ex-concubīnus, as the case was. Aquila was about to say something else, when his hand came to a stop on the skin just behind the slave’s balls.
"You have a scar here. What from?"
"A piercing, sir."
Aquila felt the slightly raised skin, realising there was indeed a small hole there from where a ring had used to be inserted. Bending down a little to get a better look, he was surprised when, realising what he wanted, the slave bent even more at his waist until he was practically folded in half, arse sticking in the air, legs still straight, arms wrapped loosely around them.
Well. The boy was obviously flexible to be able to do that and make it look so effortless. Very promising. People would like that. And the hole from the piercing was invisible to the naked eye unless you knew exactly what to look for. His back, bum, thighs and legs were otherwise unmarked; another box ticked. He was attractive, docile and biddable so far, and those bright blue eyes would look good in photographs.
"Stand up, turn around, and stand at attention."
The boy swiftly moved to comply with the orders, movements still graceful and sure. Aquila was pleased to note his chest and stomach were also unmarked, though he was rather thin for someone of his height. But that could be fixed easily enough. Moving his hand lower, Aquila picked up the boy’s flaccid cock. Fingering the head, he frowned slightly.
"There’s a hole here too. Another piercing?"
"Yes sir."
"An Albertus Caesar?"
The slave nodded, keeping his gaze focussed respectfully down, even as his cock showed some interest in the hand fondling it.
"Yes sir."
Aquila nodded thoughtfully. Chastity piercings then, most likely, old ones. But it was otherwise a nice cock, as neat and in proportion as the rest of the slave’s body was though with a slight backwards curve to it that Aquila thought could be due to his cock being secured back between his legs with the piercings in the past. Especially if it had happened while he was still growing. Which seemed very likely.
Eyes wandering past the cock, Aquila took in the rest of the front of the slave’s body. There was a little pubic hair on his groin area, but that could easily be removed. His legs were clean, straight and unmarked. He was obedient, quiet to handle, attractive, the right age. He had some experience with basic toys, which was good. And he was flexible enough to bend himself over double, which would make for some very nice demonstrations. There was no way of knowing what his pain tolerance was like; he didn’t look like the sort to ever have experienced much, if any, of that sort of thing...
"Turn around and show me the soles of your feet."
Because beating an attractive slave on the bottom of their feet so as not to visually disfigure them was more common than people would think. Especially in bed-slaves.
The bottom of this one’s feet, however, were unmarked. Which showed he hadn’t been beaten, but still left the question of his pain tolerance unanswered. Still. He ticked all the other boxes that were important.
Now to check his record.
Pulling his tabula out of his bag, Aquila unlocked it before holding it out to the slave.
"Fingerprint."
The boy complied, pressing a finger to the scanner. Scrolling through the information on him, Aquila noted his name. Castor. He was twenty-three, and verna. Two previous owners. There was nothing about any history of punishments in his file; in fact, there was nothing remarkable about his records at all.
"Can you read and write, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
He’d do for what was wanted, Aquila decided, watching the boy stand neatly and calmly at attention. It was noted in his file that he’d been a house slave until being sold as a concubīnus when he was fourteen, so he had at least basic experience in domestic chores.
"Have you ever been restrained?"
At this, the boy hesitated for a second, before replying softly.
"Not really, sir."
"Hm." His reaction to that question wasn’t unexpected given he didn’t have experience, but that was also good in a way. He could be trained to be what the company needed in a demonstration model without previous training getting in the way.
He would do very nicely indeed, in fact. Aquila stowed his tabula back in his bag and turned to get the attention of the slave dealer.
Most slave-dealers were oily types, and this one was no different. Juventius Aquila managed to haggle him down from the extortionate original asking price to a more feasible 6000 sestertii, which was still high but not so high that the man would be able to boast of getting one over on a customer.
Castor’s ankle was unlocked from the chain and Aquila pulled out a tunic in a plain stone colour, with coloured braiding running from shoulder to hem. Caster pulled it on and then his hands were fastened in front of him in cheap disposable zip-tie cuffs.
"Does he have any possessions?" Aquila asked, pausing as he pulled a leash from his bag.
The dealer rolled his eyes and sent an underling to fetch a plain canvas bag that didn’t look as if it held very much. Aquila opened the flap and had a quick look; it contained a tunic and a soft toy that looked as if it had seen better days. He slipped the strap over his head so that the bag lay over his own satchel and clipped the leash to the cuffs confining Castor’s wrists in front of him.
"We’re not going very far," he told the slave as they left the slave market. "You belong to Phallusy, your main duties will be cleaning the offices and product demonstration. You will also provide sexual relief to any of the office workers who require such services."
The slave nodded obediently.
"Yes, Mast- sir?" Castor sounded confused as to how he was supposed to address Aquila.
"Sir is fine. Did you have a question you want to ask?"
After a beat, the slave nodded slowly.
"Where will I live? Sir."
"There are designated slave quarters in the Phallusy building. You'll find there are other slaves living there too. If you have any problems, especially out of hours, you'll go to Linus, who's the senior slave. I think you'll like him."
The slave kept his head down, being mindful of where he placed his bare feet on the dingy street surface. He was following willingly and quietly, however, so Aquila didn’t hurry him.
"Permission to ask another question, Sir?"
"You may."
"One of my duties will be providing sexual relief for the free office workers? I won’t be expected to serve the other slaves in this manner?"
"No. You may go with another slave if you want to, but it should be mutual and nobody's going to make you. However, it is expected that you will do anything any free person wants. The same is true for all the company slaves."
They arrived at the Phallusy offices as Aquila was speaking.