The Convivium (Banquet)

An essential part of Roman life was the convivium or banquet. It is said well-connected Romans used these as a means of keeping their friends close and their enemies even closer and no expense was spared by the host in serving the most exotic foods, wines and entertainments for his guests.

Most domestic conviviums were held in the triclinium (dining-room) and were small, intimate affairs usually comprising six to nine guests reclining on three couches - each couch accommodating three diners - which were arranged in a "U-shape" around a central table on which the food was served.

Pictured is a young Roman patrician selecting the slaves who'll serve at tonight's banquet for five of his closest friends. He has chosen his six most handsome, young slaves whose duties will involve serving the different courses - there will be six - and ensuring the guests' wine goblets are kept filled.

The Master has decided the slaves will serve "au naturel" as their nudity will add spice to the dinner and, no doubt, be the cause of much ribald humour.

As the night progresses and more wine is consumed, the host and his guests will loose their inhibitions and naturally grope a slave's pert ass or fondle his cock and balls. And then …… well one thing leads to another, doesn't it?

Here, the young Master instructs his slaves in their duties and warns them that they will yield to all demands made of them by his guests and deny them nothing. Otherwise, they face dire punishment should they give his guests cause for complaint!

Artwork by Theo Blaze (a truly great artist); text is mine.

The Lusitani litter-slaves.

These brawny slaves are part of a team of twelve Lusitani slaves who bear the litter of their master, Senator Karelius on their broad shoulders whenever he travels through the crowded, city streets.The senator would never deign to walk the filth-strewn streets; better that his sandals stay unsoiled and the feet of his litter-slaves wade through the rotting rubbish, excrement and urine that fouls the  narrow streets leading to the Forum and the Senate Chamber.

Sadly for the slaves, as they carried their master from the Senate to his domus, one of their number slipped on a piece of rotting fruit causing the litter to lurch sideways and dislodging its reclining occupant from among his silken cushions.

To say the senator was angry is an understatement. He saw this as an insult to his "dignitas" which requires the direst punishment. He is known to have crucified a slave for a lesser offence and the thought of seeing his twelve brawny slaves hanging from their rough, wooden crosses is an appealing one.

But today, having just won a major debate with his arch-rival, Senator Maximus in the Senate Chamber, he is feeling magnanimous and decides to be merciful. Rather than crucifixion, a flogging will suffice and  each slave member of the team will receive fifty strokes of the whip.

Besides, Karelius is quite attached to his Lusitani team of litter-slaves. They are magnificent beasts-of-burden and would be very costly to replace.

These three are the last to be flogged. Once their whipping is completed they will join the other nine slaves now lying on their bellies on the straw-strewn floor of their pen as they recover.

Clips sourced from the internet and their origin is unknown; the text is mine.

The Roman slave-market.

A reader kindly sent me these three drawings of a Roman slave-market which I want to share with you. The drawings tell their own visual story and don't require any words from me except to say they capture the abject shame and loneliness of a new slave being offered for sale for the first time, the utter humiliation he felt as his naked body was publicly examined for its strengths or any defects and his hopeless despair as he is led away into an unknown future by his new master.

But that is the true nature of chattel slavery!

However, in my wild erotic fantasies, i would trade places with this slave!

Thank you to the reader for your contribution.

Patrikios 

Whenever I am bored or at a loose end, I, Marcus Flavius, senator of Rome, like to visit the smaller, lesser known of Rome's slave-markets. Mostly, their livestock is ordinary run-of-the-mill animals best suited to working the fields of a latifundium, the mines or quarries.

However, occasionally, just occasionally, one does come across a rarity you'd expect to find in the "arcana tabulata catastae", that special market closed to the plebeians where the most beautiful and handsome slaves are sold to the discerning, patrician nobility.

Today, I visited the small slave-market of Volpiscus who, even among his fellow pedlars of human flesh, is considered to be shady and disreputable. But then, all slave-dealers are beneath contempt and are rightly regarded as "infamii". Nevertheless, these vultures do serve a useful purpose and keep Rome well supplied with slaves to serve us.

I was disappointed with the offerings in Volpiscus' slave-pens and was about to leave his premises when I saw this most handsome, young, male slave whose complexion suggested he came from the East. I was enraptured by his slave-nakedness, his boyish good looks, his nervous shyness and his air of vulnerability. Such masculine beauty required my closer scrutiny and I had Volpiscus  remove the slave from his pen and spread-eagled within an inspection frame for my closer, hands-on inspection. And I wasn't disappointed.

The slave's warm, hard flesh yielded softly to my touch, his breath was as intoxicating as the sweetest Pompeiian honeyed wine and his exposed underarms exuded his masculine scent in a way that aroused me to a powerful erection.

I playfully ruffled the hair on his sweating, heaving chest and despite the fact that the current trend is to have a male slave's body glabrous and hair free, I prefer my male slaves to be hirsute as a sign of their masculinity. Playfully, I teased his ruby red nipples to needlepoint sharpness and hey reminded me of luscious, wild summer berries growing in a grassy meadow and oh, how I longed to taste their flavour. .

I slowly traced a finger down over the delightful treasure-trail bisecting his well-defined abdominal muscles pausing to probe the deep indent of his navel and to savour the butterfly fluttering of his belly's muscles as I did so. Then, I continued downwards and tested his prodigious endowment for its vigour and strength. I have to say the slave's penis responded enthusiastically to my touch and left nothing to be desired..

I walked behind the slave and ran my hands over the broad shoulders and muscular back to the delightfully, rounded orbs of his pert ass which only whetted my salacious need for him even more. Ye gods, how I lusted after the slave's beautiful ass. Naturally, I tested him for his virginity and tightness and as my finger explored ever deeper within him, the slave's audible gasp of surprise, the shivering tremor that rippled through his nude body and the widening of his eyes told me he had guessed to what purposes his young body would be put should he become my slave.

From that moment, there was no further doubt in my mind  The slave was destined to be my property and I will return to bid for him at auction irrespective of the cost to my purse.

Volpiscus told me the slave is from Persia and he is the 20 year old, junior son of a Persian nobleman. He was captured in battle and taken to the island of Delos where, once, upwards of 10,000 Greek slaves were sold in one sale. From there he was sold to a wholesale importer of slaves for the Roman markets. How a slave of such rare beauty finds himself in Volpiscus' tawdry establishment is a mystery.

Already, I have chosen a name for my new slave after I have purchased him. I will replace his unpronounceable, Persian name with the more civilised Greek name "Patrikios" meaning noble.

The name amuses me! As Patrikios lies on my pleasure-couch, surrendering his slave's body to my carnal needs, he will no doubt reflect on the irony of his new slave name. It will remind him that once he was noble-born but is now just a slave - and my slave.

Picture sourced from the internet: text is mine.

Smiles today; tears tomorrow!

A month ago, these men, working on a remote oilfield in Northern Africa, were caught up in a civil war which saw them captured and held prisoner by the rebels.

Told they were being held to ransom - the money raised would help finance the rebels' war with the government - there were held in close confinement and spent an anxious time waiting to see if their oil company would pay for their release.

They have just been told by the rebels that money has been paid for their release and that tomorrow, a convoy of trucks will move them out of the battle zone.

Here we see the jubilant workers smiling and rejoicing at the news.

What they don't know is that the government and the oil company have refused to deal with the rebels as a matter of principle or to  pay the ransom for their release.

Desperate for money to fund their insurgency, the rebels have now sold the workers into slavery.

Tomorrow, as the workers eagerly clamber aboard the trucks, instead of heading north to the Mediterranean and freedom,  the convoy will turn south and deliver them to the salt mines at Taoudenni, 650 kilometres north of Timbuktu where they will spend time under the whip manually hacking out 200 pound slabs of salt from a dry lake bed.

Picture sourced from the internet; text is mine. 

The Final Moment of Total Despair!

Finally, the awful truth hits home. You are no longer a free man; you are now a slave. In a few minutes, you'll be dragged from your cell, led to the auction-block and sold as a commodity to the highest bidder.

What fate awaits you?

Artwork by Amalaric. Text is mine  

Slim pickings!

First slaver: " It's been a disappointing night! Just these two. It's a poor catch. I would have expected more. Afterall, it's the weekend and there should be lot's of guys out trying to score.

Second slaver: True! But then you win some and you lose some. Last weekend was a good haul with seven catches. Better luck next weekend."

First slaver: "Perhaps it was the bait we used? We should stick to using blondes as our lures. These young guys seem to prefer blondes."

Second slaver: "Could be! But these two won't have to worry about scoring pussy in future. Where they're headed, it will be their asses that are used. Let's load "em up and head 'em out. They have a long trip ahead of them."

Artwork by Herodotus. This is an extraction from a larger work sourced from the internet. Text is mine.