Eagle’s Claw – part 3
Ancient Roman, slavery, ball busting, teen, adult male
A Roman slave trader pays a high price for his dishonesty.
Recap: Senator Quintus Faustus has demonstrated to his friend how his “Eagle’s Claw” testicle clamps can be used to subdue his male slaves.
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Eagle’s claw – part 3
23AD, Villa Herculaneum
An hour later, Valens found his father and Senator Quintus Faustus sitting on the veranda as the senator had promised.
“Ahh, here’s our young colt,” Quintus said. “Did you enjoy having your pole sucked?”
Valens smiled shyly and looked at the ground. His black hair was matted to his forehead.
“I’ll take that as a yes, hmmm?”
Valens looked up at the man through his long dark lashes and nodded.
“Awww, look at him peering at me through his lashes. Such a pretty son you have Cassius. Look at him, he’s still glowing. And it seems that she has sucked out what little speech he had.”
Quintus smiled at his friend Cassius.
“Indeed. She must have been very good to rob you of your tongue so utterly son?”
“Ahh, at last he speaks!” Quintus said. “Did she drain you completely? I can have her suck you longer if you like?”
He turned to Cassius.
“That woman could suck a plum through a worm’s ass!”
Cassius laughed, and even Valens gave a broad smile.
“You agree?” Quintus asked.
“Yes sir, definitely,” Valens agreed.
“So, shall I get her to suck you a little longer?”
“No. No thank you sir. No more thank you,” Valens replied quickly.
Quintus grinned broadly.
“Sucked those young nuts of yours empty huh?”
“She does have a rare gift doesn’t she? Did she make your knees tremble?”
Valens hesitated a few moments, then nodded confirming the senator’s suggestion. Both men laughed again at his shy candour.
“I expect you’re still a little weak at the knees now boy?”
Valens nodded. The chest of his tunic was damp with perspiration.
“Well take this goblet of water. Do you think you have the energy to join us as we go check up on my newest slaves?”
“Thank you sir. Yes sir I do.”
“Good, then let’s go down to the fields to see how they’re doing.”
The wheat fields were further away than the olive groves in the opposite direction, but the group arrived soon enough. The fields were filled with naked slaves harvesting the early crop. As they got closer, Valens recognised the profile of the large man who had masturbated for the senator earlier.
“That’s the man from before,” he observed breaking his silence.
Valens had been quiet on the walk down from the veranda, whilst the two men talked about nothing important. The base of his cock ached pleasantly from the six orgasms Aurelia had drawn from him, and he was aware of his balls in a way he had never been before. The heft of them; their weight hanging in is loincloth. He felt them bouncing in his soft sack.
“Yes it is. Manfred. Look how he swaggers. He’s the only one without an eagle’s claw. He thinks he is better than the rest because of it, and because he thinks he is to be a breeder.”
“Is he not then?” Cassius asked.
Senator Faustus smirked but did not answer.
“Look, see how tall he stands Valens. Even though he is just a slave like the others, he looks down on them, literally and metaphorically. It’s amazing how a few inches of height and a large cock gives a man airs and graces isn’t it son?”
“Still, unless you grow rapidly over the next few years, that’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about eh?”
Now it was Cassius’ turn to smirk as Quintus gently teased his son.
Valens blushed almost purple.
“No sir,” he responded quietly.
Quintus looked dead pan at the teenager’s crestfallen expression for few seconds then his face cracked into a broad smile and he wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder and drew him roughly to his side.
“Oh, I’m just teasing you Valens!” he said heartily. “I expect you’re perfectly normal for your age, and your cock is bigger than most of the men here!”
Valens looked at the workers. It was true. Their pain shrivelled cocks looked like slugs poking out from their groins.
“Oh look,” Quintus said, quickly moving on. “There are the other three new ones.”
He pointed far across the field.
“Are they? I can’t tell one person from another at that distance,” Cassius said.
“No, nor I my friend, but their gait is unmistakable. See how they shuffle with their legs spread like a post rider who had been in the saddle too long.”
“Ah yes, now you mention it, I see it clearly.”
“Come then, let’s go examine them.”
Quintus lead them across the field until they stood before the three newly caged slaves. All three stood hunched, knees wide apart. Tears rolled down one of the men’s faces as they harvested the wheat, the other two had red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks in the dust that covered their cheeks.
“Well, my latest slaves. How are you doing? Settling in? Do you like your new jewellery?”
All three men stared sorrowfully at the senator but none spoke up.
“Well, cat got your tongues?!” Quintus demanded.
“No sir,” one of the men said taking the initiative. His voice was strained with pain.
Valens looked down. The testicles of all three men were bruised dark purple by their newest adornments.
“Not so good sir. These… these claws are agonising.”
“Yes, they’re supposed to be painful. I don’t want you lusting after my daughters. Or running away. I am the only one who can remove them. If you make a break for freedom, you’d better be willing to wear those for the rest of your lives.”
“I’m sure we could work much harder without them,” the slave ventured, struggling to speak through his pain.
Quintus laughed loudly.
“Nice try! Yes, I’m sure you could but then how could I ever trust you out of my sight?”
The three men looked forlorn.
“What, no answer?” Quintus taunted in a mocking tone. “And that is why you will continue to remain caged until you earn your freedom. A soft cock is a safe cock.”
The three slaves looked at him in silent misery.
“Shall we return to the villa?” Quintus said to Cassius, changing subjects as though the slaves’ acute suffering was trivial to him.
Cassius glanced at the caged slaves one last time.
“Certainly, my friend. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to give me another cup of wine from that jug you had Aulus bring?”
“Of course, of course. I just need to collect something on the way.”
They headed towards Manfred. As the two men set off, Valens glanced at the three slaves’ caged testicles again, then at their sad faces. They looked back at him. He felt sorry for them. To be at the mercy of an owner like this must be unbearable. He them a tight smile of commiseration and empathy then followed his father and the senator.
“Manfred come with us. I need you for something.”
“Right now dominus?” Manfred asked.
“Of course now. I’d hardly ask you now if I wanted to see you next week would I?”
“No dominus. Sorry sir.”
Despite his earlier bravado and his swagger around the other slaves, Manfred was as eager to please as a puppy. In fact, he was positively excited. Was the master going to breed him already? He’d only been here a few hours and he’d already squirted a hefty load of cream on the senator’s command earlier. His previous owner preferred him to abstain from masturbation or sex for a week at least before being put to a female. Sometimes his cock was caged a month or two. Those times drove him almost crazy with lust but the payoff was always worth it as he deeply seeded a comely girl.
The master never bred him with the plain or ugly girls. What was the point in making broods of ugly brats? As a result, Manfred was always horny and eager to fuck on his master’s command, and he saw no logical reason why Faustus would want to breed him with ugly women either. His cock started to inflate at the thought. Quintus looked down at the large cock, curved at half mast, as it rose its head in interest.
“See how quickly his cock rises? Manfred could be a very good breeder.”
“Yes,” Cassius agreed.
They returned to the veranda with Manfred and Valens in tow.
“Please take a seat Cassius. You too Valens. Aulus can pour you both a cup of wine – or water if that is still all you want to drink Valens.”
“Thank you sir.”
Quintus nodded to the singularius standing patiently, and one of them grabbed Manfred from behind, holding the slave whilst his partner quickly tied ropes to the man’s wrists and ankles. Manfred was large and lithe, but he was nothing compared to the huge size of the senator’s protectors.
“Have I done something wrong?” Manfred asked, panicked by the unexpected turn of events. “Am I to be whipped?”
Quintus did not deign to answer him. Instead he watched in silence.
The ropes attached to Manfred’s wrists were thrown over wide spaced, heavy wooden beams that formed a trellis support at the open roof of the veranda. The singularius pulled the ropes, drawing his arms far apart, before tying them off. Then they did the same to the ropes around his ankles, pulling his legs so wide that his feet were off the ground shaping his body into an X.
“Master please? How have I displeased you?” Manfred begged.
Quintus stood before Manfred.
“Displeased me? You have done nothing wrong. You have a little too much swagger for my liking. That’s a trait that all breeders share. As though you actually did anything to earn these.”
He reached between the man’s thighs and gripped Manfred’s large testicles, then he squeezed slowly until Manfred grunted in pain.
“Not to worry, you’ll soon lose that swagger once I fit this.”
Quintus lifted an eagle claw in front of Manfred’s face. Manfred stared at it for a couple of seconds until he realised what it was. Then he started struggling wildly against the ropes that held him, twisting like an insect caught in amber.
“Master no. Please! I thought I was to become a breeder? I’ll serve you well. Please not that.”
“I don’t need a breeder. I need a good worker and you’ll serve just perfectly once you’ve been properly brought down to size.”
The look of disappointment on Manfred’s face as he realised he was not going to become a breeder and was not going to escape the others’ fate, was almost comical.
“Please! I can be humble. I’ll work so hard for you. Anything but that!”
Quintus walked behind and dropped to one knee, looking through Manfred’s spread legs to Cassius and his son. Manfred’s large, heavy nuts hung silhouetted between them like fruit in a sweaty scrotum. Quintus grinned, knowing the power he wielded.
“He’ll be a lot quieter soon enough,” he explained.
His two guests watched with interest.
Quintus opened the eagle claws wide: Not to their maximum extent, but far wider than he would for the average man. Then he gripped Manfred’s large left testicle and lifted the left claw around it, arranging the testicle so that it was lying horizontally in the cage, its length going left to right, with its cord on the inside. Quintus twisted one of the two keys that were already inserted, and tightened it, watching both the horizontal and vertical claws close around the testicle. Then he pulled the key outwards a little way and continued to twist. The vertical steel claws continued to close around the middle of Manfred’s testicle. Quintus stopped turning when the claw was pressed lightly but not tight against the man’s testicle. Then he switched to the right testicle and repeated the procedure.
“Is that it?” Cassius asked.
Manfred shot him a look of pure hatred.
“No of course not. Just trapping them in place. Now to tighten them.”
“How do you know how much to tighten?”
“With a man’s stones, they can take a lot more squeezing around the middle than on the ends. That’s why I compress from the ends only. It causes a deeper pain. I use a simple method of judging. Look closely. See each of his stones is the shape of an egg? I simply tighten until they are round like a small tomato. That usually means I have squeezed it to about half of its length.”
Valens crossed his legs protectively. His testicles ached in sympathy at the mere thought. Cassius smiled slightly at his son’s instinctive reaction.
“In Manfred’s case, I will go a little further just to totally eliminate his swagger. It’s impossible to swagger when your stones are half crushed and your prickle is thin as a finger!”
As Manfred heard his fate, he resumed his struggles anew.
“Master nooooo, please, I’ll do anything!”
Cassius turned his smile to Manfred now. He knew only too well that the man would do anything regardless of whether or not his stones were crushed. It was never for slaves to pick and choose what they would do.
Quintus pushed the key in deeper so that it activated the horizontal claws and started tighten the right testicular clamp. Almost immediately it started to hurt, and Manfred redoubled his struggles, twisting one way, then the other, constrained in each direction by the ropes that pulled his arms and legs outwards. He alternated between groans and screams as he tried to cope with the rapidly escalating pain in his testicle.
Manfred’s testicle started to deform and Quintus continued, heedless of the man’s obvious discomfort. In under a minute, the man’s enormous right egg was crushed spherical, squeezed on both axes like an over-stuffed pillow. Manfred screamed, tears rolling down his face as he discovered he was no more courageous than the three men who had been members of his party on the cart.
Quintus moved to the other testicle and started to tighten. Almost immediately, a stream of yellow urine squirted from Manfred’s now-slender penis, and fell to the floor.
“They all do that,” Quintus explained conversationally. “No man can hold his bladder if you squeeze his stones hard enough.”
Manfred howled continuously now. Valens continued to watch but the man’s pain made him queasy. He was not in favour of cruelty to slaves. If it was not for their utility around his home, he’d rather they were all freed.
Soon enough, Quintus completed his task. The connected eagle’s claws clasped Manfred’s testicles in their excessively tight embrace, squeezing the joy out of them, and leaving him instead with an acute pain that travelled all the way down his sciatic nerves as far as the backs of his knees.
“See that shivering?” Quintus said, pointing to the insides of Manfred’s thighs. “That’s when you know you’ve got it right. It’s an automatic movement. They can’t imitate it. When their legs start trembling like that, you know they will not be able to get hard. Look how thin his cock is Valens. Yours is thicker now.”
“That must be so painful,” the boy said.
“Come here,” Quintius said.
Valens approached the senator. Quintus lifted the boy’s tunic then reached inside his subligaculum. He rummaged around until he found the boy’s right testicle. He squeezed its middle between his finger and thumb. Valens tried to show courage in front of his father.
“Quintus?” Cassius said, mildly concerned.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do no permanent damage.”
He was was unrelenting. Valens drew his knees together, then lifted one leg off the ground defensively. He gripped the man’s wrist trying to pull his hand out of his underwear. Eventually, the teenager let out a pained squeal.
The senator released him and pulled his hand from the boy’s loincloth.
“What do you think? Painful?”
Valens’ face was screwed up in pain on the verge of tears, and he struggled to breathe. He nodded.
“Yes,” he said in a squeaky strained voice.
His father laughed out loud.
“That’s teach you not to say foolish things boy!”
Quintus turned to the singularius. His mind was back on business. He glanced at Manfred.
“Untie him. I want him straight back in the fields. When the others see him so timid and tearful it will ensure that he loses his swagger forever.”
The men untied Manfred and supported him by lifting his arms around their shoulders. He staggered down the veranda steps with their support, sobbing as he went.
“Oh, and when you’re done there, bring Linus and Tulio back with you.”
One of the men nodded.
Then they headed back to the wheat fields with Manfred.”