Vignettes - The Slave Boy

Wanting to purchase a boy, I had arrived at the market early-so I was standing at the front when they brought him out.  By the gods, he was beautiful-beautiful enough to be a girl, but handsome enough to be a boy.  Curly brown hair formed a soft cap for his head.  He had large, almond shaped, eyes, full lips, a dimpled chin and a straight nose.

About eight years old, he was obviously frightened.  Tears ran down his face.  Wearing only a slave collar, he held his hands over his groin in an attempt to cover his genitals, moving one of them occasionally to wipe the tears from his face.

Well formed with long legs, he had a full, rounded, ass.  Moving his hands, the slaver revealed a small, little boy, penis and acorn size balls in a tight sack.  When forced to smile, the boy exhibited perfect teeth.  The slaver, folding him over at the waist, spread the cheeks of his butt, revealing a tight, pink, hole.

Wanting him, I checked my purse, wishing I had brought more money.  When he'd been led out, a soft murmur had rippled through the crowd.  His beauty had attracted more than just my attention.

From what the slaver told us about him, he'd been captured when our soldiers had conquered his city-the son of an aristocrat, possibly a chieftain, who had died in defense of his city.  Perhaps, he had been the man's heir, destined to be rich and powerful, had we not conquered them.  He would have owned slaves-now, he was one.  I wondered if he knew what fate awaited him.

Free, he would have had wives and sons.  Slave, he would have neither.  They would take his small cock and balls, neutering him, leaving him smooth as a girl.  It would preserve his beauty, but he would never know manly pleasures.  That pleasure he would experience vicariously, observing it in those who used him, filling his ass with their seed.

I bid for him, but the bidding quickly exceeded the coins I'd brought with me.  Even if I'd brought more, I couldn't have afforded him.  I wished I hadn't seen him.  Other boys would pale by comparison.  How, now, could I be satisfied with another.  Every time I looked at him, I would think of this boy.

The man who bought him was old and fat-but rich.  He had him neutered there in the market while I watched.  If I had bought him, I don't think I would have.  I would have let him keep his cock and balls-for another year or two at least.  Of course, I would have had to take his balls before he got his man hair; otherwise, he would have lost much of his value; but, possibly, I would have let him keep his little cock.

Strapping him to the gelding table, the cutter tied off his ball sack-then snipped it off with a pair of shears.  Next, his little cock was cut off in the same manner.  Rags were diapered about his crotch to quench the flow of blood.

When strapped to the table, he had began screaming one word over and over in his alien tongue.  Even without any understanding of his language, I had known that he was saying, "No...no...no."