A Slave Becomes a Man
Rome 64 b.c.
For the past few years, Andros, Evander's father, has been a frequent comer of the brothel I lived in. And since they worked together in the butcher shop his father owned, Evander would join him here, though Evander insisted in not partaking of the women available. He'd been married recently and was quite in love with his wife. Cornelia I believe her name was. So consequently, we spoke often. I'd never had anyone I would ever consider a friend until I met Evander. He was charismatic, which I frankly found arrogant and annoying, but he had a good sense of humor and was big hearted, so I did my best to forgive such a flaw as arrogance. After all, his good qualities far surpassed those of his bad, and it was nice to have someone to talk to.
Today was a day like any other. Evander and I were sitting together in one of the showing rooms talking about whatever there was to talk about. We'd been friends now for about seven years now. I'd discovered that Evander was a natural born politician. It's a shame he wasn't born in a higher class. He would've excelled in politics no doubt. He would often tell me about things the Roman senate was doing and what laws were rumored to be spoken of. He even brought me new scripts when he found out I could read. He was stunned to say the least that a boy born into whore slavery would know the alphabet let alone how to read and write.
"So what are you making, Titus?" I brought the wood a little closer to him so he could see it.
"It's supposed to be a cat. I saw one perch on the window sill in my room and I really liked the position it was in. It looked really strong and confident." Evander smiled a little.
"Only you could ever see strength and spirit in a simple house cat, Titus." I shrugged.
"It keeps me entertained. When you live in a whore house, you look for beauty in anything you can. It's the only way I stay sane." Evander smiled.
"I'm amazed there's any sanity left in you. Then again, I'm also surprised that you can read and write. Most slaves are lucky if they can speak Latin." I shrugged.
"I would hope I speak Latin. I was born and raised in Rome and Pompeia speaks Latin."
"Why do you insist on calling her Pompeia? She's your mother."
"What's your point?" He sighed.
"She's your mother, that's my point. Don't you love her at least a little?"
"Evander, I have as much love for my mother as a spider has for a fly. She's never shown me an ounce of affection, she's never taken care of me, she's never said a kind word to me or defended me when I was wrongly accused of doing something wrong. She doesn't deserve for me to call her mother."
"Why hasn't the owner of this brothel sold you then?" I shrugged.
"No one wants me. She sold me to one other person and the man demanded his money back because he always caught me snooping through his stuff and reading his stuff and beating me for it never worked." Evander laughed.
"Are you so used to it?" I nodded.
"I don't even feel it anymore. You should see the scars on my back."
"I'd rather not. It would make me feel bad." I rolled my eyes a bit.
"And we all know your feelings and health is what should be foremost in our minds." Evander laughed again and sighed. He was quiet a moment, so I assumed he was done talking.
"Hey, Titus, I have an idea to I want to share with you." I kept my eyes on the block of wood I was carving, but let him know I was listening.
"And what's that?"
"What if I bought you?" I laughed without humor.
"Is there more to this idea? I can't say I like it so far."
"Don't worry, there's more. What if I were to buy you, free you, then you could work for me at the butcher shop my father and I run?"
"Your father knows who I am. I doubt he would allow me to work for him if he knows I was a slave."
"He would if he knew I was the one who bought you. My dad and I trust each other, so he would let you into the business if I give my good graces."
"Be that as it may, that doesn't mean he'll treat me with respect. I won't stay if I'm not being treated respectfully." Evander grinned.
"I understand. I come here often, so let me know when you've thought about it and have an answer for me." I nodded.
"I'll think about it." He laughed a little again.
"I can't believe you have to think about an opportunity to be guaranteed freedom." I shook my head.
"It's not a guarantee. For all I know, you or your father could put off hiring or freeing me, then before I know it, I'm still a slave, just under a different master." Evander shook his head.
"It won't. I promise. You know I wouldn't do that. Even if I were to do that, you're too smart to let that happen. You'd take matters into your own hands and run away and I'd never see you again." I smiled a little.
"I'm glad you know that."
"Of course I know that. You're a headstrong guy and you don't take getting shorthanded. I respect that immensely. That's why I offered you a job."
"I know, Evander. And I appreciate it greatly. That's why I'm seriously considering it. But you understand my concern, and that's why I would like some time to think about it." Evander smiled and nodded his head.
"You'll always have a spot at the butcher."
"I appreciate that, Evander. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Titus."
Shortly after that, Evander's father came back downstairs and told Evander he was ready to leave. I waved goodbye to Evander and he whispered to me to think about his offer. I told him I would and we waved goodbye to each other. When he was gone, I went back upstairs and continued carving the piece of wood. I was done with the body. All that was left was the face, which would be the hardest. I wanted it to be expressive the way it was when I saw it on the cat.
About an hour of working on the face as carefully as I possibly could, I finished it. I was really proud of it. Even the blood marks on it from the many times I'd cut my fingers complimented it in a way. It looked like it had small spots. It was kind of cute. I put it on the window sill where I'd first seen the cat and felt really proud of myself when I saw it.
I wasn't surprised that I fell asleep without mother in the room. This was one of the days when men would come in late at night after hours of drinking. They were usually drunk of their ass, so it was hard to predict when they would come in. It was the end of the work week for some people and they would come to the brothel to let off some steam.
I was a few short breaths from finally falling asleep when I heard the door to the room slam open. I was alert again, much to my dismay, and moved off the mat and to the corner of the room so Pompeia and her customer could have the space without argument. Neither of them acknowledged me as they went about the transaction.
Once they started, I rested my head against the wall trying to get some sleep. With all the noise in the room, I was having a really hard time falling asleep. I could normally sleep through noise, but this drunk in particular was rather loud. It was extremely obnoxious, even if he was drunk. Despite that, I did my best to ignore them so I could sleep.
But then I started hearing noises that were relatively odd. It sounded like someone's airways were being blocked and they were trying desperately to breathe. I opened my eyes and saw the man's hands around Pompeia's neck with her face turning red and trying to force his hands away from her. With no luck, she turned her attention to me. Her eyes looked pleading and expectant at the same time. I didn't bother helping her. She didn't deserve it.
The more I ignored her, the more wide eyed she became, though I suspect the act of being strangled had great deal to do with that reaction as well. She tried speaking, but all that came out were chocking bits of air forced from her lungs. Despite what he was doing, the man kept moving trying to reach his release. It was rather obvious that he got a thrill from watching someone die while he was having sex with them. An odd fetish, but I wasn't one to judge. Around the same time he came, Pompeia stopped twitching all together and her body was lifeless, though she kept the same horrified eyes from when she was fighting for her life. I wasn't even ashamed to say that the site made me smile. A just deserts moment if you will.
When she stopped moving, the man let go of her and her head plopped on the ground lifelessly. I didn't even flinch at the site. He stood away from her lifeless body, his own still undesirably exposed, and looked over in my direction. I almost laughed at this man and the look on his face. His face was beat red and he had this unusual drunken grin on his face that made me unsettled. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was planning to do next. Thankfully, there was still a large piece of wood in the room that I'd been planning to use for something else.
I'm sure he saw me as weak and defenseless judging by the way he charged at me with a deep throated featherbrained laugh. I stood from where I was sitting and waited for him to be the right distance away from me before I slammed his head with the large plank of wood, making him fall to the ground. He seemed angry and attempted to get up, but I wouldn't allow it. I kept hitting him over the head over and over again. Eventually, he stopped moving, but that wasn't good enough for me. I couldn't stop.
I kept hitting, never stopping or wanting to stop. Hearing the sound of his skull cracking provided an odd sense of satisfaction that I'd never felt before in all my life. I found more joy in this moment than I ever thought was possible.
When I finally did stop, his face was virtually nonexistent and his skull was shattered into several pieces with brain tissue hanging out, torn into several of their own pieces from the trauma to the head. There was only one part of the whole moment that scared me. It was the fact that I was beginning to laugh shamelessly. The blood, the brain tissue, the look of fear in my mother's eyes, the limpness of their bodies, it all struck me as morbidly funny. It was that much funnier to me that I was able to do this all without a shred of remorse and brush it off with the simple sentence, 'They deserved it'.
When I finally had control over my laughter, I looked at everything again and remembered that I had just committed murder. I could get in a lot of trouble for this, more trouble than I'd ever been in before. If I took the bodies out to the hallway, there would be no getting them outside without Miss Renata or her daughter seeing me. I looked at the window and considered that as an option. I walked to the window and looked outside to see where the window looked out.
I was on the second floor, so it was a relatively long way down. But from what I could see, there was a gutter in an alleyway next to the building where my window was. It was perfect. All I had to do was throw them out the window, sneak out of the building so I could push them into the gutter, and they'd never been seen or heard from again. No one will know what happened to them. It was a well known fact that if a murder ever happened, the bodies were often dumped into the sewers. Of course, the authorities never did a thing about it. If a person went missing and the victim's murder wasn't witnessed, that meant they were gone, no questions asked.
With a plan in mind, I went back to the man and Pompeia and started getting them closer to the window. Pompeia wasn't as difficult to lift as the man. He was about the size of a horse give or take, only far less majestic and certainly nowhere near as beautiful. Since the man was going to take the most work, I saved throwing him out the window for last. I picked up Pompeia and almost effortlessly threw her out the window and she landed right in the gutter below with no witnesses to her falling there.
Then I started trying to get the man out the window. As I said, he was tricky. It took all the strength my legs had to lift him to the window and push him out. I heard a loud bang when he hit the ground and I stood still a moment, waiting to hear for any other disturbances so I could cover for myself. Thankfully, there was no other sounds besides those of customers and whores screaming in fake and true ecstasy. Some whores were so used to this lifestyle, it was hard to tell when they were faking or really having an orgasm. But after living in the brothel for so many years, I knew the difference by now.
I looked out the window and noticed a vine was growing on the side of the building. I gently pulled the vine. It was growing against and into the stone wall, so I knew it was sturdy. I tried my luck and grabbed a hold of the vine and gently jumped out the window and tried climbing down the wall. Luckily, the vines were strong enough to hold my weight as I climbed down the wall. When I got to the bottom, the rats from the sewers were already investigating the bodies.
I shooed the rats away as quietly as I could so no one in the streets would hear me and pushed their bodies through the hole that led to the sewers. I heard their bodies hit the ledge, but only the man went into the water. I held my breath long enough to climb down, kicked Pompeia's body into the water, then climbed out and inhaled the semi-fresh air. I looked around to make sure no one saw me and started climbing up the wall again when it was clear. Before going back into the room, I looked around to make sure no one was in there and hopped back in when it was clear.
I already had my alibi ready. I was in the room and I saw them both fall out the window and run away. Customers often tried to get away without paying the bill and slaves running away happened all the time. And Miss Renata knew me well enough to know that if I'd in fact witnessed all this happening, I wouldn't have done a thing. She's a pretty dim candle, but even she was smart enough to know I didn't respect her enough to look out for her profit. I may even tell them I was asleep the whole time and avoid any further questions all together.
Once I listened for a moment to make sure no one was coming in, I went back to my little bed and tried to fall asleep. To my surprise, I fell asleep quickly and slept peacefully. There were no nightmares, no feelings of guilt, nothing to disturb my slumber. Oddly enough, it was the best sleep I'd had in years, if ever. Even my dreams were pleasant that night.
The next morning¸ I was forced out of my sleep from the force of someone's foot hitting my stomach. I was slammed against the wall and opened my eyes with a groan. When my eyes were open, I looked up and saw a look of death on Miss Renata's face, but didn't give her the satisfaction of looking scared. Instead, I stood on my feet and looked down at her waiting for her to talk. I was about five inches taller than the woman, so that was gratifying for me.
"Where is she?"
"Where's who?"
"Don't play stupid you little shit. You know exactly who I'm talking about. Where's Pompeia?" I fought the grin that wanted to play across my face and kept my mouth as a hard line.
"I don't know. I never saw her come to bed. I fell asleep as soon as I came back to the room. I was tired."
"Bullshit! I know you know where she is, so tell me!"
"I don't know where she is Miss Renata. You're guess to her location's as good as mine." She was silent a moment, but she never lost the suspicious look in her eyes.
"You don't know where she is?" I shook my head.
"No I don't, Miss Renata."
"Well, I've lost a whore and was stiffed by a client all in one night. That's just fantastic." She rubbed her face and glared at me more fiercely. "You're replacing her, you know." This took me by surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Titus. If I can't make money off your mother, then you'll just have to replace her. You've been a deadbeat in this brothel for fifteen years. The least you can do is take over in your mother's absence."
"I'm not one of your whores, Miss Renata."
"You're the son of one of my whores. A slave can only give birth to another slave, which is what you are."
"And I've done slave's work for you, but this is something I won't do. I've been belittled and pushed aside all my life. I won't be reduced any further to a cock sucking whore." Then Miss Renata slapped me across the face as hard as she could. It stung, but I still didn't flinch.
"You'll be reduced to whatever I say you'll be reduced to. Now get downstairs so you're ready for line-up."
Making sure I couldn't say another word, Miss Renata left the room, slamming the door behind her. I wasn't planning to go downstairs, so I stayed in the room and started working on something else that was in the room. I wanted to make another figure to join the little cat I had on the window sill. I was starting to get some definition on the little dog's head when the door to my room opened and I saw one of the other whores walk in.
"Has it ever occurred to you to knock?"
"Shove the sarcasm up your ass, Titus, and get downstairs. We have a few customers that are new here and they want to have both male and female options."
I was silent and stared at her angrily for a moment. Without any way to argue out of the situation, I put the little dog on the floor with the knife and walked with the whore downstairs. I figured I didn't have much chance of getting picked anyway. When I got downstairs, Miss Renata told me to take off my shirt before going in line. When I refused, she forced it off me herself and threw me in line.
There was a man in the room sitting on a fluffy pillow in the room looking at us closely, trying to pick who he liked the best. Miss Renata introduced us all by describing what he would like about us, like I had tan skin and was young, fresh, and innocent, another was fresh off the boat, and so on. I noticed the man was looking at me rather closely and it made me extremely mad. I gave him the meanest look I could so I could intimidate him out of picking me.
"So have you decided which one you like the most?" The man looked down the line trying to remember everything Miss Renata had told him. When he looked over everyone in line once, he looked right at me again. I sneered at him again, trying to discourage him from picking me.
"What did you say about this one?" Miss Renata looked at me again, then at the man with a smile.
"He's been in the brothel for years, but he's still pure. He's never felt a woman's warmth nor has he been penetrated himself. He's the cleanest whore here." I glared at Miss Renata for her choice of words. The man looked intrigued.
"So he's a virgin you say?" Miss Renata nodded her head.
"Clean as spring water." The man laughed a little at her statement. I never stopped giving him a dirty look, even if it seemed to be doing me no good at this point.
"I can tell. He looks desperate for me not to pick him. Am I to assume that he's a tough kid?" Miss Renata smiled nervously.
"In a manner, he is. But don't worry, he won't hurt you." He laughed again.
"I'm not worried about him hurting me, Miss Renata. I've been in the army for twenty years. I can handle anything this kid tries to throw at me." Miss Renata smiled widely.
"Does this mean you're picking him?" The man nodded and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wouldn't let this happen. "Excellent! Now he is a virgin, so he's worth a little more money, but I promise you he will be worth every cent."
"I know he will. He's a good looking thing. I can't wait."
"Excellent. He'll be waiting for you upstairs." Then Miss Renata grabbed a hold of my arm and led me to the stairs, pushing me to walk upstairs. "Now you get up there and make me some money." Then she walked back into the room to handle the money situation. Miss Renata usually lets the customer wait until the end to pay. But it would seem she wasn't planning to take that chance after a customer 'stiffed' her.
I already had no intention of letting this man anywhere near me. The only question was how would I get out of this unscathed and with as little potential trouble to myself from Miss Renata as possible. I thought about it all the way to my room, trying to go over every possible strategy that came to my mind. When I got back to my room, I looked in the direction of my little wooden figurine that I'd been working on, then remembered that I had a knife in this room. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as I thought it would be. All I had to do was threaten him with the knife and kill him if he refused to leave me alone.
I went over and grabbed a hold of the knife and faced the door. I was ready and waiting for him to come to my room for what he paid for, but I wouldn't let him have it. I waited a moment with the knife in hand before I heard the tell tale footsteps in the hallway that told me he was on his way to my room. I tightened my grip on the knife in anticipation. I could feel a sort of adrenaline rush as I heard him get closer and closer to my room. When he opened the door to come into my room and saw the knife in my hand, he laughed to himself and closed the door.
"You really are a feisty one aren't you?" I grinned a little. I'm not sure why I did. Something about this situation just struck me as funny. "You think you can kill me with a knife alone?"
"I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you." He grinned at my challenge and started walking closer to me at a slow pace. I kept the knife up and ready and walked back, but never gave him the satisfaction of a look of fear.
"You should take your own advice, boy. You're up against a captain of the army. A mere slave like yourself doesn't stand a chance against me and my brains and strength. You'll be on that floor with my cock slammed in your ass before you can blink." I grinned and blinked, just to taunt him.
"Interesting. I've blinked and yet I'm still standing."
"Ah, so you're a smart ass. I don't usually like a smart ass. But I must admit, on a handsome boy like you, it's rather cute."
"I'm interested to see if you still feel that way when I carve this knife into your stomach. I know just where to cut you so your digestive system will be slit and kill you slowly and painfully."
"Do you now? Well then, little boy, let's see what you've got."
I half expected him to charge at me and I was prepared for just that. But he didn't move towards me. Instead, he looked confused that I wasn't charging towards him. I did what he did and held a defensive stance. He didn't take me seriously, so it wouldn't be long before he lost his patience with me and tried to come at me. All I had to do was wait him out. As I predicted he would, he lost his patience and grabbed a knife from inside his sleeve. Once he had that, he started moving cautiously, still not charging at me, but coming closer and closer, waiting for me to attack.
I didn't back away when he started coming closer to me. That would make him charge at me and I had the feeling he was a faster guy. The guy from last night had been a bent out of shape pig and wasn't hard to avert. This guy was different. He was a younger soldier and was perfectly capable of holding his own in a fight. I stayed cautious and never took my eyes of him and never let him be behind me. When he was close enough that he was satisfied or had finally had enough, he threw his arm up and was about to stab at me. I dodged, managing to miss the blow for the most part and escape with just a cut on my shoulder. When I was off to the side, I took the opportunity to stab him myself.
But he was faster. He grabbed a hold of the hand I was about to stab him with and made a move to stab my stomach. Once again, I dodged and got away with just a cut on the side of my body. I kicked him in the crotch as hard as I could and he made one yelp in pain and looked on the verge of tears from the pain. He even looked like he would vomit. I didn't waste any time. When he was on the ground cringing in pain, I stuck the blade in his mouth and he looked horrified. The look on his face made me laugh.
"It's weird. I've never had this much power before. Here I am, this lowly slave, and yet I'm deciding whether or not you live. It's almost overwhelming how good this feels." He sneered.
"You'll pay for this." I grinned.
"Only if I get caught." I came slightly closer to him. "Only if you live to tell the tale. And as I'm sure you've guessed, that won't be an option for you."
Then with a swift movement of my hand, the knife went through his skin and he was left with a huge bleeding cut on his face. He bent over for a mere second, then looked up, about to attack again. I just kept grinning and ran the blade over his throat. He stood still, eyes wide, as blood poured and some got onto me. I could even see the bone of his neck. Something about that was immensely pleasing. I watched him lose blood and eventually collapse with his horrified eyes wide open and his body limp on the ground.
I listened for a moment, making sure that no one had heard me or what happened. When it sounded clear, I threw the knife against the wall and looked at the window. The man already paid, so I couldn't say he hopped out of the window and stiffed us. Even if I tried that, I wouldn't be able to hide the fact that the floor was now covered in blood. I looked at the window and an idea came to my mind. No one would say a word if I were to climb out that window. It would be hours before anyone at this brothel noticed I was gone. I smiled thinking I'd finally found a way out.
Just like I'd done last night when disposing of the bodies, I climbed out the window and used the vines to climb down the side. I kept my eyes in the direction of the streets to make sure no one saw me. There was a couple in the ally, but they were too busy with each other to notice me climbing down the wall. When I was on the ground, I looked around again to make sure no one saw me. Once it was clear, I walked out of the ally, the couple completely ignoring me, and went to the streets and tried to look unsuspicious, hiding the scratches on my arm and waist.
I had never been there before, but I knew where Evander's meat place was. Some of the better known stores were near the coliseum, so all I needed to do was circle the coliseum until I found Evander or his father. It took forever to find it. I was beginning to get dizzy from the loss of blood. Even though the wounds weren't nearly as bad as they could've been, I was still losing a lot of blood and it was making me lightheaded. It was nightfall by the time I finally found the shop and it looked like they were about to close it off. I saw Evander sweeping and started walking as fast as my dizzy legs would take me. Evander glanced up, then down, then looked up again when he realized I was walking towards him.
"Titus? What happened to you? What's wrong? You're bleeding." I tried answering him, but my voice was weak. I was about to lose consciousness. I didn't bother trying to stay awake anymore. When I reached Evander, I fell into his arms and all went black.
I woke up to the feel of something cool on my forehead and the sting of alcohol being put on my wounds. I woke up violently and the woman attending to my wounds screamed in surprise. I backed away from her while she stood from her seat next to the bed and Evander ran in with concern on his face.
"Titus, it's okay! This is my wife Cornelia! She was only trying to clean you up. You don't need to be afraid." I looked at Evander and Cornelia and tried to calm my breath.
"Where am I?"
"You're in my home. Don't worry, my father hasn't seen you. I took you here when you lost consciousness." I finally calmed down a little and rested on the wall.
"Oh. Thank you, Evander."
"So tell me what happened." Evander glanced at Cornelia. "Could you give us some privacy, my dear?" She smiled and nodded her head, then smiled kindly at me before walking out of the room. When she was gone, I sighed.
"A client murdered my mother. He tried to attack me, but I killed him. I threw them both out the window and into the sewers so no one would find them. I went back in and slept for the night and pretended to know nothing when Miss Renata interrogated me. But with Pompeia dead, she made me replace her. The first client she gave me was a soldier. I killed him and left through the window and came here. I didn't know where else to go."
"It's alright, Titus. Everything's okay now. I'll take you to the court house first thing tomorrow and I'll free you. Once you're free, Miss Renata won't be able to do a thing. You will be legally free and a Roman citizen."
"She'll have a warrant out for me."
"It doesn't matter. Once you're free, she doesn't have any legal permission to take you back. And since I was the one who freed you, I'm the legal owner."
"How does that make sense?"
"It's politics, Titus. It doesn't have to make sense. Romans are generally too stupid to know they're being fed bullshit."
"So you can just walk me into the courthouse and demand to free me?"
"Yes I can. You already know how to read and write, so all you have to do is fill out a few forms that make you an official freed man. Nothing to it."
"I don't know what to say, Evander."
"Say nothing, my friend. It's sometimes best. You won't be my slave, but my employee at the store father and I work at."
"Would your father approve?"
"He doesn't know you like you think. I don't really tell him about you because he doesn't usually care. Father and I share a business and that's as close as we get."
"Then why did you always go to the brothel with him?"
"It was his way of trying to make me a man. Now it's just kind of a routine. But regardless, you have nothing to worry about. Just come over, ask for a job, I'll 'interview' you and give you the job and there won't be any problems."
"And you're positive this'll work?"
"More certain than I've ever been about anything." I sighed.
"Thank you, Evander."
"It's the least I can do. When Cornelia finishes up with you, then you can get some sleep. You deserve it."
I thanked Evander again and he walked out with a smile. When he was gone, Cornelia came back in and finished cleaning my cuts. When she was done, she wished me goodnight and walked out, leaving me be. I was relieved to be alone. And I was relieved to be in a real bed. It was the best bed I'd ever had the pleasure of sleeping in. I was finally free. And I couldn't think of a single thing that had ever made me happier.