Jeff had barely assimilated the meaning of his transformation when the programmed memories rush into his head.
As if out of nowhere Jeff recalled things that had never happened to him in his comfortable, twelve-year-old
existence in Milwaukee. His name was Remus. That's what the Romans called him, anyway. He was sixteen,
though he looked a little older. He has been bought and sold numerous times since his village was conquered
by invading Romans when he was twelve. And he never saw his parents again.
He recalled it all -standing in the burning heat of Rome's grand slave market, the wandering hands
feeling all over his body -chest, arms, legs, penis. The bargaining was the worst part. Being treated like
an object infuriated him, and yet made him want to cry like he never had in his life.
Then he remembered who his master was. Out of the memories at the slave market, a young boy -no older
than he, appears out of the crowd. He is tall. Handsome, by all means. Dark, slightly curly black hair and
a fair complexion. His muscles bulge smoothly under his toga -a Roman citizen, no doubt. But his eyes! Such
intense eyes! The slave boy trembles looking into them. Jeff is being felt all over. The Roman seems
pleased with Remus, carefully stroking his blonde hair, cupping his bum cheeks, smoothing a hand over his
chest and back possessively. Suddenly, Jeff feels his prospective owner feeling over his balls. He seems
pleased.
And then, with one smooth move, the boy begins to massage the slave's member. It grows long -Remus is
instantly aroused. The boy smiles even more seeing the slave's responsiveness. Jeff feels a wave of
inexplicable sensations through his body, but he's not sure if he likes it.
The Roman boy calls out something to the auctioneer -Jeffs's Latin is not yet good enough to fully
understand it. And he's still in a daze. But hesitantly, when he looks up, and realizes that a new neck-
chain has been put around his neck. The Roman boy holds the other end of the collar, as Remus's naked body is
tugged mercilessly by those strong hands. Jeff's bare feet thud down from the auction block, obediently -he
has no will to fight back now. He has been sold.
"I am Caius. You may refer to me as Master, boy. You are my slave. My boy-servant."
With a hard, painfully firm jerk at the chain, Caius tugs his slave boy to the carriage. The master
rides inside the litter, carried by other young male slaves who look weary and miserable from their running.
They are all Germanic, by the looks of it. Wavy blonde hair, strong smooth arms and bare feet. Jeff gulps as
he is collared to the suspension poles. His new life has