Memoirs 5

As with previous parts of these unattributable writings, matters are discussed that do not conform with modern concepts of morality and behaviour and it is once again urged that they should be kept from the eyes of those not of a sufficient age to read them.


Sympo has urged me that when I write of boy slaves I should do so in the manner that men speak of them and indeed use the words those boy slaves themselves use. He argues, and though he is but eleven he has already some ability to dispute, that if I do not so, I do not present a true account of these times past and present and thus defeat my own intentions.

I believe I sense a plot against me when Mato comes to his aid.

“I know you like my cock,” he says, “That when it is soft you much enjoy holding both it and my balls in your hand, and when hard you use both hand and mouth to bring it to shooting forth my seed for you to taste and eat. Why then do you not write that, but write instead that I give pleasure to your eyes and mouth with my front? And though you have not yet written of it, will you write also that you find pleasure with your mouth and fingers in my rear, and not that though your cock can no longer get hard enough to go inside me, your fingers and tongue make much use of my hole?”

“This is a learned work,” I protest, “I write so scholars in some distant future time may gain understanding of our city and of how we live now, in what to them, will be a distant and forgotten past.”

Mato surprises me now by questioning if my enjoyment of boy slaves, though and perhaps because of age, may differ in detail from the enjoyments other owners found in their boy properties, was not the essence the same?

“Do not all men own boy slaves so they may enjoy the pleasures to be found in the bodies of those?” he asks.

My eyebrows lift in surprise; I had not believed Mato to have intelligence sufficient to dispute, and must confess that I had taken him from a farm at the age of ten for his body and the evident delights that would provide, and had given then, nor later, any consideration to his mind.

Why, Sympo demands to know, had I not taken Mato earlier? Was it that his body had no attraction before he became ten?

Patiently I attempt explanation of the economics of boy farming, how if good profit is to be obtained from a crop it must be sold to satisfy the varied needs of those who purchase it, and how many men wish for boy slaves of six or eight, and others though fewer, hold to a belief that the greatest pleasure to be found is that obtained from a fresh and unused boy slave of ten when he is entered for the first time.

“You must remember,” I tell Sympo, “That we talk here of farmed boys, bred and reared for the sole purpose of providing men with pleasure, and from an early age they have become familiar with the use of their mouths to provide pleasure.”

“By learning how to suck a cock,” Sympo bluntly and crudely interrupts.

“Indeed so,” I agree, and as Sympo has spoken bluntly I reply to him in the same manner, “And as those who are not harvested at six or even eight, grow older, they become aware by nature alone and with no need for instruction, that there is another place that may be used for cock to enter them, and by the age of ten their bodies develop a desire to take cock inside them there, and such boys sell for the highest price of all.”

“Why Mato,” Sympo persists, “And not some other boy? All boys have holes for fingers, tongue and cock. Why, when you had choice of all, did you pick Mato?”

“Because he has a splendid body,” I say the truth, “And it seemed most evident that as he grew from boy to youth, his cock would grow to one that would provide me with endless delight.”

“Which I hope much that it does,” Mato grins at me, knowing well that it does so indeed.

“There can be no doubt,” I explain as clearly as I am able, “That whilst he is a boy, pleasure is centred in the mouth, though some men find it also in the rear, but as he turns from boy to youth it is the front that provides the greatest delight to men who truly appreciate the delights to be found in the bodies of such. To bring a youth with a splendid cock to seeding in his mouth is amongst a man”s greatest pleasures.”

“And a boy”s,” Sympo grins, “I love eating Mato”s seed.”

“As do, I,” Doro cheeps, “But I also like it much when our owner pokes his tongue in me at the back.”

“It cannot be,” Sympo becomes again the budding philosopher, “That there will ever be a time to come when men do not keep boy slaves for their pleasure, for it is the most natural thing for men to use boys for pleasure, and natural also for boys to be used in such a manner.”

“Indeed,” I say, bringing this discussion to a conclusion, “I cannot conceive how men could live with any happiness if they were deprived of the delights of boys.”

In truth I cannot conceive that men could live with happiness in such a world, yet for some time now have I had fears that they may have to do so.

Now as I peruse past years I can see that the seeds of such catastrophe were already planted, indeed that the first shoots were visible if men had eyes to see.

The very lands that Niko and I now farm, though at my advanced age I take no part in farming now, were once filled with wild tribes providing a seemingly endless crop of slaves, and thoughtlessly our city harvested them until the land became barren and none were there left to harvest.

The treaty I concluded with a tribe to do our harvesting for us from lands too distant for it to be economically not viable for the city to harvest for itself should have konyaaltı sınırsız escort been warning sufficient, but for many years that arrangement provided us with bumper crops and all believed those good times would last forever.

Now the numbers harvested in the wild are dwindling and the demand for farmed boy slaves grows each year, though, in truth, that demand has made me very rich and wealthy.

In my middle years, those years in which a man”s desires are at their height, I could easily afford to keep a stable of fifty and make good and frequent use of all and presented my indulgence as being of general benefit to the economy of the city.

Boy slaves, I said in my role as philosopher, were the keystone of the economy of the city.

A man makes purchase of a boy slave, I declared, to use for his pleasure; and let us for the sake of argument say that he finds his pleasure in boy slaves of six, as many men do. That same boy slave will be sold again and probably again as he ages and so keep money circulating, until  he is sold for a final time, not then as a boy slave to be used for pleasure, but as a slave to work the fields, quarries and mines or whatever task his owner makes purchase of him for.

Without boy slaves, I argued, men would have no outlet for their desires, would grow frustrated and unrest begin to grow in the city. Men would eventually rise in revolt against the city magistrates, demand a Council that would provide them with the boy slaves they had need of, and this would inevitably lead to a war with another city so that city could be conquered and their boys taken as slaves.

There were some who expressed belief that war was the answer should there come a time when a slave shortage reached to crisis, and there were those indeed who advocated it, proposing that by conquest of other cities we would not only acquire a large number of slaves, we would also reduce the competition for whatever wild stock there still remained.

Some philosophers made this the subject of their dinner talks and a faction began to grow in its favour, and I took the opportunity of keeping myself in public notice by refuting it, a matter that required no great intelligence. Wars, I explained, are lost as well as won, and should our city fail in an attempt to conquer and enslave a neighbour city, then we and not they would become the slaves.

These dinner discussions, designed and intended at the start only as entertainment, in the course of several years became a matter of serious discussion and deliberation in the City Council as we discovered that other cities also were beginning to suffer from shortages in slave supply.

All knew and understood that a shortage of slaves for labour would affect agriculture and public works, but those were matters that could be dealt with. A simple reduction in quarrying and building would release slaves for work in fields, and though fine new buildings would not be built, still would the city be provided with food to eat, but the morale and mental health of citizens would be in great danger if they did not have boys to use for their pleasure.

These disruptions to our life were still a long way from becoming anything approaching reality and though men talked of them they closed their minds to the evidence; boy slaves were still in plentiful enough supply and most assumed they always would be.

I could see most plainly though that this would not be so.

The farms that Niko and I had established were yielding now a regular and steady harvest, but already it was clear to me that the crop we produced did no more than keep the numbers of boy slaves available in the market at a steady level.

It is important to keep in mind the numbers involved to appreciate the hugeness of the problem that would inevitably eventually arrive. The city had some ten thousand adult men living in it, and each of those men owned at least one boy slave, and all who could afford the cost of purchase owned more than one. I, at the height of my wealth and need owned fifty and was not alone in keeping a sizeable stable for my pleasures. Even now in my almost declined years, I own three, and they sufficient for my needs only because my needs are much limited by my years.

Yet still are there many nights when Mato retires to sleep with empty balls and unable to rise to the hardness required to enter Sympo, so great has been the use I made of his splendid cock.

I estimate that, to maintain the health and well-being of the citizenry at its present level the city must have some fifty thousand boy slaves, and a very minimum supply of five thousand new each year.

To provide a farmed crop of such a number would need a stock of some twelve thousand breeding females and a stud stable of a thousand males to service them, and it became obvious to me that the city”s demand for new boy slaves would have to be reduced.

My warnings of the dire future to come, of the time when only the very rich could afford to purchase even a single boy slave, so few would there be available in the market, would I knew go unheeded, coming from one who owned fifty, and at the age of sixty I made the self-sacrificing decision to retain possession of my entire stable, selling none till it became too old to use for pleasure of any sort, turning with age from youth to young man.

Even those I did not sell but returned to the farms from whence they had come so they could sow more seed and new crops be grown. Those I did not replace, thus depriving myself of young mouth for pleasure and schooling myself to find delight instead in the younger youth.

In truth such was no great hardship; as I recalled konyaaltı türbanlı escort the teachings of Ephebophilos and the pleasures I enjoyed by his use of me when I was his boy slave, and employed those same techniques he had used on me on my boy slave youths when I enjoyed them, I discovered the truth he had so devoutly searched for.

The body of the older boy and the younger youth is filled to the brim with pleasure waiting to be released, and as he turns from boy to youth his mind is also filled with the need for the pressure of that pent up pleasure to be eased for if it is not, it sours within him.

This development of the mind, I became convinced, comes as the cock begins to grow, and though I must ask for my rambling to be excused, it being my age that causes my mind to wander, I make no excuse for my choice of words; men and boys both know of what a cock is and of the power it holds over them and I believe it fitting that I speak here of it as it is and do not attempt polite language to conceal the desires it creates.

Boy slaves make acquaintance with cock at an early age, learning to take it in their mouths and to consume the seed it produces when it is pleasured, but they have no understanding of it as a cock, nor do they relate it to the tiny thing they have between their legs. They know only that they provide pleasure to their owners by the use of their mouths and have no knowledge or understanding that later they will be called upon to provide their owners with pleasure by having it enter them in the other place.

It is my belief that for most some understanding of the nature of the pleasures they provide begins at probably the age of nine when the thing between their legs begins to grow most often hard, similar in nature though not in size to the ones they take so often in their mouths. Then do they begin to understand that they too have cocks, and cock, as it is wont to do, invades their minds.

Cock, as all men know, is a demanding master, and if a man is willing to cast his mind back to when he was a boy and youth, he must perforce admit that the demands upon him made by his cock were even greater then than now they are. He becomes desperate to find pleasure with his cock, and desperate also for the pleasure another”s cock may give him.

For boy slaves this craving is easily and often satisfied; even if he is owned by one who takes no delight in the cocks of young youths and uses them only to enter and ride, a well-ridden youth may be brought to seeding, his cock untouched, just by the riding of him, and this, I am certain, because he knows he has cock inside him and longs to use his own cock for such a purpose.

But what of the boy who is not a boy slave? The boy who is the son of a citizen? Does he not have those same desires? The same craving to use and be used by cock?

Use certainly he will make of it, the custom of the city being that at thirteen, a son is presented by his father with a boy slave for his use, both for his pleasure and for his health”s sake, for at that age a boy”s balls begin to grow and swell from holding the seed he now makes, and if not emptied with regularity they could swell to a monstrous size and doubtless eventually burst.

The sons of citizens know well the pleasures they obtain by the use of their cocks, but of the wonders of being used they know nothing. The learned Ephebophilos made claim that all boys, be they boy slaves or sons of citizens, are designed both to give and receive pleasure and said that he found no difference in the pleasures he obtained from both, nor in the ecstasy he could produce in them by the skilful and sophisticated uses he made of them to satisfy their inner needs and desires.

True he had not used a sufficient number of the sons of citizens to proclaim his theory as definitive, and for myself I had but Niko as my evidence, who, when my pupil, had contrived to be beaten soundly and often and wished he were a boy slave, so great was his need to be used for pleasure and satisfy his desires.

This, though, was sufficient for an idea to take root in my mind, and rooted once it began to grow and I sought a way to bring it to the minds of citizens.

Sympo has been reading my words aloud to Mato who is standing opposite me and has not restored his kirtle to his body since he permitted me to pleasure both him and myself with my mouth on his splendid cock, understanding my nature well enough to know that as I write of boys and pleasure now I will take delight and perhaps some inspiration from the sight of his uncovered form.

He grins when Sympo speaks aloud my words, pleased and proud both that a man finds his unclothed body a delight to the eye, and Sympo pretends to sulk as he is not yet of an age to have a cock that arouses desire.

“It will grow soon enough, Sympo,” I assure him, “Already your body churns as your cock makes attempt to expel seed you cannot yet produce when you are used for pleasure, be that by me, Mato or Doro.”

Sympo is forced to grin also; he adores the uses made of him, as any boy should.

Doro, of course, has not yet discovered that he has a cock but knows well enough now the pleasure he finds and takes from having one in his mouth and he whines with happiness when tongue invades him from the rear.

I wonder at times if I should have Sympo enter him. Sympo I know would do that deed most willingly but I do not know if such would be a pleasure yet also for Doro.

But to return again to my tale, for I know my boy slaves will be of no interest to any who may in some distant future chance upon these words.

There was not then and is still not, a noticeable konyaaltı ucuz escort shortage of boy slaves for sale in the market – the city has been ever fortunate that traders from distant lands bring exotic specimens to our market, though in no great number and the prices for them are high, it is a steady and regular supply of luxury items in addition to the twice yearly harvest of the wild crop and the now monthly harvest from the farms.

For those who paid attention to such matters though, a decline, though yet small, could be seen. Where once there had been a glut now there was sufficiency only, and stories began to reach us that other cities were encountering problems, and one, far distant Puerpolis, had been obliged to introduce rationing and no citizen there now permitted to own more than ten.

Here the slow reduction in numbers harvested raised little concern; the average citizen could still buy new each year and the wealthy fill their stables as they pleased. It was the poor who began to suffer and murmurs of discontent began to be heard as those poorer citizens found themselves obliged to purchase items that would once have gone unsold and been sent to serve in the city”s baths.

It was to those citizens I first presented my thoughts arriving uninvited at a district assembly, my reputation as philosopher and farm owner sufficient for me to be permitted to make address.

Many were the discontented comments that were hurled at me as those poorer citizens bewailed the increasing prices of boy slaves in the market, they proclaiming the obvious that no man may be expected to live a healthy and productive life if he has no boy slave for his bed, and such were the comments that I wished to hear.

“Of course,” I told them, “No man can be happy and healthy in his mind unless he owns a boy slave to use for pleasure and relief, but consider what is a boy slave but a piece of property, no different from any other property save that it lives and breathes and has a mouth and hole that may be entered for your pleasure? A boy slave is your property, you own it, but do you not have others in your dwellings that have mouths and holes the same as those of the properties you own? Do you not all have sons? And is not a son by law the property of his father? You own your sons no less than you own your boy slaves, in that they are both your property there is no difference between them. Make use then of your sons, for they will cost you nothing, or if you find you have no wish to use your sons, exchange them with another and use his and he yours. All boys, be they sons or slaves, have mouths, holes and cocks. All may be used for pleasure and all have within them the same desire to be so used. Complain not that you have no boy slave for your bed while you have sons that go unused.”

So I spoke to them, and in that most basic of ways so my words would not be mistaken, and indeed my words were heeded, for now, some twenty years since I spoke them, men of the common sort make full and proper use of their sons, and of their neighbours” sons as those neighbours do of theirs.

Soon enough, I made prediction, the city may have no need of boy slaves other than those the farms produce as fathers use sons for their pleasures and older brothers take delight in younger ones, and only men who have not yet bred sons, or those who have sons grown beyond an age when they are able to provide pleasure more, have need to make purchase in the market.

Yet now I have come to believe that my prediction will be unfounded as the harvests of the wild crop diminish year by year and the farms can produce no more than they now do. Not in my remaining time of life, but in a future not, I believe, so very distant, the wild crop will fail completely and disaster will befall the city. Already I hear stories of the wealthy seeking to purchase the sons of the poor, and of, in dribs and drabs, men leaving the city in the hopes of finding a better place to live where boy slaves are still in plentiful supply.

Boy slaves are the life blood of the city, for when the use of them for pleasure is finished, they become the slaves who keep our city working.

Without slaves how may our buildings and parks be maintained? Without slaves how will our food be grown?

Slowly our city, and all other cities like it, will decline and crumble into dust.

I have been most fortunate in my long life; I have been a boy slave and learned so much of the pleasures and delights of being a boy used as a boy should be used; I have been a wife and a tutor and learned in that occupation the pleasure to be found in beating boys, and of the pleasure they find also in being beaten; I found fame and then fortune in military matters and fortune more in the farming of boys for harvest and sale and I have taken delight in the bodies of more boy slaves than I can number.

The only regret I find I have is that I shall not live long enough for Doro”s tiny cock to grow sufficient for me to use it, though I hope to last for long enough to have some taste of Sympo”s seed, for the sweetest seed of all comes from a boy who has just begun to make it.

Mato”s seed is plentiful and has a delightful thickness to it, and gazing at his splendid softness I find I have desire to take him again in my mouth and have him feed me.


No more has been discovered of the unknown writer”s words and the reader must judge for himself if what he has read has authenticity or is an elaborate fake.

It may well be that the writer”s predictions that his society will come to an end through the careless over-use of a natural resource – in this instance the natural resource being boys to take as slaves – are prophetic, or equally may be a recently constructed allegory of our own civilisation; as a mere Editor I pass judgement neither way.

I must however, urge readers if any such there are, to make donation to that splendid archive known as Nifty where writing such as this are filed and stored so men may be both entertained and educated.


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