30 comments/ 58113 views/ 67 favorites The Gladiatrix By: Midnight_Flux [Notes - I refer to the heroine, Meda, as an Ethiopian as this is what the Romans would probably have called her. In actual fact she is from an area now found in modern Sudan. -Coruncanii is a fictional town.] -------------------- - A few miles away from a little village in East Africa, close to Meroe (Sudan) 1 AD - Meda peered through the long grass, keeping her breathing low and careful as she watched the leopard chew the oryx leg that had placed out. With excitement she clung to the bit of rope tied to one end of the oryx leg. Her twin brother had already failed to tame a leopard of his own, and thus had proven himself unworthy of the title of leader of their rapidly growing clan, that at the count of the last full moon, were two hundred heads thereof. Unlike her brother who was too impatient and lazy to track a leopard, she had tracked this one from the dyed red length of rope that she had kept as a collar around its neck since she had first encountered it when she managed to briefly isolate it from its mother. For two weeks of every three years she had patiently come back, isolated the cub, sometimes fought off the mother and sibling without injury to them. Then keeping the cub tied to a tree she would feed it, call it by the name she had given it; Cothut, before untying the leopard cub and releasing it near its family. Now thirty six moons on, Meda was close to taming the leopard, having taken the advice of her mother, chieftainess of the village, and unlike her brother, she had vowed not to return to the village until she had completed her task. Under her breath, she prayed to the goddess Amesemi for her protection, then little by little she tugged the rope. "Come now little one, though you are not so little now. Let us see if my mother's tricks have worked, I pray they have." Cothut followed the food in puzzlement as it moved, his paw lightly darting out, until Meda emerged and looked at Cothut. At first Cothut was very still, but then he pounced. Meda was knocked flat on her back onto the grassy knoll behind, and cursed herself for not being more agile. But before she could ready herself to meet the god Anubis boldly she felt Cothut traipse off her and then roll around playfully. Meda, shaking somewhat got up, dusted herself down and warily approached Cothut. "Oh my! Thank Amesemi that my mother was right! Thank Amesemi!" Meda tentatively picked up a small sack she had left close by, opened the cloth and gave Cothut some scraps from the meat carcass she was carrying. She stroked Cothut's ears, as her mother had suggested. Cothut munched away at the meat Meda offered and muzzled her hand. "Come Cothut, I promise you no harm. Once the villagers see you as proof of my triumph then I shall bring you back home, where you belong. Finally! Maybe my mother will even allow me to marry." -------------------- From afar a small group of men watched as Meda, overjoyed and feeling protected by her leopard companion, travelled down the trail that she had created over the years. Her secret spectators watched her keenly. One of the men said, "That is your sister, Meda, right there? Skin like dark bronze, a body like a goddess?" "I would have her! Such tits! Such arse! She certainly stirs the cock!" Another said. Their group leader scowled at them, "she can stir the cock all you wish fool, but you are not putting your cock in her, she is worth much more as a virgin, too much for your meagre coins. The girl has more to offer than your average village woman, we have to be sensible here." Mena's brother, with a tense but deviant look upon his face, nodded and responded, "She is a great gymnast too as my mother, for whatever reason, favoured her over me for such training. She is literate in Meroitic and speaks three dialects spoken five clans wide. Her beauty is so renowned that one prince in Meroe has asked to be introduced, though I doubt he would have done so if he knew she was so stubborn and unrelenting. Also, as you can see, she is very skilled in animal hunting, and apparently training." "Why is it that she is training a leopard? What a way to occupy one's time." Mena's brother responded, "It is thought by the village elders that whoever can tame a leopard can also tame a village, for both require patience, fearlessness and wisdom. I could easily have done so myself, but my mother has always made her favourite clear and seemed to forget my presence during training." "Well, she will not be able to forget your presence now. So tell us again, what is this plan of yours?" -------------------- Meda talked to Cothut the leopard, occasionally feeding him meat scraps as she walked through a meadow towards the village. Other creatures that would ordinarily approach her to do her harm scampered away at the sight of Cothut. Meda felt empowered by her friendship with the leopard. She neared a part of the trail where the avena grass was thick and tall, as were the songs of grasshoppers. "Let us not worry, though this part of the path always fills me with trepidation." Meda said softly to Cothut. She took a few steps forward, but heard a loud rustle, she stopped and crouched, stroking the leopard's ear as she did so, "Wait, wait, I have my spear if it is anything bad." The rustling got louder until a man emerged, making her heart quicken, until she saw that man was her brother, "Pakatucho, what are you doing here? You are far away from the village." Pakatucho smiled such a smile that his lips curled back, "So are you dear sister, and what is this, a leopard?" Cothut licked his own paw and predatorily stared at Pakatucho. Meda hastily fed Cothut a scrap of meat, "I have done it Pakatucho, trained my leapord Cothut. Thirty six moons it took, but I have done it. Perhaps we can walk into the village together?" "Yes, yes, and let me carry your spear for you." Pakatucho said eagerly. Meda did not trust her brother as she had sensed the envy in him for the many years they had trained together, "That is okay, I can carry it myself." "And what am I to defend myself with if your new leopard friend attacks me?" "Well if you insist, though I am surprised that you did not bring your own spear." Meda saw a certain fire burn within her brother's eyes. She did not trust him but she thought it unwise to tell him so. She handed over her spear reluctantly, and stroked Cothut. Though she should have been more weary of the wild leopard than she was of Pakatucho, she felt that it was the one she could trust. They walked together, making idle chatter over village affairs, of village characters and their escapades after having one too many gourds of sorghum beer. They spoke of the rain they had recently received as a blessing from their gods for all their hard work tending to the land. Then Meda heard another scuffle from the bushes. "There is something in the bushes, give me a spear, perhaps we can kill it and take it back to the village." "Don't worry sister, I also know how to use this spear. Just stay there sister, stay still, stay still..." Pakatucho crept on ahead as Meda stood still and Cothut waited faithfully by her side. The leopard growled again, increasing Meda's sense of unease. Suddenly from the back Meda could hear a whooshing sound of something dropping overhead and realised it was some sort of trap she had walked into, the leopard tried to run but was also caught by another net. Meda cried out in the confusion. "Pakatucho brother, help, it is a trap!" Five figures emerged, three of them with dark bronze skin like her and Pakatucho, and the other two with light copper complexions, like some of the people further up north. She had only ever seen such people when they visited for trade. Pakatucho chuckled darkly , "Oh poor sister! On this great day when she was to be a chieftainess, she will be a slave. When you have ascended to such great heights, the plummet can only be painful." The men clambered on top of her laughing as she struggled, "You bastard! Why? Why?" "Well, I heard there were men hunting for leopards and good hunters for the empire of Rome. I thought, why deprive them my sister, who will fetch a handsome price in any auction. In exchange, they are giving our village two ox and Persian cloths. And of course, more personally they are giving me a clear path to the chieftaincy." One of the dark-skinned men spoke to her in a dialect she understood, "Now now pretty girl, you will fetch a good price for your brother tells us you can even walk on your hands as well as some walk on their feet. As for your leopard, it will make good game for slaughter in the arena." Later that night, bound and captured, Meda watched as the men shook Pakatucho's hand. Tears ran down her face in helplessness as the reality sunk in. She looked at Cothut, who was in a wooden cage and prowling around. "I am sorry friend, I have betrayed us both with my naivety." She lowered her head in shame, only glad that her captors, due to their greed for money, gazed lecherously at her nude physique, but had not forced themselves on her for the price that her virginity wielded. Whatever else she would lose on her journey to the slave block, at least she would retain that. -------------------- -Coruncanii; a Roman town somewhere in the Diocese of Viennensis (southern France)- Gerulf watched his cousin Amelia, a brothel -madam or as his Roman compatriots called her, a lena, weave and sashay through the crowds, her orange tunic swinging like a flame towards the auction block, her face a white mask of lead powder and her cheeks rouged with vermillion. When she got to the front and readjusted her blond wig, she beckoned Gerulf, her heavily kohl painted eyes crinkling as she smiled. Gerulf was tall enough to see over most of the heads of the crowd, he saw six women, of varying complexions and from different lands, stand on the block with their heads lowered, in ragged tunics. Those who were sourced from outside the Roman empire had one chalked white foot. These slaves were apparently skilled, and thus fetched a high price. He did not feel good being there with Amelia, having not been long away from the block himself. He worked his way through the crowd towards the front to join Amelia. As he did so, his gaze naturally caught the curvaceous but athletic frame of a woman whose skin was dark copper. She stood upright, not looking into the crowd or down to her feet, but straight up to the sky, as if she were silently praying that her sun god would blind those around her and rescue her to the heavens. Despite her bedraggled appearance Gerulf could not help but admire her, for she was the sort of woman that even the gods would look upon in curiosity. She had a sweet and beautiful face, with very full lips that spoke of a sensuous nature and big dark eyes that could easily mesmerise a man, all framed by woolly, twisted hair that hung to her shoulders. He caught up with Amelia who was grinning like an excited fool, "Can you remember Gerulf when we too stood on the block, to be slaves? Who would know that I would one day become the owner of such a frequented business, and you would one day become a gladiator of such prestige that you would win your freedom? Ah, how far away we are from the simple life of the Black Forest." "I enjoyed that life Amelia, this life we have, I never asked the gods for." Amelia looked up at her tall, blond cousin, and shook her head, "I say it is a good life, certainly a more civilised one! And now those who were slaves can afford their own, such a splendid fortune! I do hope they will unveil these slaves soon, already I have my eye on the Ethiopian. I have two Gauls, one Persian, three Greeks, from milk to olive complexions, but an Ethiopian? What a palette that would be! Then all men in this town of Coruncanii shall say that the house of Venus Kisses has nymphs from all the lands ." Gerulf saw Marcus the theatre owner throw his hands up in frustration, "Hey trader, where are the cards around their necks? How are we to inspect them with these ragged tunics that you have clothed them in? By the rate this is going it will soon be sunset and my supper shall be cold!" The trader, Arvina, a fat man with a crooked back came staggering out, evidentially drunk. Arvina slapped one of the auction slaves on the bottom, she squealed in distress, "No worries my friend, for I present you with the finest female slaves amongst the chattel that we have out in the back. Weavers, cooks, gymnasts, hunters, amongst many other things, do not take this private showing lightly my friends, this is an opportunity to purchase a fine bitch indeed for your bidding!" Arvina's trembling, pudgy hand grasped some wax tablets, intended to be placed around the necks of the slaves and which had enscribed upon them their personal details and skills. He walked towards one of the slaves, a pale brunette woman who cowered away from him. He grunted in satisfaction as he callously yanked off her tunic from over her head, mortified, she cried out. He did this to each woman and placed the wax tablet placards around their necks. Amelia shook her head, "What a fool Arvina is, why did he not prepare them earlier?" But Gerulf was not listening, he was gazing upon the Ethiopian slave, wondering who she was, and of her former life. The Ethiopian looked up, caught his stare and looked away. Gerulf felt a frisson within him, for he knew she probably looked upon him in fear, but he could not help but feel some satisfaction from attaining her notice. "Ah, so you like that one? Gerulf who now only sleeps with his patron has finally found an eye for the women?" Amelia teased. "It is not just her appearance, there is something else about her." There were very few Ethiopians in Coruncanii, and Gerulf still had a habit at looking with open curiosity upon those who were as dark as he was pale, but there was more to it with this woman. He could not remove his gaze from her. Arvina introduced the slaves, whipping each of them to turn them around, and introducing their skills; seamstress, cook, dancer, musician, midwife. Arvina had one final slave left, the Ethiopian, before he was rudely interrupted by Marcus the theatre owner, "And what of the gymnast and hunter, what of them?" Arvina scratched his balls nervously through his toga, "Well, um-" He gesticulated at the Ethiopian, "A woolly-haired Ethiopian princess, huntress of leopards and gymnast from a village not far from Meroe in the African kingdom of Kush. She is beautifully formed, with good teeth that confirms her youthfulness, and as a bonus, she is a virgin as fertile as the land she comes from. She is one of a kind. Good points are that she is agile, brave, healthy. Bad points are that she speaks no Latin or Greek, she is stubborn and there is a concern she might be aggressive." Marcus smiled, "I think I might be in love, let us see her then, turn her around." Arvina got out his whip but then she turned and stuck her elbow sharply into his gut, Arvina clutched his belly then showed her the flat of his palm, as if to hit her. He then approached cautiously, his intoxicated gaze fixed upon her. Marcus laughed, "Please do not hit her Arvina, she is very much mine. She will do well as a gymnast in my theatre. Let me have her for 600 denarii." Gerulf looked at Marcus enviably. Amelia gazed thoughtfully at Gerulf and then turning her attentions back to the block, called out loudly "650 denarii." Marcus looked round at Amelia in incredulity, "725 denarii then, and what on earth could you need a skilled worker for? I thought the only skill employed in your whorehouse was to lie flat on your back and spread your legs? " Amelia pouted in disdain and started to quarrel with Marcus, each insulting the business and reputations of the other. Whilst Marcus had the better argument, Amelia had the loudest and shrillest voice. Gerulf heard something from behind, it was Panhsj the grumpy Nubian trader from the Roman North African territories, "Psst! Gerulf, your cock is showing through your toga, even citizenship cannot refine a barbarian such as you." Gerulf turned around to see Panhsj, a bald and skinny black man who was smirking at him smugly. Panhsj hitched up his overly-long toga as he walked towards the front. Gerulf sighed at the unwelcome company, "What are you doing here Panhsj? Have you come just to cause me grief?" Panhsj raised a superior eyebrow and cocked his chin, "Do not flatter yourself Gerulf, I have heard there is a Greek here who is a fine seamstress, and the slaver who purchased her told me and me alone she is also a weaver. I wish to obtain her for my new shop." Gerfulf said nothing, as he did not enjoy conversations with Panhsj. He watched as Amelia and Marcus became breathless with argument. Finally Amelia cried out, "Well you will need to find yourself another acrobatic bitch, this one is mine. 1000 denarii and I know you are broke Marcus from your renovations to your theatre. Try and top 1000 denarii and see if you can feed your entertainers for many moons." Marcus stared incredulously at Amelia, "Ridiculous! A complete waste of talent. There should be legislation to stop someone like you being able to buy slaves such as she." Amelia smiled and tipped her head, "Not a waste of talent, what man does not seek an acrobat in the bedroom? I know my clients do." Marcus gazed in contempt at Amelia and muttered, "Cruel whore!" He picked up his satchel, beckoned his companion, and walked off. Arvina slapped the bottom of the Ethiopian woman and cried out, "Sold! To the lady in the orange tunic. Come, come, let me bind her and you can claim your purchase." Gerulf shook his handsome blond head and sighed. Panhsj screwed his lips, "What ails you barbarian?" "Please stop calling me that, and I will not tell you what ails me. I do not feel quite as comfortable being back at the block as Amelia. " "Aah, so even you now know what the whole of Coruncanii knows. Amelia is bad company; there are few women, even men, who are as heartless as she." "We were kidnapped from the same village by mercenaries who pillaged the place before burning it down. She is my cousin and the only surviving family. I remember her when she was gentle as a lamb, before either of us were enslaved." "And now she is a rabid dog. Rabid dogs bite even the kindest of masters, I would be careful Gerulf." Amelia turned round, and smiling, beckoned him over. Gerulf looked at the beautiful Ethiopian woman, trying to place the inappropriate feelings of arousal in the back of his mind. Not that it helped that it had been a while since he had fucked a woman. He strode over as Amelia stood by her new and unfortunate slave who gazed at her dubiously. Her hands had been tied together by Arvina after her purchase by Amelia. Amelia cooed at the girl and stroked her hair. The girl was very still, only her dark eyes trailing Amelia. Gerfulf had once seen that look when a new animal trainer at the gladiator school was stroking a crocodile, before the crocodile bit the trainer, spun round and severed the trainer's torso from his legs. Gerulf could see that whilst the girl was enslaved, she was by no means pacified. "What a wonderful purchase. What is your name?" Amelia waited for an answer but greeted with silence she nodded her forehead at the girl, goading for a response, as if to indicate that it was the girl's turn to speak. Gerulf gently shook his head at his cousin's futile attempt to communicate to someone who knew no Latin. Gerulf watched the girl respond in a foreign tongue. Panhsj who was standing nearby, inspecting a Greek slave girl stopped and listened to the Ethiopian avidly. He then spoke to the girl in her language. A Roman guard who was standing nearby cast them a weary gaze, cautious of plots being hatched in languages unknown. The Gladiatrix "Hey, nothing but Latin and Greek here. Watch it." The guard pointed his short sword at Panhsj. Panhsj bowed his head slowly, "I was asking for her name, to assist her new mistress. The girl's name is Meda." Amelia, easily delighted, clapped her hands, "Oh how wonderful, you speak the same tongue as the girl! But I thought you were from the Egyptian side of the North African territories Panhsj? How can it be so that you and the Ethiopian share a language?" Panhsj shuffled his sandaled feet evasively, "I am a learned man, and the girl speaks Meroitic, found towards the south-east of Egypt, in the Kushite lands. Apart from that I know nothing of their small villages and primitive ways. I am born and raised Egyptian stock, in the towering might of their cities." Gerulf raised an eyebrow, "Too loud a protest perhaps." Panhsj, "Pfft! And what would you know barbarian of civilisation and good breeding? All your people care for is fighting, jewellery, sleeping and fucking." Before Gerulf could respond sharply to Panhsj derogatory remarks, Mena looked at Panhsj and said something to him. Panhsj looked at both Gerulf and Amelia deviously and said something in response to Mena. Mena then looked at Amelia and Gerulf, placed her hands to her face and then taking steps back, burst into tears, muttering in her language. The guard stepped towards her but then pointed his blade at Panhsj, "Tell her to shut it, or I shall cut both your tongues out." Panhsj had quiet words with the girl. The girl sobbed quietly to herself, her body shaking. Gerulf took a step toward the girl, wishing to comfort her with a sympathetic touch, but when he stepped towards her, she was horrified. Gerulf growled at Panhsj, "What did you say to her?" Panhsj smiled smugly, "She asked me what she was being bought for. I told her that whilst she had nearly been sold to be an entertainer to a well respected and kind man who treats his entertainers as one treats their kin; she had actually been bought by a half-mad whorehouse madam with a reputation for making some of the sweetest of slaves mad from despair, crippled from cruelty. As you can imagine, she received the news of her fate well." Amelia glared at Panhsj and wagged a finger at him, "No whores for you if you tread the steps of Venus Kisses!" Panhsj laughed hollowly, "Ah, how sad, to be denied the fruit of melancholy women. My life is better and longer for it, I am sure. Farewell." He turned his back on them and flapped his hand as if to shoo them away, then gazed afresh at the Greek slave that had earlier caught his eye. Gerulf clenched his fist, wishing to quarrel with Panhsj. But instead he let his shoulders sag. Panhsj was right; it was preferable to be a cargo mule than to be one of Amelia's prostitutes. -------------------- Gerulf had been surprised by the girl's compliance as he lead her through the streets. However he noticed her eyes dart, and mutter silently to herself. He knew that look, it was the look that he too had possessed when he had been led from auction block to the gladiator training quarters. It was the look of one plotting their escape. He said nothing to Amelia who was uncharacteristically quiet on the walk home. Undoubtedly she was annoyed by Panhsj's insults. As they neared the House of Venus Kisses, Amelia said loudly, "My women are very well cared for. Joyful, far more so than I was than when I was in their predicament. I hope they have not been spreading lies to their clients, sullying my reputation as one of the most generous women of this town. Perhaps I will beat them all until they learn to appreciate their good fortune for having such a motherly mistress. For what is a mother if she does not beat her children?" Gerulf stared at Amelia, he had to remind himself that she was his last blood relative alive, "You accuse the women of betraying you without evidence, and wish to beat them until they behave as if they were happy?" Amelia nodded, "Why not?" Gerulf sighed, "Have you not thought that perhaps there are more obvious ways to make them joyful?" "How so?" "The first year when you had your brothel, can you remember how you used to take them to the baths, allow them time away from the clients? They were happy then, and you had more clients too." Amelia rubbed her lead-clotted cheek, "Perhaps I should tie them to the beds and have sacks placed upon their heads. Then the clients will not see their miserable faces." Gerulf rolled his eyes at his cousin who had evidentially become mad from profit, "Perhaps Amelia, if you treat your girls in a good manner, they will also treat their clients better." "They like their clients well enough."Amelia shrugged stubbornly. They turned the corner; Gerulf could see Venus Kisses close by. One of Amelia's slaves, a red-haired woman called Freda, lay naked outside, save for a small robe around her waist. She was supposed to be an advert for the brothel, however her body was covered in bruises and she appeared to have passed out. Gerulf flinched in disgust. "Amelia that is what I mean. Freda, you have only had her for two months and already she looks well on her way to Valhalla." "Elysium." Amelia corrected snootily. Gerulf turned towards Amelia in irritation. He growled at Amelia, "Listen to me, have you lost every last thread of your virtue? Can you not remember how it was to be a slave, to be at the mercy of another?" Amelia's lower lip quibbled, and she blinked, her eyes becoming glazed with self-pity, "Go hang yourself Gerulf! Today I have allowed you to keep my company, my company! And now you tell me what to do with my purchases-bought with my money! Damned you, and damned Freda! " Amelia walked up to Freda and kicked her in the stomach, the girl moved sluggishly, groaning in pain. Gerulf flexed his fists which he would have used instantly, had Amelia not been his cousin. Amelia turned round and smiled, "See? She is alive. Elysium will have to wait another day for her. " She then shouted at the brothel, calling for her male prostitutes, "Hey Demetrios you lazy vulva licker! Come out here and take Freda in, the girl cannot take the sun. Drag Pyreneus out by his too-fat-arse while you are at it. Seeing as no man, woman or goat want to fuck him these days the least he can do is to help me with my new purchase!" Two heavily-oiled men wearing net fashioned into loin cloths so that their cocks were visible came running out, one picked up Freda and the other took the rope that bound Meda's hands together. Meda looked back at Gerulf, her eyes wide in fear. Gerulf ran his fingers through his hair in frustration; something about the girl had awoken a feeling in him he used to have as a gladiator, the frustration of not having control of one's own fate. Amelia barked out more orders, "Pyreneus! Pyreneus you ugly oaf! Take the Ethiopian to the salon. Now you ugly bastard!" "The salon, right now? You will not feed her first?" Gerulf said in concern. Amelia screwed her mouth up and looked him up and down in disdain, "Pfft! Food indeed! I need her to look pretty, not bloated. Now why don't you go Gerulf, let your patron stroke your cock as always rather than concerning yourself with the affairs of women. Run along hang dog. " Gerulf growled in exasperation, "I am coming back Amelia." "Yes yes, no doubt when you are so drunk that you see twin whores everywhere. Go away Gerulf, you have really annoyed me today." -------------------- "Come now Gerulf, she is not the first to be enslaved to prostitution and she will not be the last, throw the dice why don't you? Then drink your mulsum and sooth your ails." Nikanor said, his blotchy face crumpling as he focused on the dice. He placed a reassuring hand on Gerulf's hunched back before letting it drop to his own skyphos cup filled with mulsum wine. Holding both handles Nikanor drank the sweet alcoholic beverage down like a thirsty fish, inadvertently tipping some of the mulsum wine onto his trimmed grey beard. Gerulf repositioned his large body on the small wooden stool, as he played dice for coins with his three friends, all ex-slaves who had found success after their freedom; Nikanor, Varius and Rufus. Nikanor and Varius were both furniture makers, and Rufus was the owner of the tavern that they were sat in, called "Coruncanii's Finest Vines". All his friends were nearly old men, with Gerulf as their youngest friend and associate. They had met when they attended a dinner at their local college of the Augustales, a society for ex-slaves and freedmen. He had met them through their patron Gaius Iunius Norbanus- a humorous, virtuous man who himself was the son of a freedman, and was running for office of plebeian aedile. "So what is this girl like then? An Ethiopian? Woolly or straight-haired? Not that it matters, I prefer the Greek women, they are not so loud as these Roman women." Varius said, dipping a chunk of bread in the garum sauce that they shared. Gerulf still had not become accustomed to the pungent, fishy taste of garum that the Roman's loved, but he was trying. Gerulf smiled at the memory of Meda, he picked up the three dice and placed it into the clay cup, shaking them so they made a rattling sound, "Her hair is woolly and sweet, like a little lamb. She is beautiful with a dark complexion that is reminiscent of the finest bronze, and a figure moulded by...how would you say it?... Venus herself. And the eyes, they are almond-shaped with a fire in them, beautiful dark eyes." Gerulf's sighed, "But I should not think of such things, a few more days at Venus Kisses and there shall be nothing in her eyes but dull smoke." He kept rolling the dice in the cups as he wondered what mistreatment she would suffer at the hands of Amelia and Venus Kisses lowlier clients. The other men looked at him, "Go on then, throw the dice. Not much good still being in that cup." Gerulf had forgotten about the dice, so he took his hand off the mouth of the cup. The dice tumbled onto the table. Much to his disappointment, his was the lowest score, this made him the dog, making Nikanor the Venus for having the highest score. Nikanor grunted triumphantly, "Dog- your score was the lowest. Perhaps if you ate more garum, Fortuna would think 'this is a real Roman!' and smile more kindly upon you." Rufus leant it and said in his usual low and coarse manner, "Do not worry Gerulf-even a dog can fuck like a wolf. Aditi my barmaid has been talking of how fine a man you are, perhaps I can ask her to keep you company on your pillow for tonight?" Aditi was Gerulf's barmaid from India who had indeed been gazing fondly upon Gerulf, once even dropping an expensive glass cup when she was staring too keenly upon him. "No no, not necessary. Dog in this game, dog in this life." Gerulf responded bitterly. It had only been six months since he was given a wooden sword in the gladiator arena and won his freedom, finding employment as a trainer. However, as with all other ex-slaves in Rome after manumission, he had gone from being a slave with a master, to a client with a patron. He forever held a social debt to his former master and lanista who was called Manius Aquilinus Taurus. For most slaves, this might mean political support, as it did with his three friends, for others they were expected to remain employed with their patron's business or affairs. However for Gerulf, it meant sexually pleasuring his patron. In return, Manius kept Gerulf employed as a trainer at Manius's gladiator school. Laying with Manius was not too difficult as his patron was a handsome and prestigious man, enough to harden the cock for a small time. All the same it was not Gerulf's preference, "A dog, that is what I am. A dog, even with a dice game." "Oh come now Gerulf, I know that look, you are thinking of Manius again. He will grow bored of you one day, you just need to be a little less handsome. He falls easily in love with men with muscles and golden locks." Nikanor, to emphasise his point, scuffled Gerulf's curly blond hair. Gerulf jerked away humourlessly. "Perhaps this is why you like the Ethiopian, her situation reflects your own; forced to fuck men that she cares little for. The only thing lacking for you of course, is the tits." Rufus patted his own chest cheekily. "Manius never forced me, he gave me a choice, and with that choice came better food and sturdier armour for the arena. He was very good to me when I was a gladiator, he is good to me now." Gerulf scooped some goat's cheese from the bowl with his bread. It was delicious. The company of friends and good food were the simple pleasures he had enjoyed the most since becoming a freed man. "If you insist, but it is evident that you are troubled Gerulf. I do wish you would come to the temple of Isis. You are a man in need of a goddess." Rufus smiled, pleased as he watched one of his barmaids disappear to the upstairs bedroom with a regular. He did not force his barmaids to sleep with the regulars, but he certainly gave them a generous tip for doing so. Gerulf laughed, "Not my thing I am afraid." Rufus looked at Gerulf, " Many freed men go there, you are not made to feel inferior as with the other temples." "Being in a darkened room whilst pots of frankincense and myrrh are swung over my head and Panhsj the Nubian looks at me smugly as if to say 'I got to Isis first Barbarian!'? No, I would rather not. " Nikanor and Varius looked at each other, "Suit yourself, but Panhsj is not so bad at the temple, you will never hear him speak so little." "We will see. I still find this idea of temple worship, and worshipping a god in human form very weird. So this new girl of Amelia's, Meda, I do not think she should-" His friends groaned, and even through the flicker of lamps he could see their eyes rolling in exhaustion. "Gerulf, you have gone so long without a woman that you have now become utterly obsessed. Quell your cock, before it quells you." Rufus stated with crude aplomb. They all chuckled at the various images Rufus's words conjured, before returning their attentions to their next dice game. -------------------- Gerulf mused that he had probably drunk too much mulsum as he staggered down the road, nearly being ran over by an abusive merchant in his cart. Venus Kisses was down a newer part of the town so the road was still earthen and many of the inhabitants had not developed the finesse of their better-established town friends. He heard a clay vase smash behind him, dropped from a second floor, clearly whilst the occupants had tried to deposit their household waste onto the street under the cloak of night. He thanked the gods that he had missed the vase, for stronger men than he had been greeted into the afterlife early that way. Venus Kisses...left from Cornelius's Street Foods, straight ahead at the fountain... Gerulf rarely experienced such issues finding Venus Kisses, but in his drunkenness, his senses were in chaos, like intoxicated bacchantes dancing for their wine god. Eventually, after a few wrong turns, he had managed to find Venus Kisses. The light of the lamps flickered, winking into the night, only challenged by the stars that shone above. Sat outside on a bench was Demetrios speaking to a lady who had veiled her face to such an extent that she could only have been a lady of reputation doing disreputable things. Judging by Demetrios's wide smile, this assessment was fairly accurate. Other prostitutes sat outside naked save for robes around their waists, some appearing more defiant or broken than enticing. One of the prostitutes caught his eye and looked away abruptly, clearly hoping to be left in peace for the night. Gerulf suddenly felt some shame sweep over him. What was he thinking? He was about to turn to go when he heard a screeching sound, all of those sat outside turned around in concerned surprise. The cries sounded very much like Meda and Amelia. Gerulf's fierce but precise instinct took over, and despite his intoxicated state, he regathered his thoughts. He jogged towards the brothel, darting into the open door where the smell of sex intertwined with incense. He accidentally stood on a small oil lamp, snuffing it out and seriously cutting his toe on the sharply-tipped nozzle. He exhaled sharply and limped towards the commotion. The sounds became more immediate as he reached the door of the salon where Amelia had her new girls prepared. What he saw shocked him, for Meda held a shard of a broken clay pot to Pyreneus's throat despite Pyreneus's tall and muscular build. Amelia was gazing on in sheer shock, pointing a large bone needle at Meda defensively. Gerulf assessed the room for a hint as to how the situation transpired. Next to Amelia was a monopodium table with a pair of rusty shears and what appeared to be a bright red wig, styled in an elaborate curly bun. "Amelia? What is going on here?" "Ah brother, I am glad you have come." Gerulf raised a dubious eyebrow at Amelia, from being called hang dog to being called brother, his cousin was clearly desperate for his assistance. " This woman, she is completely ungrateful. I brought her a beautiful wig to replace her hair, and look at this, she tries to kill us! Well if it death she wants, then death you shall give her!" Amelia gazed at Gerulf hopefully. "Amelia, I am not killing anyone. Certainly not her, certainly not for you." Meda growled fiercely at Gerulf as if he too were an enemy, pressing the clay shard more closely against Pyreneus's throat. Pyreneus squeaked in pain as the shard began to cut the tanned flesh of his neck. Gerulf wondered ( mostly in admiration) how she had managed to hold Pyreneus hostage as the man was large. "Well something has to be done, I don't want Pyreneus getting killed as he really knows how to style women nicely. Never again will I buy another Ethiopian! They are troublemakers!" Amelia said mournfully, the bone needle she was clutching drooped as her panicked grip weakened. Gerulf assessed the situation; an angry woman who had a man literally by the throat, a mad brothel-madam wielding a needle. As a gladiator he had learnt that the element of surprise was a potent means of gaining the upper hand. He quickly picked up the monopodium table and threw it against the wall close to where Meda stood. Meda reflexively jerked as her attention was broken and she dropped the clay shard. Pyreneus squealed and ran out of the door in terror. Gerulf leapt towards Mena and then taking both her wrists wrapped her in his arms and pinned her wrists against her chest, as if he were forcing her to hug herself. She struggled wildly, stomping on his already punctured toe. Gerulf groaned in pain. Amelia approached with the needle as if to stab Meda. Gerulf instinctively kicked Amelia in the shin, sending her staggering backwards. "Ow! Ow! You bastard! Why?"Amelia cried in pain. "Because you were going to hurt her." Gerulf said. Oddly Meda had stopped struggling as much and he could feel her body relax slightly. "I wasn't going to hurt her, not by very much." Amelia grumbled. Gerulf was unconvinced "If I were to tie her wrists, and leave her to you, what would you do with her?" "There is a merchant I know of who takes pleasure in dispensing with others. I might offer her to him. Not only will he do the job you refuse to do, he shall pay me handsomely for the privilege." Amelia said, completely straight-faced and serious. Gerulf felt nauseous, and in his mind Panhsj's earlier words echoed 'Now she is a rabid dog.' He thought quickly though also somewhat drunkenly, "Amelia, you paid a lot of money for her. I understand you wish for her to suffer, but do you not wish to make a good return on her as she does so?" "Ha! Clever, clever man. I am glad the cousin I love so much is not a fool. How so?" Amelia said, still rubbing her shin. The Gladiatrix Gerulf deviously considered how Manius was seeking new female fighters, but also how Manius never allowed female fighters to battle in a serious fashion as he found it distasteful. Thus he told his virtuous lie, "Why not have her fight in the arena? That is the place to teach disloyal men and women a lesson. If the girl thinks she is so strong would it not amuse you to see if she can try to do to a lion what she tried to do to Pyreneus?" Amelia's eyes widened, "Yes! See how she likes it when a lion eats her! But the money..." "Ten fights, and then you will have made a healthy profit. This I promise you, and I promise you that she will regret leaving your prestigious pleasure establishment for a life of quarrelling with wild beasts." Gerulf thought of the beasts that Manius liked female fighters to battle- ostriches, peacocks and hippos- not quite the wild beasts one considered to be a mortal danger. Amelia sighed, "But what if she dies before I am fully compensated?" "I am sure Manius will compensate you somehow." That was also a lie, Gerulf felt it unlikely that Manius would compensate Amelia, for Manius despised her. Amelia looked uncertainly at Gerulf, "So, what next? I suppose I must ask my patron to speak to Manius, draw up some sort of contract." Amelia's patron was a rather pathetic old man and former client who was infatuated with Amelia and served her every whim, effectively reversing the meaning of master and slave. Amelia had met him when she was enslaved as a prostitute, he had purchased her from her pimp at extortionate sums and freed her. "You do that, and leave her to me. She will stay in my apartment tonight and then I shall take her to the gladiator school tomorrow . Manius owes me a favour, so perhaps this could be it." "Very well, though Gerulf, if she escapes or does not fight for every match she is eligible I will kill all the girls in this house to teach them a lesson as to why not to escape." Gerulf replied nervously, "And you think dead women will learn anything?" "Perhaps not, but the fresh batch of girls I will purchase will learn something when I order them to cut the throats of the women they will replace. I know why you are doing this Gerulf. Perhaps you think you are a hero, but there was a reason you came to my brothel tonight, and it was not to perform some noble rescue. If I was you I would tie up her wrists before you leave with her, just in case." -------------------- Meda felt relief as, with her wrists tied up once again, she was led into the night and away from the horrible place where they were going to scalp her. She knew not what the people that she had encountered were capable of, it was a new land, where the people conducted their lives in ways she had never imagined. Still, she allowed herself to relax slightly, as she had seen the man who was now leading her through the night defend her, and prevented her injury at the hands of the woman in the orange tunic. She could also see from his earnest visage that it was unlikely he would do anything too strange, too horrible to her. She could now refocus on her escape efforts. However, gazing at her captor's imposing form perversely assuaged her desire to escape his company with desperate urgency. Even though she had never seen someone so pale with such straight hair that was as yellow as wheat she still found him attractive. He was very muscular and tall, and was not so much older than her. If he bought her for the purpose of pleasure then Meda felt she could endure such a fate. He looked back at her and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling even in the night. He said something to her, in a relaxed and gentle voice. "Where are we going?" she asked, emboldened by the man's manner. He looked at her, unable to understand her and smiled politely. Meda sighed, at least she had met one man who understood her language, it gave her hope that there might be others, and they would aid her in absconding. Meda wondered what was at her destination as her sandals slapped against the cobbled pavement. It was a long walk, but when they finally arrived her heart gladdened. It was a tall brick building five storeys high, and seemed to be a place where people lived. A watchman swathed in cloak and blanket sat next to the door and nodded at them, gurning his toothless mouth as he rubbed a slender dog curled up next to him. The watchman handed her captor a key. They walked into a courtyard with many stairs leading to various levels. Eventually her captor meandered up a flight of stairs; Small oil lamps in the nooks of the wall lit their path. On the third floor was a balcony overlooking the small courtyard in the centre. They wandered towards the door closest to the stairs. By the door was an oil lamp on the floor which her captor picked up by its handle, still artfully clutching the rope that bound her. His door appeared to have a padlock, which he opened with the key the watchman had handed to him. Then, stepping through the door and into the dark room, he used the oil lamp to light four other oil lamps in his very small room. The man turned to her and said something. He kept pointing to himself, "Gerulf. Gerulf." Meda muttered it back to herself until it sounded right. He nodded and walked in the room. In the centre of the room appeared to be a table with a mattress on it, which Meda guessed was for resting. The man pointed to it, "Bed." He then led her to another small room, and opened the door briefly before closing it swiftly, "Waste." Meda muttered these words back to herself. They turned back into the main room. From across the bed there was a very small table, four clay vases, a large bowl with water with a large wooden spoon, two wooden chests and that was it. But compared to the colourful excess of the brothel its minimal furnishings reassured her. A warm Mediterranean breeze passed through the small square openings in the wall. Meda had already been bathed down earlier with water and oil, after having had her pubic hair removed with some strange stinging substance in the brothel's salon. However she wondered how she would keep clean in the days to come. Was there a river close by where others bathed? Would she have to bathe in front of the man? She decided to check that the name he had referred to himself earlier was indeed his name, "Gerulf." She said. He looked at her and smiled, saying to her surprise "Meda." She forgot that he knew her name already, until she remembered this was the name she gave to the Nubian trader she had spoken to at the auction block, which was how Gerulf had come to know it. She smiled and said again, more boldly, "Gerulf." Her eyes skimming his large body. "Meda." He repeated, though his voice was lower, huskier. His eyes also dropped assessing her frame clad in just a threadbare tunic. She smiled at him, even in the dimness of the night she could see the rise of his hardening manhood through the swathes of his toga, but to her own surprise she felt no trepidation. Despite her terrible situation, or maybe because of it, she felt drawn to her new captor. Even in her village where athleticism was prized it was rare to see one who looked so strong, and his exotic alien features excited the curiosity her mother had encouraged her to cultivate. He then did something odd, but she decided to trust him, for he tied the end of the rope he was holding to her foot. She frowned in suspicion; if he proved untrustworthy she planned to stab him with a shard of broken pottery that she had managed to hide in the hem of her tunic. He then untied her hands and taking one end of the rope tied it to his own foot, effectively tying her ankle to his own, but with plenty of rope between them for freedom of movement. Meda stretched out her hands and rubbed her wrists, sore from the friction of the rope. He said something to her too quickly for her to understand. She cocked her head to one side in confusion. Gerulf then said it again, even quicker. Her hands free, Meda did something that was perfectly normal amongst her people. She approached him and placed her hand to his mouth, which was a playful insult in her village if people spoke too quickly. She felt his surprisingly soft lips, warm breath and then he took her wrist and kissed her palm, he then continued to kiss her, his kisses travelling up her wrist. There was a hungry passion in his kisses. Meda moaned as Gerulf's fingers brushed the skin of her wrist. His kisses travelled higher and higher until they met her shoulder. She closed her eyes and whimpered as his hands then caressed the length of her back before finding her bottom. Tentatively, he lifted up her tunic and squeezed, kneading her exposed derriere in his large, warm hands. The mound of his hardening cock brushed her thigh as his kisses found her mouth. Meda expected a light kiss upon the lips but then he did something that shocked and thrilled her both in equal measure, he slipped his tongue between her lips. Meda broke her head away from the kiss in surprise as this was not how people in her village kissed. She looked at him, his hand still possessively cupping her bottom. She felt dizzy and her heart pumped speedily from the shock of it. Oh Amesemi! What exotic courtship customs there are here, Meda thought. Gerulf also muttered something back and lowered his head, almost guiltily. He allowed his hands to drop, breaking the physical contact. But as he turned Meda realised that he thought she did not desire him. Despite that Gerulf was the one with the power and control he had considered how she felt. Meda suddenly desired him more because of this for she understood that at least for that moment, she was as free to choose him as he was to choose her. She grabbed his thick wrist and pulled him in. He gazed at her, his eyes lighting up. He said something to her and then kissed her forehead. She placed her hands on his strong chest and met his gaze, wondering how this man could be so physically strong. She decided to try his strange way of kissing by awkwardly pressing her lips against his own, and then tentatively slipping her tongue between his lips. He moaned and placed his hands back on her bottom, and squeezed again, pulling her in more roughly as their tongues intertwined. He was evidentially not a naturally gentle lover, but this excited Meda even more. His hands met her hair, which was in twists and gently pulled her head back, he admired the beautiful contours of her face and playfully mumbled, "Meda, Meda, Meda." He chuckled before he swooped in for another kiss. Meda could feel her cunt grow wet from sheer desire for him, a desire that practically made her body ache, intermingling with the ache she felt for her homeland, her mother, the life she left. She ran her hands through his straight golden hair, as his own fingers explored her own twisted kinky locks. A small gust of air swept in through the window and snuffed out one of the flames of a lamp. Gerulf pulled away from her, said something to himself and then running his fingers through his hair, he walked towards his chest, and opened it. Meda stood their breathless and curious as to what he was doing. He pulled out two tunics and threw one towards Meda which she caught. She felt puzzled, what were the man's intentions? Did they now differ from her own? He then turned his back towards her whilst she watched as he removed his toga, and placed it within the second chest. With his back turned Meda drunk in the sheer beauty of his body, which was nearly as pale as the moonlight, and glimpsed the arched rise of his cock. But she also saw scars upon his back and legs, enflaming her curiosity as he placed a simple blue tunic on. Meda deduced that the man was changing his clothes from those he would wear during the day, to those he would wear in the night and was giving her his spare tunic as he expected her to do the same. Gerulf turned, catching her wide-eyed gaze of his body; he walked up towards her, his lips tipping into a lazy smile. He tugged from her grip the tunic he had thrown her and placed it upon the bed. He then pulled the tunic she was wearing up over her head without any resistance on her part, so she was standing nude before him. He placed his pale hands upon her dark breasts, smoothing over them and then strummed the thick ebony nipples with his thumbs back and forth until the nubs were stiff peaks. He groaned throatily, enthralled by his own actions. Meda moaned in encouragement, and arched her back. He spoke to her in a low sweet voice. She did not need to understand his language to understand his meaning. He desired her, his eyes drunk in the faint light within the room and illuminated back pure undiluted lust. Squeezing her breasts possessively Gerulf pulled her against him and kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. He lowered his head and kissed her neck, focusing on the spot under her jaw. She whimpered from sheer pleasure as her clitoris throbbed, urging for more. Meda ran her fingers through his hair, trying to capture the sensation that eluded her like the sleek strands of his thick blond locks. With his cock pressed against her thigh, Meda traced her fingers across the thin cloth that veiled it. One hand left her breast and he mirrored her actions, his large fingers brushing her naked mons teasingly, skimming above her cunt-lips. Meda looked upon his face and traced her fingers along Gerulf's jaw and then his lips. Her fingers lingered particularly upon his lips, he smiled, exhaling from strained patience and gently bit the tip of her finger mischievously. She grinned back, and teasingly lifted the hem of his tunic with her fingers. She placed her fingers lightly upon the tip of his cock, feeling dizzy from her own boldness as she felt it's wet bulbous tip. Gerulf inhaled sharply and playfully mirrored her actions, his fingers dipping from her mons to the wet lips of her cunt, guided by the moistness. Gerulf rubbed, back and forth, spreading her moistness. Meda closed her eyes relishing the sensation as he caressed the bud of her clit. She tugged at his cock, rubbing the bead of pre-cum across the shaft. His length was hard, and yet moved like fine silk upon her palm. Gerulf began to kiss her again, so hungrily he bruised her lips. His tongue danced against her own, as his fingers danced against her cunt, pulling Meda into a sensation of pleasure so compelling it threatened to overwhelm her. She tugged his cock more firmly, increasing her strokes. They moaned and murmured, their senses like a musky smoke of incense, intermingling and rising. He fucked her palm, his strong muscular thighs tensing and relaxing as his pale cock pumped in and out of the small fist of her dusky hand. He looked upon her and with one final tug he groaned animalistically; she could feel his cock squirt its hot cream upon her hand. He closed his eyes and moaned as his cock stilled and softened in her grasp, and yet he kept rubbing her clit, more insistently, until she too felt her cunt tighten and then finally became overwhelmed with an orgasmic wave. She cried out his name, "Gerulf!" Awash with sensations that made her whole body tremble, her legs trembled and her body pulsed with life. When everything was still, and she could catch her breath she looked up at him. He was gazing down upon her with emotions she could not quite interpret. He kissed her forehead tenderly and smiled at her. He then held her hand and led her to the bowl of water at the other side of the room. Taking a scoop with the wooden spoon he then helped her wash her hands outside the small window. Afterwards, he affectionately helped her into the oversized tunic he had given her for sleep. He blew out all the lamps except one, which he then picked up and placed on a stand next to the bed. He patted the bed. Meda laid upon it tentatively, her heart still racing even as the lamp dimmed. He climbed onto the bed, and laid next to her, his chest against her back. As they lay side by side, he blew out the lit lamp so that only a thin stream of moonlight coated the room with the faintest glimmer. Never before had she known such sensuous pleasures. Her nipples and cunt were still tingling from his touch. She wondered what he was feeling, and if he felt the same way. Gerulf's arm was wrapped around her waist, and the flat of his large palm was pressed against Meda's belly. Meda wriggled a little against him as she found the bed extremely uncomfortable and dared not to move for fear of falling off. It had clearly not been designed for more than one person. Still for the first time in many days Meda felt like a normal human being. The confusion, the fear and the anger were not clouding her as much. For that night at least, in the arms of another, she would sleep. Her desire to escape weakened, for the moment at least. -------------------- Gerulf lay awake, aware of Meda's curvy body pressed against his own hardness, in every sense of the word. He was completely aroused and excited by his seductive, exotic companion, and yet, it was a folly to follow his natural instinct for she was very vulnerable. More so, he did not know how she would feel once she knew of the life he had engineered for her in the arena. However, he was sure that her situation as a fighter would be a happier one than she would have faced in Venus Kisses. What slave would not feel relief that their days would be occupied with sport, that their greatest danger would be from creatures so amusing, as in the case of hippos and ostriches that the gods surely created them for comedy? Meda would be well-fed, treated better than most slaves, and more importantly, would be in close proximity to him whilst he worked as a gladiator trainer in Manius's gladiator school. Gerulf closed his eyes, feeling more confident that the arrangement was the best for Meda. But if Manius realises how I feel for her, I wonder...unfortunately he was enveloped within the realm of sleep before he could complete his thought. Had he done so he might have recalled that Manius was a possessive man and the man who would ultimately decide Meda's fate in the arena.