“Gladiator, step to the back of the cell…..you have a visitor,” the old gravelled voice of the guard echoes along the narrow tunnels dug out from the rock beneath the arena. The clang of metal reverberates off the walls as the lock to the cells heavy iron gate opens with one turn and with a bowed head, the guard gestures for his escort to enter the prison cell. “My lady.”
With elegant poise she nods in appreciation and walks slowly but purposefully to stand facing the cells only occupant shackled to the stone wall opposite. Her head angles back slightly to hear the slam of the cell gate as it is closed then locked behind her.
“I shall be at the end of the corridor if you wish any assistance my lady,” comes the offer of comfort to the vulnerability the guard sees in the slight figure before him, “Out of site but close enough to be of service if required."
“Your concern is met with great gratitude,” comes the reply from under the hooded veil, “Now leave us, but I beg you to be so kind as to slide the oil and dagger through the hatch of the cell before you take leave.”
Bending down to open the creaking food hatch at the foot of the cell bars, the guard slides a potted vase of oil and an accompanying dagger on to the cells straw covered floor, then retreats into the darkness and out of reach of the flicker of torch light dancing across the confinement’s walls.
Removing her hood with both hands, Abelia raises her gaze to look into the eyes of the cells captive. The enormity of the gladiatorial arena had hidden the towering stature of the competitor before her and now in such close proximity she has to fight to repress the feeling of fear and anxiety rising in her chest, the realisation of being locked in an underground cell with a man of such raw power now hitting her.
“So it is you who is the reason for my denial to bathe after a day of battle in the searing heat of the arena?” The deep rasping gallic tones of the warriors voice vibrate through Abelia’s body shortening her breath to a hurried gasp. She stands transfixed by the piercing blue eyes fixed upon her through long blonde locks of hair matted by the sand, blood and sweat of battle.
Searching deep into of her training as a lady of a Patrician Roman family Abelia breaks the spell of the gladiators gaze and straightens her back, gathering herself to address him as his superior, a member of Rome’s ruling elite.
“Gallius, Throcian warrior of Gaul. Conqueror of the House of Crassus! You have brought much glory upon yourself on this day in defeating the best warriors of my father’s stable, today holds a rare lesson of humility for a great man such as him. In your honour he offers you his only daughter to bathe the body of the games champion.”
Gallius walks forward as far as the chains shackling his wrists to the wall behind will allow before they restrain him to a sudden halt inches from the beautiful young woman before him. As he stands looking down upon her, naked except for a short wrap of leather hanging from around his waist, the scent of rose petals fills his nostrils and the curves hidden from sight underneath her hooded robe ignite his imagination. He raises his arms away from his sides and opens his palms in a gesture for Abelia to begin her cleansing ritual upon him.
Abelia’s breath shortens and deepens from the proximity of Gallius’s heavily muscled physique and she feels relief in having to walk to the other side of the cell to reclaim the vase of oil and dagger left by the guard, giving her a chance to re-group her senses. She takes the pot of oil by its two handles and walking behind Gallius raises the pot to poor the oil over his broad shoulders, circling him so as to cover his back, arms and chest with the cool, cleansing fluid. As the oil breaks down the dried rough coating of sand and dark blood covering Gallius’s body Abelia uses both hands to guide the flowing oil over the entirety of his torso, her hands looking as if a child's in comparison to the scale of Gallius’s stature.
Patches of the remnants of the days fighting fall away and Abelia happens across patches of firm, smooth skin and she cannot help but wonder as her touch lingers how that skin would feel to such wanting lips as hers, or pressed against her own soft forgiving body.
As she reaches to the floor to taking the dagger in hand Abelia’s gaze fixes upon Gallius’s stare, offered to her as a reminder of the foolishness of using the blade for any purpose, other than the removal of the mixture of oil and dirt now smeared upon him. Starting below the line of his jaw, Abelia begins to glide the sharp dagger over the ridges and deep contours of Gallius’s muscled torso, revealing the clean, smooth skin underneath, tanned by the Roman sun, yet bruised and lacerated in the name of Roman entertainment.
“The Gods will raise a glass to you today Gallius,” she pronounces, "In recognition of your great deeds. It must raise your heart to the heavens to see so many of your enemies slain before your feet.”
“I have no enemies in the arena, we are all brothers,” Gallius grits his teeth so to hide the shake of emotion he holds behind them. “To slay ones brother does not raise your heart to the gods but banishes it into darkness. An honourable death is all I have to offer my brothers as love. I intend to show men like your father such love one day.”
With a look of amusement Abelia lowers to her knees in front of Gallius and begins to cover his legs with oil, once again her hands glide over him.
“Great men like my father do not control but two curved swords as the Throcian gladiator, but thousands of swords forged together to form one piercing blade that even the gods would fear. Does this make the great Gallius of Gaul more fearless than the gods I wonder?”
“One true blade is all I would need,” replies the warrior, “To show your father retribution for the suffering he and his kind force upon others, you do not feel fear with the favour of the gods guiding your sword.”
Looking up into his eyes Abelia, unable to resist the urge aroused by Gallius’s single minded valour allows her hands to wonder above his thighs and under the wrap of leather around his waist. Taking his already firm penis into her hand she widens her grip to account for a girth she did not expect to encounter, then slowly slides her hand up and down his full length.
Her free hand resting on his thigh feels the muscles in Gallius’s leg tense prompting her to take his genitals in hand and stroke them, forcing his breath to deepen. His hands pull hard against his shackles, his arms tensing with the strain in a vain attempt to gain control of the situation and Abelia, but without giving up the feeling growing in his body.
Abelia sees his helplessness and confident of her own safety stands up to face Gallius, still stroking his ever hardening penis in her hand.
“My mother always taught me that there are many great men in the world, but they can all be controlled by the gentle stroke of a woman's hand,” she gloats, “And here we are the great Gallius, slayer of men, helpless in mine.”
The feeling of power coursing through Abelia’s veins brings with it a wave of arousal. Every strain of Gallius’s muscles to break free of his chains increasing the sensitivity of her breasts and nipples now rubbing against the silk of her robe with every breath, every stroke of his now throbbing penis being felt inside her moist vagina as if it was sliding inside her.
Not wanting the feeling to end but unable to endure the humiliation being given out to him, Gallius backs away toward the wall slowly, Abelia follows him still stroking his penis. Recognising his chance and hoping the slack now in his chains will be enough, Gallius throws out an arm to grab Abelia but falls inches short. Startled, Abelia jumps back swiftly but in seeing Gallius’s grasp fail she returns to take his penis in hand, and carry on with the task of making the great Gallius cum at her mercy and against his will.
Her own arousal now taking effect, Abelia begins to stroke her breasts, using her free hand through the fine silk of her robe. Pushing down between her thighs and sliding her fingers inside her wet vagina, she lets out a short sigh as they brush across her clitoris. Her eyes close to concentrate on the feeling growing between her legs, now spreading down her thighs and up into her belly. Distracted she fails to take notice of Gallius’s further struggles against his chains.
Unperturbed and refusing to accept defeat, Gallius has continued to pound against his metal shackles, pulling the securing bolts in the wall out of their beds by the smallest amount with every effort. Desperately trying not to cum and with the sound of Abelia becoming ever more aroused in his ears, Gallius gives one last effort to free himself, wrapping the chains of one shackle around his wrist for extra leverage. With a huge cloud of dust and the sound of falling rubble the shackle of one arm finally gives way and Gallius’s hand grabs the long dark hair of Abelia behind her head as she freezes in panic, her eyes wide with terror.
The flowing blood red cloak of the guard appears out out of the darkness as he responds swiftly to Abelia’s voice. Forcing his rattling keys into the lock he looks up toward his prisoner. With Abelia in-hand Gallius returns the guards gaze with a look of pure steel leaving no doubt in the guard's mind that this is not a fight he would have a chance to win. Reluctantly, but guided by thoughts of self-preservation, he disappears with a nod to once again take up his post in the dark corridor.
“It was very generous of the great man that is your father to offer your services to the conqueror of his house my lady,” Gallius whispers gently into Abelia’s ear, his breath hot on her neck, “But for the great man he is, he seems not to be concerned enough for the welfare of his only daughter to supply her the safety of his personal guard? Could it be perhaps that it is not your father who sent you to me, but the desires of your own lust?”
“Let go of me I command you! or I shall have you flogged!” Abelia defiantly replies through gritted teeth.
“Down here my lady no one is under your command,” says Gallius’s his voice still calm and controlled, “Down here it is you who is commanded, and I believe that is the desire you’re secretly harbouring isn't it my lady. This is what you came for? To have the burden of your status lifted from your shoulders, to be free? Free to enjoy pleasure as those below you, as those who you so envy enjoy them.”
Looking deep into his eyes and with a heaving chest, Abelia raises herself as near as she can to face of Gallius as he towers over her.
"I believe you have me at a disadvantage Throcean," she whispers back to him in the same controlled tones as he has addressed her, "it seems you know the desires of my lust better than I know them myself. I wonder, are you the one to show me how a woman is desired, by a man who is stirred by honour not profit and driven by passion not gold? By a man who has no possession in life but the burning desire in his heart?"
Gallius, uses the power of his chiselled body to free the shackles of his remaining chained hand from the wall. Holding her back against the bars of the cell Gallius pulls at Abelia’s clothing, tearing it off her otherwise naked body and throwing the torn material to the floor.
The ample curves of her soft breasts and round hips brings a shudder of arousal through him and his free hand and lips wonder over her skin. Abelia pulls Gallius's head toward her as he strongly kisses her breasts, taking her nipples into his mouth as he slides his wide fingers into her vagina. Spinning her body around, Gallius bends Abelia over in front of him and she braces herself against the cell bars.
Spreading her legs wide he slides his penis into her vagina slowly, using his immense bodyweight to push himself deep inside her. Her moans and cries of pleasure spur Gallius’s thrusts to become stronger and faster. His penis filling her vagina he controls her body with a firm grip on her shoulder and wraps his free arm around her to squeeze and stroke her soft breasts, then feeling the orgasm rising in him he reaches down to her clitoris sliding his hand over her belly, determined to make her cum first while he takes her strongly against the cell bars.
Abelia pushes herself back onto Gallius, inviting him deeper as she chases the orgasm she can now feel growing inside her. With Gallius’s penis filling her vagina and every thrust coming at her faster and stronger than the last, the added stimulation of his hand on her clitoris is too much and she loses control of her body, coming to a shuddering climax and shouting out from the heights of her pleasure.
Gallius gently lowers Abelia’s spent body to the floor. He lifts her mouth up to his penis and with her hand she brings him to a climax. Gallius cums with Abelia’s lips covering his penis and she tastes him in her mouth, a taste she’ll want for again many times in the months and years of reminisce to come.
Spent himself, Gallius takes a seat against the wall of his cell taking in deep, long breaths, his urges now fulfilled.
“Guard!” he shouts, “The lady is finished with me”
