Posted by Phillip Marlowe on October 09, 1999 at 07:13:46:
A condemned woman chooses the arena, and gets her first taste of combat.
Gladiators, stabbing, 1mv, 3fv.
The First Time
By
Phillip Marlowe
Marteus, the Praetor of Rome, looked at the young woman in front of him. "Such a petite girl," he thought,
"quite lovely." Her hair was a light blond that fell in ringlets to her waist. Pale blue eyes looked out of
childlike features. It was hard to see her body. She was wearing a prison toga and chains. He thought them
excessive, but she was, after all, a murderer. The evidence was clear.
"Adriel of Mediolanum, your claims of rape are not credible, in that by your own admission you are a
prostitute. You are guilty of murdering Arkevius of Rome during a robbery. You are sentenced to death.
Take the prisoner away."
Adriel knew that she had been raped, if the praetor had only seen her face the night she was bought in. She
was glad she had killed the pig, but she knew the death sentence meant she would be crucified. Her
stomach sickened at the thought of hanging on a cross for days until her lungs ruptured.
"Praetor!" she shouted, "I am a citizen, and I wish to appeal my death sentence."
"I'm afraid there is no appeal."
"I can volunteer for the Games." Adriel replied.
Marteus looked at her incredulously. So small, she wouldn't last long in the arena. He knew that from
personal experience. But she was correct on the law; she had the right.
He shrugged. "One death is as good as the other I suppose," he responded. "Take her to the Romanium
Ludi on the outskirts of the city." He signed some papers and gave them to the guards who took her away.
"This works out perfectly, " he thought to himself.
Adriel was relieved. She had killed men and women before, more than once, it was easy. Now if she could
do it 10 times, she would get her freedom.
She was bought to the ludi, for what little training she would receive. She spent a day learning some basic
moves with a gladius from a man who hit her with a strap every time she displeased him. As she came out
for her second day, the master called her to him.
"Adriel, over here."
She walked to him quickly. She didn't want to feel the strap again.
"Your fighting at the Coliseum tomorrow," he told her.
"I just got here! I hardly know how to hold the sword!" she protested.
The master cut her off. "You know enough to give a good show before you're killed." He turned and went
looking for the rest of tomorrow's combatants.
The words rang in her ears. The reality of her choice became apparent to her. Killing a man from behind or
knifing a slut in a bar fight was different than fighting a trained gladiator in the arena. At least a death in the
arena would be less agonizing than hanging on the cross. She watched the master as he went to other men
and women. Some of them had arrived only today. Others were seasoned warriors. She hoped she would
get paired against one of the recent arrivals; that would give her a better chance.
She couldn't sleep that night. Visions of her death in the arena kept her awake. She tried to remember who
the master had selected, how long they had been here, how they handled the sword. Every time she tried to
envision killing one of them, her visions changed, and she would visualize them killing her. She could hear
moaning and crying in the other cells. Some with fear, some with pleasure. She had seen several people
pair off after the evening meal. She had thought about seducing a young man she had seen. He was very
young, but she thought him very beautiful. He had blonde hair that fell to his shoulders outlining a boys
face. He was bone thin, and she couldn't really tell what his body looked like through his toga. But her
anxiety got the best of her, and she retired alone. Now she wished that the young man was here. She
fantasized that he was a virgin, and she was to be his first fuck. She imagined him making love to her as her
hand went to her sex. It took a while, but she finally came, moaning loudly as the pleasure washed over her
body. She caressed herself, running her hands up and down her torso, gently pinching her nipples before
returning her attention to her sex. The bliss helped her relax enough to get to sleep, even though she
thought that it might have been her last orgasm.
The day's contestants were awakened early, fed the usual mush, and taken to the baths to clean off months
of grime from jail cells and the school. They were given their attire for the arena. Everything seemed so
large on Adriel's small frame. She put on a loincloth, a wide leather belt, and leather covering for her
sword arm that tied tightly across her chest, pressing into her breasts. They gave her her tunic back, but
that would come off before she would get into the arena. She was loaded into a cart with the rest of the
days contestants for the journey to the coliseum. Adriel looked over the others, many of them new, just like
her. They all feared that this would be their last day on earth, even the seasoned warriors. Adriel felt the
fear in her belly, and she could see it on most of the faces in the cart. They all knew that most of them
would die today.
The gladiators were marched into the bowels of the coliseum, to an anteroom just off of the entrance to the
arena. The arena master directed them to sit on a rough wooden bench. He called out two names, and two
men rose. They removed their tunics and were given swords and bucklers. Adriel watched the men as they
walked to the passageway. One was an older, dark man who had the look of a seasoned fighter, and the
scars to prove it. The other was the boy she had thought about the night before, blonde hair pulled into a
ponytail. She had been right; he was so thin you could see his ribs across his hairless chest. She wished she
had seduced him when she had the chance. They could have shared their final fuck, maybe even his first.
The crowd roared as they walked into the arena. There was an opening in the anteroom where the waiting
gladiators could watch the competitions. In the distance, Adriel she could see the two men as they circled
each other, looking for an opening.
"I'll bet on the dark one."
Adriel looked at the woman at her side. It was unusual for another gladiator to offer friendship to another;
after all, you may have to kill that person. She looked back at the two men in the arena. The girl was right.
The dark one was getting the upper hand.
"Your right."
"I've seen him before. He'll make short work of this boy."
"You seem calm," Adriel asked, "How do you stay so calm."
"You new?"
"Yes."
"Just accept the fact that this is where you're eventually going to die and how you'll be killed, and
concentrate on killing your opponent. Don't think about dying. Everyone who I met who was worried about
dying was killed their first time."
That was cold comfort to Adriel. All she thought about was dying. She was surprised that the girl told her
so sardonically. She stared blankly at her.
"Don't look so surprised. I've killed plenty of people in the arena, and almost been killed myself. It
becomes easy to face death when you don't worry about it. Besides," she smiled broadly, "you'll be
surprised how much you'll be aroused when you kill your opponent. In fact, I could swear that I've seen
my victims come as I've killed them. Can't be sure until I get killed though." She giggled as she turned her
attention back to the fight in the arena.
Suddenly the crowd roared. Adriel turned back just in time to see the dark man pull his blade from the body
of the young man. He screamed and dropped his sword and buckler, blood spewing from his gut as he fell
back, hands to his wound. He rolled about in the sand, fighting against the pain. The crowd screamed for
the dark haired man to finish him. The consul gave the signal, and his death was assured. The dark man
went to him and put his foot on his chest. The boy grabbed the gladiator's leg. The dark man pressed his
sword against the boy's throat. A quick shove and it was over. Blood splattered as the sword sliced his
throat open; his body quickly went limp.
"You see," the girl said, "he didn't suffer much. It's best that you don't make your victims suffer. It angers
the others and makes them forget their fear."
Adriel envisioned herself being killed, just like that man. The victor marched down the passageway,
drenched with sweat and splattered with his opponent's blood. Attendants went to the arena and took the
bloody corpse by the feet, dragging it by the opening for all to see. Adriel watched with great anxiety,
knowing that the next loser might be her.
The girl went on. "He didn't die well though. Those who don't die well are stabbed in the throat; like
killing a goat. Warriors are finished with a sword through the heart. That's how I want to die."
The girl ignored the body being dragged by the opening. She nudged Adriel. "I hope you don't have to
fight that one." She nodded toward a woman at the front of the room speaking with the arena master. Adriel
had noticed her at the school. She seemed to have special privileges. She had private quarters, and ate the
food that the trainers ate. She hadn't been on the cart with the rest of them that morning. "Her name is
Elora, and she's Praetor Marteus's mistress," she whispered, "They give her matches against the new
gladiators. Don't get me wrong; she's good. She killed a lot of men and women to get to where she is
today. She fucks him the night before a match and the night after. The tale is that she gets so turned on by
killing; she almost fucks the praetor to death after she kills someone. He arranges her matches so that she
gets easy kills and doesn't take too many risks." That explained to Adriel why she hadn't seen her on the
cart. "She even gets a private waiting room down here. Wouldn't want to have to mix with the rabble."
"Jira!" the arena master shouted. The girl got up and turned to Adriel.
"My turn now."
"Good luck," spoke Adriel, unsure of what to say to someone who might be killed shortly.
"Shai!" the master shouted another name.
She looked at Adriel and smiled, almost affectionately.
"I like you."
Adriel smiled back, appreciative of the friendly gesture.
"If we meet," she giggled, "I'll kill you quick." She pulled her tunic over her head. She was a little plump,
surprising for a gladiator, Adriel thought. She had on the same attire as Adriel. Her breasts were more full
though, and the strap pressed deeply into them. She wore nipple rings, and an unintelligible tattoo on one
breast. She had long brown hair that she wore to her shoulders, with bangs that almost covered her eyes.
She shook her head to get the hair out of her eyes and adjusted her chest strap. "It keeps my tits from
bouncing too much," she explained, looking back at Adriel, still smiling. Adriel eyes drifted to the girl's
belly. A deep scar ran a crooked course from her navel toward her ribs. Adriel was surprised that someone
could survive such a wound.
"Like it?" the girl almost laughed. "That's what happens when you don't concentrate on killing. I gutted the
woman who did this to me. I almost died myself."
"Jira and Shai … hurry up!" the arena master shouted.
"Hang on to this for me," Jira asked as she threw the tunic to Adriel. "I'll be back for it before long." She
winked as she turned away.
Jira hurried to the doorway. The other girl was there, a barbarian woman. Adriel thought she was new too,
but couldn't be sure. Many of the barbarians were prisoners of war who knew how to fight. Coal black hair
and eyes, very thin. She wore a different sleeve. Hers had a metal plate at the shoulder. She had straps over
her shoulders and around her chest that were connected to a ring between her breasts, with another strap to
her belt. The chest strap pushed her breasts up, so that they stood proudly from her chest. The master gave
Jira a buckler and a sword. Shai was given a fishnet and a trident. The girls marched into the arena knowing
one of them would be dead in a few minutes.
Adriel moved to the opening to watch the contest. Both girls saluted the emperor and turned to face each
other.
Jira sized up her opponent. The barbarians were tough, devious fighters, not above stabbing their opponents
in the back. They were generally given tridents and nets because the masters wanted them dead quickly,
and the lack of armor and shield made them good candidates for a short life in the arena. Jira felt lucky to
meet this woman. Not only didn't she have a shield, but she was new to the arena. Jira felt her chances to
be good.
The trumpets sounded and the girls went into their battle stance. Shai held the head of her weapon far in
front of her, keeping Jira at bay. Every time Jira tried to move in, the barbarian would shove the tines of the
trident into her face. Jira quickly moved away from her adversary's weapon, using her buckler to block her
blows. Shai moved forward and thrust hard into Jira's shield, pushing her back.
Jira felt the sand squish under her feet as she stepped into the blood slick left by the first pair. Her feet slid
as she fell backwards. She quickly rolled out of the way as Shai thrust the trident into the soil where Jira
had just been. Jira backed off. "I just got lucky," she thought. The crowd roared as she fell, and quieted just
as quickly as she recovered. Shai cursed under her breath. She had almost had this Roman bitch. She thrust
again with the trident toward the sword. Jira parried the thrust as Shai threw her net toward the buckler.
Jira saw the net drape across her shield arm, entangling her buckler. She slashed at it with her sword but it
was too late. Shai pulled hard on the net and jerked the buckler from Jira's hand, thrusting with the trident.
Jira scrambled back and watched helplessly as her buckler flew to the ground.
Jira got into position quickly. Shai had put herself between her and the buckler. She would have to use her
sword to parry the Trident, a risky proposition. Jira decided to be the aggressor, and moved toward her
opponent. Shai threw the net again. Jira stepped back until it hit the ground before her and charged quickly
forward, sword at the ready. She got inside the head of the trident and thrust toward Shai's chest. Shai
swung her weapon as she dove away from the sword. The shaft of the trident caught Jira behind the ear.
She saw a bright flash as she sprawled forward, stunned from the blow.
Jira found herself face down, her sword no longer in her hand. It took her a second to realize where she
was. She began to panic. "Where's my sword?" she thought through the haze, "where's the barbarian?" She
saw the sword just in front of her. She got to her knees and reached for it when she felt the sharp tines of
the trident penetrate the small of her back. The first agony shot through her like fire. Jira shouted as she
tried to pull away from the pain in her back, her face contorted in anguish. Her efforts were in vain as Shai
forced the barbed points in.
Shai pressed the trident in her victim, holding her in place as Jira tried to free herself. Shai hated the
Romans. Agonizing this woman, even if she was a slave such as she was a pleasure. She jerked the weapon
from Jira's body. Jira fell forward, crying out again as the barbed tines tore through her back. She
desperately tried to crawl to her sword as Shai moved in for the kill.
Shai quickly moved around her and kicked the sword away. "I'm dead," Jira thought. She looked up at
Shai, standing over her with the trident. She could see the tines covered with her blood. Shai stepped
around her; Jira watched, wondering where the next stab wound would be. Shai kicked her in the ribs, and
she flipped on her back. Her breasts heaved as she struggled to breathe, fighting through the pain to taste air
for the last time. She looked up for a final glimpse of the sun, the clouds, and the blue of the sky. She didn't
watch as Shai moved over her. It didn't matter. She was going to be killed.
Shai thrust the trident into her belly, the middle time just above her navel. Jira doubled up around the
trident as a new sensation of pain overwhelmed her as the tines ripped into her. She grabbed the shaft of the
weapon as Shai pushed it in farther. Jira groaned again, as the taste of blood from her belly now filled her
mouth.
Jira released the weapon and laid back, her strength gone, awaiting her death. Shai looked her in the eyes;
she enjoyed the agony that she was putting this woman through. She leaned on the trident, watching Jira
grimace as blood flowed from her mouth, mixing with her tears and staining the sand beneath her. Shai
jerked the trident free. It was time to kill this Roman whore.
The barbs tore out of Jira's belly, lifting her from the sand. She began to writhe in her final agony, and in
her final pleasure as her clitoris began to throb. She smiled slightly; what she had thought was true. She
moaned as the orgasm began to build, enjoying her last earthly pleasure. Her nipples, already stiff from the
excitement of combat, thickened around her nipple rings. Sweat poured from her skin, mixing with the
bloody mess that her belly had become.
Shai looked to the counsol, holding her bloody trident over her head. The crowd called for death, and the
consul agreed. Shai looked into Jira's eyes again as she placed the tines of the trident against her chest,
pricking her skin; giving her a moment to think about what was coming.
"I'll see you in hell," mouthed Jira, still smiling and spitting blood as she cursed her killer.
Shai returned the smile and leaned on the trident. Shai could hear Jira's breastbone splitting as the center
tine of the trident went inside her, the others piercing her breasts before breaking through her ribs. Shai
leaned on her weapon, penetrating deep inside her. Jira threw her head back and arched into the spikes as
they shattered her ribs and sliced her lungs. She opened her mouth wide, vainly fighting to get another taste
of the sweet air into her before she died. The peak of the orgasm that hit her as the trident did its lethal
work tempered the agony of her death. Shai put her foot on Jira's rib cage, and jerked the weapon from her
chest, sending a final shock of pain through her. Jira heaved a loud sigh and went limp, her last breath a
gurgle through the blood that filled her chest. Shai raised her bloody trident over her head in victory as the
attendants grabbed Jira by her arms, and dragged her to be stripped of her outfit, and thrown naked into a
mass grave.
Adriel watched intently as this woman she barely knew died in agony before her eyes. Jira's head rolled
toward her as she was drug from the arena. She could see her dead eyes staring at her. She looked back at
Shai, celebrating her victory, waving the bloody trident over her head. She got up and angrily pulled her
tunic over her head as she walked toward the arena master.
"Where do you think your going?" he asked.
"I'm going to kill that bitch!"
"I've got other plans for you. Go sit down!" he shouted.
Adriel grabbed a sword from the table and put it to his throat. The guards moved to grab her.
"Touch me and I'll take his head right here!"
The guards pulled back. They knew that killing a gladiator would only spoil the show, and besides, the
arena master wasn't worth risking death.
Adriel poked him with the sword. "I want the barbarian woman."
"All right," he stuttered, "but you'll have to fight twice today."
"Good!" She pulled the sword back from the man's throat. Grabbing a buckler, she stepped into the hot
sun. It felt good on her bare skin, and the air was fresh and pure, unlike the stale air of the antechamber.
Shai looked at her with derision. "This little whore thinks she can best me," she thought. Her childlike
features, her small breasts made Shai think that the Romans had sent a child to kill her. She went over and
picked up her net.
Adriel examined her as she moved toward her. Her fear now replaced by rage. Now she would concentrate
on killing this barbarian, and not her own death. They were both covered with sweat as they approached the
center of the arena: Shai from the exertion of combat, and Adriel from the stifling heat of the anteroom and
the anticipation of the clash. Adriel had noticed the erect nipples of the gladiatrixes during their match. She
wasn't surprised to find her own nipples stiff. She could also feel her sex moisten and throb gently. She
admitted to herself that without fear, the thought of killing this woman was a very exciting. Shai's body
glistened in the sun. "She's very beautiful," she thought. She imagined killing her with the same excitement
that she felt when she seduced a new lover. Shai's black hair was drenched in sweat; she shoved it back
from her face. Her almond shaped eyes were wide with anticipation of the fight to come.
Adriel pushed her blond ringlets from her face and went into her combat stance. Shai did the same, again
keeping Adriel at bay with the trident. Adriel could see the points coated in Jira's blood. Adriel circled
away as Shai threw the net toward her. It fell harmlessly to the ground as Shai thrust toward her. Adriel
blocked the blow with her buckler and slashed toward her opponents weapon arm. The sword split the
leather cover and drew blood. Shai jerked back and reset herself. The leather had done its job. The wound
was painful, but minor. She threw the net again, this time low. It caught Adriel on her ankle, and Shai
wasted no time in jerking her off of her feet as she again moved in for the kill.
Adriel scrambled up, using her buckler to block the trident. Shai pulled back as Adriel thrust at the
barbarian's belly. She barely missed, cursing as she scrambled to her feet. Shai charged again, and Adriel
again blocked the head of her weapon; as she did Shai tossed the net over her sword arm and jerked it
pulling the sword from Adriel's hand.
Adriel backed off, weaponless. She tried to move toward the sword, but Shai blocked her path. She kept the
buckler in front of her and kept moving, looking for an opening to get to the sword. Shai was sure that she
would get her second kill today. Soon her weapon would be in this woman's chest, the sooner the better, as
she was starting to tire. She was thirsty from the hot sun and the trident seemed to weigh a ton. It became
harder to keep it in position and keep up with the girl.
Adriel kept moving. She could tell that the trident blows were becoming weaker as the fight drug on. The
crowd jeered. Adriel didn't care. She was just trying to survive. Shai was becoming frustrated. She threw
her net aside, and lifted the trident over her head as though she were going to throw it. She charged Adriel,
screaming at the top of her lungs. She thrust down at Adriel, who ducked and caught the shaft of the trident,
pulling the barbarian past her. Shai and the trident went flying. She slammed to the arena floor, briefly
stunned, she turned back to see Adriel picking up her sword. She grabbed her trident and prepared to fight
again. Adriel charged and ducked a clumsy thrust from the barbarian. Shai had pulled herself off balance
and she continued forward after her thrust, impaling herself as Adriel's sword entered her abdomen.
The trident dropped as Shai grabbed Adriel's arm as it held the sword that was in her belly. The crowd was
delighted to see bloody steel sticking from the barbarian's back. Shai's face was distorted in agony as she
threw her head back and tried to pull back and pull the sword from her belly. Adriel grabbed the leather
straps that crisscrossed her chest and held her as she twisted the sword, opening the wound. Blood poured
from Shai's wound as Adriel finally pulled the weapon from her. The sword was covered with blood, as
was her hand. Shai dropped to the ground, curled up in a fetal position, both hands grasping her wound. A
bloody puddle was forming in the sand in front of her.
Adriel didn't wait for the signal from the crowd. She walked to the wounded woman and pushed her on her
back with her foot. Shai grunted loudly, squinting her eyes shut, hoping that the agony would end soon.
Adriel placed the point of the sword against the barbarian's left breast, just inside the chest strap, the blade
turned sideways to get between the ribs, and thrust. The sword cut easily through the breast and nicked a rib
as it went through a gap between them, and into her heart. Shai grunted as the blade split her breast. She
tried to scream as the sword went deeper, and split her heart in half. Her scream was silent though; her
agony was too great. She shuddered a few times, and then died quickly. Her hands fell limply as Adriel
pulled her sword free. Adriel gazed at her dead adversary as waves of pleasure flowed through her body.
Jira had been right. It was very exciting to kill another woman. The attendants came and removed the
barbarian from the arena. She would lie naked with Jira for eternity.
The crowd cheered Adriel's victory. She turned to leave the arena. The master stopped her at the gate.