Date: Mon, 22 Mar 2010 11:34:53 -0700
From: ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com
Subject: Gladiator: Chapter 1, The Passing of the Night

Hey guys! Some of you might have read my Secret Admirer story in the
Beginnings section, some of you maybe not. Anyway, this is a new story that
I'm writing while still continuing the other one. If you've read my stuff,
you know the drill: any similarities to real people or places are
coincidental and there is graphic sexual content, so minors beware! Thanks
and happy reading!

Gladiator: Chapter 1, The Passing of the Night

	Bum bum-badum bum-bum, bum bum-badum bum-bum. The echo of the
ceremonial drums vibrated through the arena, piercing the silence like the
heartbeat of Jupiter himself. It matched the quickening pulse in my chest,
tingling along my arms and legs in a prickling rush. The crowd was tense,
its breath held as the pounding of the drums rose to a daring crescendo. I
could almost taste the tangy, bitter smell of sweat from the spectators as
the noonday sun shone down on the sand of the inner arena below--Apollo was
joyous this day.

	Suddenly, the drumbeats stopped. The iron-cast gates to the
gladiatorial holding area were cranked open, a rusty stuttered groan
causing everyone to lean forward involuntarily. I stood in the back corner
of the imperial booth, a shaded box so close to the central grounds of the
arena we could nearly fall upon the bloodshed below. My dominus (master),
Darius Lysander II, was a favored senator of Emperor Trajan and had the
honor of sitting two seats to the Emperor's right. I was merely a slave of
the Lysander family, but undoubtedly his wife's most treasured servant. Her
name was Aella, and she was powerful in her own right, at times moreso than
her husband.

	Aella lifted her right hand slightly, and gestured me to the side
of her seat. I softly moved to her side and dropped to my knees with my
head dutifully bowed. I felt grateful that she had taken me to her liking
so quickly, and her good graces had often protected me from the brutal
realities of the Roman hierarchy. Her strong, often tempestuous voice was
now barely a whisper.

	"Stay here a moment, young Calix." This was the name she had given
me on my eleventh birthday, which was now six years past. It meant `most
beautiful' and that beauty had not waned now that I was seventeen years of
age: blonde locks, blue eyes, and a lightly tanned medium build excited the
attentions of many, both male and female. Aella's finger tapped my hand and
as I raised my head, she pointed to the arena. "I wish for you to see a man
who may yet move gods with his strength. Look! There he is!"

	I looked up tentatively, but I could barely contain my excitement.
Such opportunities were rarely afforded to one of my status. I remained on
my knees, peering down at the group of men walking out from the gladiators'
quarters, clouds of dust kicked up in their wake. There were more than
twenty large men, all clad in various types of armor, a myriad of dangerous
weapons glinting in the sun. But it was the last man to tread into the
arena that caught my breath.

	"Do you see him?"

	"Yes Domina...he is...I don't know..."

	"It is hard to describe such men in simple terms. Such forms are
destined for the highest tiers of this world. That down there, if not in
name but in spirit, is a king of men." Aella turned to her husband.
"Darius, is that the same gladiator from the last games?"

	Her husband looked at her and smiled, his eyes alight with both
anticipation and admiration for his wife's watchful eye. "Yes, my
love. They call him Phoenix in honor of the crimson tide he spills in
battle."

	I was spellbound as I looked upon his darkly tanned skin, swathed
in the scars of countless battles. Upon his wide chest was a metal
breastplate which heaved up and down with every breath he took. The muscles
of his arms strained against the skin, a sheen of sweat outlining their
perfection. His leather loincloth moved softly over the large mound beneath
it as he paced to the center of the arena, tautly muscled legs carrying him
with a grace I had never witnessed. It was both natural and strange, like
the large cats brought to some arenas for more elaborate spectacles.
Underlying his grace was something else that I recognized quickly because I
shared it daily: pain. Whether from loss or loneliness or physical injury,
this man's dreams were hunted by demons. His pain was as sharp as the
arrows of Apollo as his gaze froze upon the imperial podium, drawing a
small gasp from Aella and nervous fidgeting from those around us. For but a
moment our eyes met, and his gaze seemed to soften as his head tilted a
fraction of a span to the side. Then he donned his helmet and stood ready.

	"He was a soldier captured from the Emperor's most recent campaign,
you know. His Eminence thought it demeaning to commit such prowess to the
arena, but an example must be made of his enemies I suppose. Of course, he
was supposed to be nothing but a memory by now, but this man...this
Phoenix...has captured the hearts of the people. Even the greatest servants
of the republic must bow to that power, no matter the consequence..." Her
voice trailed off as a loud horn blew three times--the games were to
begin. The crowd erupted into cheers as the battles commenced. The roar of
the people was near-deafening as the sharp klang of weapons colliding drew
ever restless heart into a frenzy.

	I glanced frantically through the clouds of dust for a vision of
the favored gladiator, but could see nothing at first. Flashes of light on
metal and grunts of pain, men falling to the ground with geysers of blood
spurting from their severed skin...it was a collage of violence as I
searched for the man known only as the Phoenix. Then a muscular form leaped
through the dust and ran towards the booth, a sword gripped in one hand and
a shield in the other. Two others followed behind, swinging their weapons
at him yet unable to land a blow. I had never seen death so instantly
delivered until the Phoenix stopped, jumped into some reverse twist
bringing him face-to-face with those who followed him, then sliced his
sword through one man's neck before removing the legs of the other. Unable
to bear more, I closed my eyes to the carnage.


* * * * * *

	Upon opening my eyes, I found I could not speak...could not move. I
was immobilized by the dark green eyes that held me in their grasp. His
tongue darted across his full, cracking lips as his gaze pulled from me and
found Aella once again. I was sitting at her side in the cooled, sprawling
courtyard of the Lysander household. The evening air was warm, the spicy
scent of food drifting from the table next to me. I held a large plate of
fruit in my hands, trying to avert my curious stare.

	There, not five feet in front of me, was the Phoenix...the ultimate
victor of today's exciting battle and a growing hero in the eyes of the
public. His muscular body, stripped of all but his loincloth, gleamed in
the golden light of the torches. The angles of his body seemed to ripple
and move even when he stood still with wrists shackled.

	Aella was curled sinuously upon a cushioned bench, her sheer robes
draped seductively over her body. Her smile was dangerous as she reached a
slender hand to the plate I held and picked a grape. Rising slowly, she
walked up to the gladiator and pushed the grape into his mouth, rubbing her
fingers lightly across his dry lips. Darius and some of the other senators
had attended a small party at the Emperor's estate, and this had given
Aella a chance to indulge her desire to have a small party of her own...
with only one other participant. Summoning the victor of the games earlier
that day, she planned to stroke her ego with his presence...among other
things. Turning to me, she smiled conspiratorially.

	"Calix, clean this man and then show him to my quarters.
Afterwards, you may help yourself to the remnants of my dinner, if you feel
so inclined." She stopped mid-stride on her way to her room, and turned.
"Oh, and keep watch to make sure my husband does not return early. Wouldn't
want to complicate things, now would we?" She laughed softly, sighed, and
continued on out of sight.

	I placed the plate of fruit on the table, shoved a handful of
grapes in my mouth, and moved nervously over to the Phoenix. His eyes were
still following the direction of Aella's rooms with an expression I
couldn't place. He was about half a head taller than me, and dauntingly
strong. I was not sure whether to touch him or speak to him or motion
him. I cleared my throat tentatively. He turned and looked at me. Staring
at me for a long moment, he smiled softly and held out his shackled
hands. His voice was a deep whisper, soft yet rough at the same time.

	"Shall we?"

	I looked down as a red flush crept up my neck. I cleared my throat
again and spoke. "Um...yes. If you'll just follow me, I'll show you to the
bathing room."

	"I hope that's not all you're showing me..." His voice brushed
shivers up my spine as I grabbed his hand and led him to the west wing. His
fingers were callused and rough, but very warm against my own. His thumb
drew circles on my palm, igniting nerves in my body I had never felt
before. I cleared my throat and let go of his hand, ushering him to the
bathing area. Steam rose from the square pool in the floor and drifted out
of an opening in the ceiling. I dropped a few more coals in the water with
some iron tongs, and turned back to the gladiator.

	"Uh...I need to...I need to undress you." I walked over to him, and
hesitantly untied the leather bindings on his loincloth. I looked up and
discovered a grin accenting his square jaw, his eyes glittering with...
pleasure? Mischief? I was trying to convince myself it was in anticipation
of my domina's loins, but another part of me...I shook my head, and hooked
my fingers into the top of the leather cloth. I teased it down slowly,
passing it over the v-shaped line that ran from the top of his hips into
the sweaty curls of hair that now crested as I pulled it down more...and
then, all of a sudden, the long, thick shaft of his cock flipped up and
smacked me in the chin.

	I stumbled back onto my hands, blinking in surprise. His cock was
pointing at me as if in mockery, the head gleaming with some clear fluid.
Even from a distance, his crotch gave off a smell of salt like brine from
the sea. I looked up at his face and found that he was shaking with silent
laughter. His rough voice tickled the inside of my stomach.

	"Forgive me. The gods have endowed you with a beauty beyond
words--I felt it fitting to pay you the compliment my lips could not
deliver."

	I cleared my throat again, heat burning from within my cheeks.
"Uh...thank you. Your compliment is...I...I must prepare you for my
Domina."

	He took two steps forward, standing a breath's reach away. "So
soon? There is much more I would like to say without the words to express
them..." His shackled hands raised, a callused finger drawing a line down
my jaw. I was captivated, my cock tenting the soft, light fabric of my
loin-garment. He glanced down, and smiled. "Ah, you find pleasure in my
touch? Come...bathe me, if you wish."

	He walked past me and stepped into the steaming water. As he sat
down, the water coming to his chest, he sighed long and deep. I cleared my
throat, and undressed quickly. My pulsing member was so hard as to nearly
be painful as I climbed into the pool and grabbed a cloth and moved towards
him. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, but I knew better than to
consider such a thing. Coming next to him, I nervously raised the cloth and
touched it against the hard surface of his chest. He did not move. Slowly,
I began to rub the wet, warm cloth against his skin, wiping away smudges of
sweat and grime. I softly brought it up his neck, rubbing around his chin
and around the line of his jaw. Re-wetting the cloth, I squeezed water over
his head, watching streaks of hot water course down his short hair and over
his closed eyes and nose. I wiped his face with the cloth, rubbing it
gently along his cracked lips and then over the stubble of his chin and jaw
again.

	Suddenly, a tight warm grip wrapped around my cock beneath the
water's surface. It massaged along the length of it, which was slightly
longer than a grown man's hand. I gasped softly and melted, my arms
suddenly weak as I struggled to finish washing him. His eyes opened,
gleaming with lust as he leaned forward and caught my lips with his
own. Feverishly warm and wet, his mouth sucked on my own while his hot
tongue licked against my lips. His voice was like both velvet and sandpaper
as he talked heatedly against my mouth.

	"It is not the Domina's loins I crave, boy. Your mouth...by the
gods, you taste so good..." He continued to suck and lick at my lips as his
hand stroked my throbbing cock underwater. "Take my cock in your hand..."

	I instinctively grasped his huge, pulsing member in my hand,
feeling the soft yet tight skin of it beneath my fingers. I mimicked his
movements, stroking and massaging it with my nervous fingers. His hips
began to move against my tightening grip as he groaned into my mouth, his
hot breath soft against the inside of my mouth. I felt something building
within me...some tingling, aching sensation coursing from my cock and
branching out into every region of my body. It pulsed through me now like
waves beating against the shore of the sea, a storm of sensations that
expanded into every part of my body while my hips moved against the rhythm
of his hand of their own will, ripples dancing upon the water as we thrust
into each others' hands.

	Then, at the exact same moment, I cried out against his mouth while
a long, breathless moan escaped his lips. My body shuddered endlessly as I
dropped the cloth and held onto his shoulder for fear my life might slip in
such ecstacy. His muscles jerked spasmodically as he began to breathe
again, his forehead pressed against mine. His voice cracked as he looked up
into my eyes and smiled.

	"If my life were to end upon the passing of this night, it would be
a death happily embraced for my heart has found its eternal sun."

	I tried to speak, but could only stare into his gleaming eyes,
passion bright within them. My blood was a thunderous river in my ears,
deafening as I almost lost sight in a moment of dizziness. Was this the
torrid voice of Venus settling upon me? Was this...love?

	Before the words could dare escape my tingling lips, a familiar
male voice echoed from the entrance of the palace, shattering the moment
and strangling my breath.

	"Aella, my love! I'm home! I'll only be a short while--the stink of
wine is upon me, and I need to wash it off. Aella?" The voice of Darius
approached closer, and if I did not remove both myself and the Phoenix from
my master's sight, not just one but three lives would end on the passing of
the night.